august catch-all.

[reneger]

Who: jason todd & misc
What: wolfing around, tdm prompts, misc other things.
When: august - september..ish.
Where: milton, mostly.

Content Warnings: tdm warnings may apply, will add on others as needed!

Comments

i'll run alone tonight ( birch bark tea ; open )

[reneger]

( being from gotham, jason would have a harder time listing the shit he has seen than the shit he hasn't. this wouldn't even be the first time he's vaguely experienced physical ages being fucked with, timelines being broken, and all the fun crap that comes along with that.

the difference here is that, while his memories haven't been fucked with, his body sure has. where there had before been a 6'0" brick shithouse of a man now stands a small, 4'6", not even one hundred pounds on him boy. he's covered in clothes that are significantly too big on him, several articles bundled up in his arms as he tries to make his way back through milton to find somewhere to - lay low for a bit, or find damian's hiding place because - that kid's about as small as he is, right? maybe a little bigger. it's not jason's fault he's tiny as hell. )

( he opens his mouth, teeth chattering, and grumbles, )

I'm gonna kill Tim.

( because it's not his fault but jason will find a way to blame him. somehow. maybe. )

[guidemyway]

[Ruby was just passing by when she heard the grumble, and the chattering of teeth. She pokes her head around the corner and sees the boy moving through the town. She blinks and she recognizes some of the clothes but she hadn't seen this place mess with anyone's ages yet to put her finger on the idea that this was the same hulking guy she had come across a couple months ago.

Instead she gives a little grin.]

Seriously, What did Tim do this time? I hope he didn't ruin another party.

[reneger]

( he's not expecting anyone to actually be listening to his grumbling, but the moment she pokes her head around and grins at him, jason's - shutting up. because he probably should not have said that out loud. tim bullying should be left to his inside voice, and occasionally damian. )

He didn't do anything.

( tim's a common enough name; jason hasn't meant anyone else here with it, but he can still avoid actually mentioning anything that'd id tim. just in case. the weird, significantly higher-pitched voice he hears when he speaks still throws him off. arms tighten around the bundle of clothing he's carrying, and his mouth twists into a scowl. )

Maybe I'm just gonna hit him 'cause his face is stupid.

( a very mature response from a very mature adult. he's hit tim for less. for now? jason's just - going to keep on walking. )

[guidemyway]

[Yeesh. Okay there's a little bit of an attitude from this kid, but at least he was being honest about it?]

Well look- I know Tim's not exactly the most popular guy around here, and his face is pretty dumb.

But he's done some good around here too. Do you mind like- maybe just sticking to some mild injuries and bruises but let him live?

[Look. If it was Tim she was thinking of, he probably deserved that much.

Don't mind her as she just going to follow along for now.]

I'd consider it a super big favor if you did!

welp

[ployboy]

[Tim doesn't hear the mumbling, though he strongly doubts there would have been a difference in what he does when his eyes register Child out in the snow.

Another fraction of a second later and those eyes widen- and not from fear.] --! ... [Tim closes his mouth, having called out nothing, because if there's one thing that's been beaten into his head it's that names matter. Especially for Robin.

His breathing hitches, unceremoniously pulling forward a few coughs, but Tim is already one arm out of his sportcoat when his legs begin to draw him closer to the kid. To Jason. Jason Peter Todd. Robin.

This is Robin. His Robin.

He remembers his voice eventually, but by then Tim is already burdening the boy by shoving (his) better-fitting, better-closing, warmer outerwear at him. It's a tangle of clothes snagging on themselves and getting passed through arms, and Tim can hear himself faintly through the flush of embarrassment that comes hot on the heels of just throwing your own jacket at a Gotham boy with literally no explanation beforehand.

Tim thinks, well, maybe he'll get stabbed. But what he's saying is,] --take that, I know you can handle the jackets just fine on your own but it's still a bit of a walk before we reach the town. It's a trade. Okay? It's a trade, the coat will fit you better and I'll- I'll take the furs. I'll give them right back! I promise! It's just. It.

[Quick, think of something--]

It's cold.

