who: Jason Todd
what: TD prompt and settling into his new life.
when: Early February
where: The Kent House
warnings: The nightmare thread has illusions of drowning, verbal abuse, victim blaming and claustrophobia...and being buried alive, kind of. More will come clearly.
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He sipped at his juice- acai berry sludge, or something very similar. Man, the price one paid for one little assassin stab. He grimaced a bit. He peers over at Jason's workstation, curious. "Not like I wouldn't eat it, but...Is that hygienic?"
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"Yes it is, but humor me. Why do you ask?" He quuestion as he poured the egg mixture into the pan, sitting the bowl and shook the pan a little to keep it from sticking.
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"I heard most of the bacteria is on the shells. Feces and all that." Tim sipped slowly at his juice. At least it was cold. He moved around the counter to peer at Jason's work. Maybe pick up how to make a hot breakfast.
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"...and while that is a fact, probably, I doubt anyone's gotten sick from it. And most eggs are heavily washed before we ever buy them. Its how I learned it, its how I do it." He made a quick pull of the pain flipping the eggs, a trick he learned from Alfred in his youth.
"You really cant cook can you?"
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"I figured I'd get take out, some vitamin boosters, and hope for the best." It had been nice having Alfred's meals in the penthouse, but it wasn't like he could stay there. "When did you learn how to cook?"
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He wasn't sure if this Tim had the same life as his Tim, but he's sure their dead. Tragedy always gets the birds.
The coffee was set aside as he lifted started to stir the eggs to scrabble them. "I learned to cook from my mom, kind of. I watched her and learned what i could, I had to. She spent so much time checked out that someone had to keep us fed. Willis always expected food when he got home and well... Mom was in no shape." He defended her still, even years later. He didn't want to just use her name. Catherine didn't get downgraded just because she wasn't his birth mother. He had always loved her, always would.
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"I think she never really knew what to do with me. The cooking lesson helped." He'd never held anything against Dana- especially after his dad died and left her in shock. But he couldn't say they were close. Janet Drake was a hazy figure in his mind, impressed upon things more than feelings. The scent of her perfume. The small sculptures she'd brought back from trips abroad. The ghostly imprint of her manicured fingers at his shoulder.
He nodded at the story, figuring Jason wouldn't welcome sympathy. "It's kind of like having an everyday way to remember her by. You're a lot better than I ever got to be, though."
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"I think it's a good way to help." He admitted with a shrug. "It helped with me and Alfred." He admitted, turning down the burner.
Tim was right, Jason's pride would not allow sympathy. He was tired of being pitied. "Actually it's pretty depressing, but, it's a useful skill so I pretend it doesn't bother me." He admitted as he flipped his eggs and then took a drink of coffee. "I was like eight, Timbo, knowing mom was passed out in the bathroom and that Willis would snap if he came in and found me on a chair making whatever I could so he wouldn't scream at her. It was my job to protect her, even if it meant doing the stuff Willis screamed at me not to do." He explained without sounding upset. It was easier for him to talk about it since meeting Ed. Ed got him to open up more about his youth.
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He wasn't surprised Bruce had been absentee a lot- he was likely still dealing with the blowback from Dick leaving, assuming the chain of events was the same in their world. He hadn't gone too far into detail in Jason's life prior to becoming Robin, but 'Willis' was a name that he'd found logged in the Bat Computer.
"...I'd offer to get you a beer but I think you already got that taken care of." He inclined his head towards Jason's 'coffee'. Not that it was healthy, but it seemed like that kind of conversation.
"So how do you feel about cooking now? Just practical?"
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"I'm not going Irish this morning, I have work tonight and a meeting later today." He corrected his brother and head the cup over in case he wanted to double check. Though the look on his eye was more of a challenge than not. "Its practical, more so when my worlds Tim, and Barbie tend to watch cameras and I prefer to not have everyone know where I am staying so, cooking helps." He shrugged his shoulders. "and its easier with Damian's diet."