( openish ) hear the whispers in the street

[reneger]

Who: jason todd & various
What: may - june catch all
When: may~june
Where: places.

Content Warnings: violence, blood, injury, mild gore

( ooc: open & closed starters posted below; feel free to hit me up at crowbars if you want to plot something! or just throw something down and i'll run with it. )

Comments

[homeostatic]

( Sheet-mauling complete, Bones casts a despairing look around their cabin...shack. )

Yeah, ( he says, absently, seizing on a sagging wooden chair where it's huddled up near the fireplace grate, and smashing it against the stone. ) Heard of any good therapists in town?

( Don't let his, y'know, furniture destruction put a pause on their banter. He finds what he's after when the chair back cracks, tossing a couple spindles into the bundle of cloth. )

[reneger]

Unfortunately, everyone I know here's batshit as is.

( it's funny because, you know, batshit. less funny because out of all the people it could have nabbed from jason's side, canada skipped right over the mostly well-adjusted ones and went straight for the three less well-adjusted robins. he's pretty sure damian rates somewhere above him and tim, which is just - sad. he's met others, but not enough to get that good of a gauge on them. it's a work in progress.

much like how fucked he is. )

I could point you to a few clever kids, but I don't think you'd like what they'd start spouting out their mouths.

[homeostatic]

Mm, think I'll pass on that then, but thanks.

( Taking therapeutic advice from a kid? Terrifying.

Seated once more, Bones reaches out to start properly assessing his arm. What he wouldn't give for a working tricorder right now, or even an ancient X-Ray machine. The Franklin's medical tools, old as they were, would at least be of some use.

He's as careful as he can be, palpating with deft, chilly fingers in a slow pathway up his arm, as focused as if he were in surgery. )

[reneger]

( sometimes, when a man gets very pissed off, shoots a guy on live tv, then gets thrown out of an invisible craft floating above gotham onto a very hard rooftop where their adoptive father figure is lurking in the shadows - the land very, very hard on their arm, and fracture their olecranon. jason, at least, is a decent patient once he's been caught by someone who he isn't inclined to run from, and this guy hasn't given him any reason to take off for the hills yet. he's sitting up and letting mccoy fuck with his arm, giving a very monotone ow when he prods at tender areas - less because he's bitching, more because they don't have equipment, and figuring out what the hell's wrong with it could probably use more than just digging his fingers into muscle and bone. )

If you ask me real nice, I'll play therapist.

( with a playful grin, and maybe he's trying a little too hard to get mccoy to fuck off on his own, because, )

Spent enough time in asylums to pick up a few tips and tricks.