[reneger]

( not just any gotham boy, but jason todd, newly extremely small and not happy about it. if he was in a better state of mind, he might have been focused on how fucked it is that he remembers being this small, but there's a huge chunk of missing time between being tiny and suddenly being almost six foot tall with shoulders broad enough to rival batman's. luckily for them both, he's a little too cold to get stuck on the whole identity crisis part of. . . this.

and tim drake is a face he easily recognizes. one he doesn't feel like killing, or punching in, or - any other acts of needless violence that's not going to get him anywhere. it's his stupid punchable face that saves him from having fingers digging into his eye sockets when he throws the coat at jason. )

I know it's cold. Do you know how much snow is in my boots right now?

( a lot, because no amount of tightening the laces is going to make his boots fit him. but he is, you know, shoving the armful of furs at tim so he can push arms into tim's coat that is still too big but fits significantly better than his own crap. and unlike what one would generally expect from jason, he doesn't give the furs a second look once they leave his arms; he's not worried about tim stealing from him or anything.

it's after his arms are in, fingers curled in the fabric of the sleeves to keep them from freezing, that jason - presses his lips together, and looks up to tim. ) 'm still me, Timbers. You don't have to baby me.

[ployboy]

[Which is frankly fine because as far as identity crisis goes, Tim's got him beat. What, too soon-?]

Yeah, I know. [Or at least so says his tone while Tim is stuck processing not only the magic spell that's hit Jason (or Robin-?) but also apparently that Jason (Red Hood) has full awareness of his situation and that he's calling him Timmers.

Louis would say the runaway thinking that's master of Tim's psyche is due to an overconsumption of bad, bland, instant coffee. Joke's on him: Tim prefers his neverending anxious jitters to be married to bad, bland, instant tea. Or, y'know, his literal subconscious: the Riddler.] But it's fine. I can still just carry this back. It's no big deal.

[Lovely that he's stopped himself from spewing that it's fine a second time.

(Jason's feet must be killing him. Or maybe Tim's just a huge wuss. But he remembers the chill of first showing up in loafers and praying against frostbite when he finally gained the courage to peel them off.)

He doesn't mean anything by it- he doesn't mean anything mean, he means-- but Tim does slow his stride. He covers it by hefting the pelts higher up his arms, like he's rearranging for a better grip or something.] I have some... girls' pants.

[Wow is that an awkward sentence to hear yourself say aloud. Holy shit, man. As if he wasn't already flushed pink-]

No. I don't want to hear it. It's... they're good for layering, okay? And there's not that many chicks here right now who could use 'em. They'll fit. I'll get them to you.

[---]

Your shoe size is still larger than mine, though. You're on your own there, Ro-

Uh. You're on your own.

[pacificator]

[ Why are there so many children around– ]

Get in line.

[ She still hasn't forgiven Tim for breaking into her home while she was a little under the weather that one time a shadow in the shape of herself did its level best to drain her of the will to live. So sue her. ]

[reneger]

( on one hand, he hasn't figured out how exactly he wants to do the whole, we're brothers but also tim's from back when jason was in his... angry at everything phase and therefore, hadn't really known him outside of the murder attempts, considering tim was brought in after jason keeled over thing with everyone.

on the other, )

I've got dibs, y'know. Dibs called way before your dibs.

( don't actually fuck up tim, wynonna, that'd put them at odds. )

[pacificator]

Yeah, well, better make good on your dibs before the next time he decides to break into my house.

[ The kid looks kind of familiar, actually. Has she somehow seen him around and just forgotten? ]

Or anyone's house. He should just knock it off with the break-ins in general, actually.

[thefifthchild]

[There is something deeply fundamentally wrong with this body. Scars that burn deep and yet show no real damage. He lacks all of his existing scars, blemishes. His internal organs have been replaced again - something he shouldn't know, but he does. Or perhaps more accurately, have reverted to their base level. His eyes don't work as well, there is pain across every inch of his body and yet he's never been stronger.

And there's something inside of him that's missing.

He's also not used to being this big.

So a towering presence of black and grey stands in a trench coat modification on the Batsuit, scrapping the cape entirely and he's... looking for someone. Someone that he finds clad in stolen colours.

Great. So this goes both ways.]

And to think... [His voice is a lot deeper, near unrecognizable.] ...That you called me the runt.

[reneger]

( he's walking through the snow, chilled down to his bones because hell if it isn't fucking cold out here. and jason, as he is, lacks years of growth and muscle to help keep himself warm. he's not as bad as he had been, once, but this is still - less than ideal.

just like the sudden appearance of the cowl is. it's the cowl jason recognizes first, and the cowl that has his eyes widening just a fraction, a moment of something akin to fear crossing his expression before he realizes: it's batman but it's not bruce, and batman doesn't scare him one bit.

his mouth twists into a scowl instead, brows furrowed. the voice is almost unrecognizable, but not quite, and the shit that comes out of his mouth makes it clear who it is. )

Shut it, pipsqueak. I don't want to hear jack from you.

( don't make him come up there. )

[thefifthchild]

I'm twice your size. I could punt you into the sun.

[The words don't really fit the looming figure he finds himself in, a body that is both familiar and alien.]

You're freezing. [He jerks his head to the right.] There's some cabins that way.

go ahead and cry ( sansa ; closed )

[reneger]

( they've talked.

jason's had his arms out for sansa, he's offered her a helping hand because he knew she needed it. she needs someone to look out for her, even if he also recognizes she's damn strong on her own and would figure it out, she doesn't have to here and - he hated falling to his knees beside her after the forest talker had spoken to her. hated how much of her story she didn't need to tell for him to get it.

it's not the first, nor will it be the last, time he's heard stories of a similar vein. and he hates that too; how often some asshole thinks it's fine to take advantage of others, for whatever the hell reason they can think of to justify it. felipe thought he held all the power in his hands, because he could, legally, get away with anything. the girls in gotham have enough horror stories up their sleeves to fuck up anyone.

none of it matters currently. what matters is sansa, which is why jason remembered where she's been staying, went back to where he'd been keeping his puppy safe and a back of miscellaneous nonsense he'd needed, and brought them along with him to the cabin she's been calling home. with the pup (bitewing) curled up in an arm, idly chewing on the sleeve of his coat, he raises a hand and raps knuckles against the door.

waits for an answer, because even if no simple lock is enough to keep jason out, he can occasionally manage to use his manners. )

[clothed]

[ sansa is no stranger to living with company. she'd grown up in winterfell, her family's ancestral castle, and it bustled with a household of a hundred-strong servants alone. she had a wealth of family, from her siblings to her father's kin, and the cadet branches of her house; on name days the keep would swell in number to almost twice as many people. when winter is finally come, sansa had been taught that the keep could handle twice that if needed.

which is to say that living with the lady randvi had been in equal turns both familiar and strange. strange, because there's only two of them, each minding their own. and familiar, too, to have someone who wakes in early hours as she does, who requires sparsity similar as she does. they have similar needs that sansa doesn't feel so out of place compared to the community centre.

it's comforting. she needs some comforting.

the hour is early in the day, finding sansa preparing to break fast for the household, when a knock comes to the door. lady had recently come in, drying herself by the back door where sansa had laid out a very large carpet for her to drip melted snow onto. the direwolf doesn't alarm, only canting her head to the side in curiosity; a friend, then. hers? lady randvi's?

sansa doesn't call out, instead wipes her hands on a kitchen cloth as the kettle settles in the tabletop stove. she peers out as she cracks the door open and makes a small but pleased gasp, draws the door wider. ]

Ser Red, [ she greets him. the sun is just breaking behind him, and there's a small pup cradled in one arm. ] You— oh, you have a baby.

[ ????????? baby? ]

—I'm so sorry, please come inside. [ she all but pulls him and his little charge inside. ]

[reneger]

( ???????? baby?

confusion is written plain as day on his face as sansa yanks him inside. despite his bulk and how obvious it is that jason could refuse to move while she yanks, he offers no resistance and lets her tug him along until he's firmly inside with the door shut behind him. no need to let in extra cold air when it's already freezing out. and once he's inside, he realizes.

baby is the equivalent of puppy in this case. because he doesn't have the former, even if he is lugging around one of the latter. )

They had a few of 'em they were rehoming earlier, so I took in - Bitewing here. ( it's not the best name he could have given a dog, and the joke won't hit for anyone who isn't from his side of the multiverse, but. it's better than dog or boy, which he had been calling the puppy before he'd started gnawing on jason and everything else he keeps around. kneeling close to the ground, jason lets 'bitewing' down and onto the floor, where he gives a soft little bark and starts sniffing at the floor around jason's boots. )

Figured if I let him walk, he'd track a shitton of snow inside. ( and he is a puppy, so - ) He's not gonna make a mess, long as there aren't any leather jackets around to chew up or boots left lying around. He's got expensive tastes.

half of me has disappeared ( bigby ; closed )

[reneger]

( bruce shows up.

because of course he does. he appears out in the middle of goddamn nowhere in a suit like that's normal for him to be out and about in, and with his presence comes a shitton of other problems jason has been working hard to avoid up until now. the fact he's, technically, been kicked out of the family again. the remnants of the memory of bruce telling him no more red hood as jason fought to try and remain conscious through getting his head bashed in a few times.

the whole thing about jason not being legally alive and having not been for the last several years. how he's part of the family, but also not; a ghost, a remnant of times long since past. he's their brother, but only when it's convenient for them. bruce's son, when having that arrow notched and pointed straight toward jason's heart proves to be a weapon worth wielding.

who the hell knows what jason's supposed to be now. bruce's own words put his timepoint as a little before jason's, before jason fucked up so bad bruce felt the need to beat the shit out of him while he tried to save his companions. but damian knows. damian knows what jason did. tim has a good idea of it. and it won't be long before jason finds some other thread to yank at until it snaps and pisses bruce off, again.

he's angry. upset. doesn't have any viable place to direct it to so he's here instead, sitting on bigby's porch with his back hunched over and a bottle of moonshine gripped in hand. he's not drunk. wishes he didn't have the foresight to realize how stupid letting himself indulge that much would be because jason would like to be. but milton isn't a place meant for letting go, and so jason's stuck sipping idly at the disgusting shit he's managed to scrounge up, hoping buzzed but not too tipsy'll have to do for now.

while, against his better judgment, he waits for bigby. )

[bigbaddy]

[ It's not really that rare to just stumble across Jason around town. Sometimes Bigby feels like the other stalks him for the hell of it is on random days, trying to catch Bigby at just the right time to harass him. It's surprising, the sort of things you can get used to when it happens to you often enough.

Jason showing up at his place is more rare. Especially like this. It's one thing for him to show up there when he knows it's the one place he can find Bigby, but this time Bigby isn't home. He's walking home from a hunt, two dead rabbits held by the ears in one of his hands as he's walking up to the house and only then spots Jason sitting there. Almost like he's waiting for him.

At first he figures it's just the other trying some new tactic, but..

.. wait, is that booze?

Bigby frowns with slight confusion as he makes his way up to his own home. ]

Tell me that isn't March's shit you're drinking. It's really not that good.

[reneger]

( it's not his fault he'd learned how to follow people when he was young. or it is a little bit, and maybe it's more his fault that he carries that talent into his adulthood, and even more that he subjects bigby to it, but - listen, everyone has to have hobbies. one of jason's is being annoying.

eyes look down to the bottle, before refocusing on bigby himself with an easy lift of his shoulders. )

Guy asked me to teach him how to fight properly, I told him I'd do it for liquor. An' it ain't all that bad.

( jason didn't need booze, didn't even really want it all that bad, but he's not doing shit for free. not for march. yet. he raises the bottle to his mouth for a drink, then pulls himself up to his feet. jason's steady on his feet, so he couldn't have had all that much. )

My - . . . someone who complicates shit showed up.

( or maybe he has, considering he's Talking. )

[knightbynight]

[He needs to talk to Jason. Unfortunately, he needs to talk to Jason about Tim, which is a potential new set of landmines, in about four directions at once - and maybe more than that.

(Definitely more than that, if he includes himself and his own mental, physical, or emotional health in this -- and he doesn't).

That means he needs to look for Jason, but is pretty conflicted about whether or not he wants to actually find him.

He also knows he can't easily find Jason, for many reasons like a lack of a routine, schedule, or even location. Which leaves him basically just making himself very, very visible and audible and being outside however long it takes. So Jason can let himself be stumbled upon, or get curious, bored or pissed enough to approach him.

This is normal.

(It's not)]

[reneger]

( it's intentional.

jason doesn't like people, in general. he also hates being able to be found. there are times when he hates it less: like when he's on good terms with the people who'd be looking for him. but now's not one of those times. especially not with bruce around. especially not after bruce had effectively yanked him down to the floor and held him until he gave in. it'd be a real shame if that happened again.

at the very least, he recognizes bruce standing around for what it is: he's waiting for someone to come out of hiding and find him. jason hasn't seen damian or tim since before bruce appeared; partially because he's avoiding them, partially because he's just... avoiding most people. if he were in a shittier mood, he'd just slink back into the dark corners and pretend he never saw bruce.

but bruce hasn't fucked up yet, and jason's willing to give him the opportunity to.

there's a juvenile wolf/husky... something mix trotting alongside jason, eating mouthfuls of snow while managing to keep from howling at everything in sight - for the moment. jason approaches from behind one of the more run-down cabins, hands shoved into his pockets and head tipped to the side. allowing bruce to take a few steps in his direction if it is jason he's looking for, but keeping his distance in case it isn't.

he can head back into the forested area, if bruce is searching for another of his flock. )

[knightbynight]

[Any expression or body language that would give away sincere feeling (besides anger, or fear transmuted to anger) is pretty damn subtle and/or rare from Bruce.

He's still relieved enough now that his shoulders drop a touch, and his expression lightens just a fraction. This isn't going to go well, he doesn't think - though he's determined to (at least) not handle it the way he normally would. Fuck up different, at least.

He inclines his head at Jason and makes his way over toward him. He stops out of reach, but takes a second to look down at the puppy before he glances back up. It's endearing and it suits Jason.]

Do you have a few minutes?

[Then crouches down, side to the puppy, hand turned palm up but fairly accessible. He is not as shitty with animals as humans.]

- snow.

[reneger]

( showing up at bigby's place has become a bit of a habit of his. not a great one; jason doesn't know all that much about the guy, aside from the obvious. they've been. . . talking, more often than jason has talked to his siblings. or his newly appeared father. or most other people. maybe it's because he feels like they've got some things in common: they're both monsters, trying their best to be anything but what their stories have foretold. maybe it's bigby's attitude, his no-nonsense, take-no-shit way of handling people that jason appreciates.

and there's the whole wolf thing. the thing jason's still adjusting to, but that bigby's very comfortable with already.

regardless, he's - here once again. exhausted down to his bones from all the bullshit going on, tired enough if he had been damn near anyone else he would have passed out already. jason stops in front of the front door and reaches into one of his jacket pockets for a wire to start picking the lock so he can let himself in. knocking isn't his style, but at least he's being loud about his break-in attempts: he's not purposefully hiding his presence, he's just not knocking and announcing himself like a normal person either. )

[powersuited]

[ Snow's been popping over to Bigby's place than not recently — more and more, it just feels like it makes sense for her to be here, with him and Connor, rather than staying in her own house alone. It's likely that her increased presence has something to do with the aftermath of Bigby being shot, and the way she'd fretted over his bedside until he'd finally woken up, but if anyone else has picked up on the two of them spending a lot more time in each other's company, they haven't outwardly remarked on it.

Beyond that, she's finding reassurance from both of the wolves who are already used to living life this way, and have been able to help her understand her own changing instincts, to say nothing of her ability to shift into something that walks on all fours.

So she's at the house again now, since it feels a little safer for them to be grouped up in numbers, but the aforementioned wolf abilities are what make it easier for her to pick up on the sound of something clicking at the front door. It might take longer for her to realize what the sound pertains to, and before she can think twice about what she's doing, she strides across the foyer to answer it, yanking the door open in an effort to surprise whoever's on the other side. ]

Hey! [ She's trying to catch them off-guard, to sound more intimidating than she actually feels — only after she has the door open, Snow's attempt at projecting falters. ] Oh — wait, do I know you?

[reneger]

( she does catch him off guard.

maybe it's the exhaustion setting in, perhaps it's the not expecting bigby to be home and while jason remembers he'd mentioned his kid who also lives here, he'd been under the assumption that they'd both be out.

which, clearly they are, given this is neither bigby nor his kid. jason's immediate reaction of reaching for his knife is, thankfully, cut off by the sound of her voice. it's not one he recognizes either, but this isn't his first time rampaging around bigby's house, and despite being in the wrong shape for it, his nose flares at the memory of a scent that wasn't bigby or connor.

both hands raise, palm up and at shoulder height in surrender: he's not out to hurt her, nor is he trying to scare her, so a show of empty palms feels like the right way of going about - this. )

You're the girl. ( obviously. the closed-lipped grin that spreads across his face is - sheepish. ) Sorry, uh - no, you don't know me. I'm the guy who bled all over the couch 'bout five months ago.