riverviewlogs | i can't remember the good old days.

Entry tags:

i can't remember the good old days.

who: Jaybirb and YOU!
what: Intro log; catch-all for October.
when: Right meow.
where: Around Quarantine - see prompts for specifics.
warnings: Will update as needed!

are all the good times getting gone? (working; ranting and raving)

[Jason would be a lot more surprised about turning up in Quarantine if this weren't more or less his exact brand of luck. It figures that after watching his team of Outlaws get sucked into a portal to who knows where, Jason would find himself in a fairly similar position.

Artemis and Bizarro aren't here, though. He's checked the network. Saw at least one other name he recognized, too, and decided against sending a message. What good would it do?

He throws himself into his work instead, this ridiculous job he's been assigned as a bouncer for some factory-turned-club called Ranting and Raving, and that's a Z-grade pun if he's ever heard one - and believe him, he's heard plenty. He pulls as many shifts as he can stand, because it gives him something to do that isn't driving himself crazy(er) over what happened in Gotham just before he turned up here, and the cacophony of beats is loud enough to drown out whatever thoughts do manage to spring up. It's not ideal employment, but there's enough inherent threat assessment to hold Jason's interest; he knows which telltale signs to look for that cry concealed weapons, intoxication, trouble.

The fact that he looks like he's already done a few rounds with a rowdy crowd doesn't hurt his image, either - deep bruising over his right eye, a split lip, small stitches over his eyebrow and cheekbone. Jason's had enough practice to know how to hold himself to hide the bruised ribs that he refuses to treat properly, because - well. He deserves that pain, doesn't he?]

No sandals, no hats. Look, pal, I don't make the rules here - I just make sure you follow 'em.

they come and go and go and come and go (brooding; community housing, floor 9)

[He'd say he's slept in worse places, but that implies that he actually sleeps, so.

It's not a bad room. There's privacy, but sometimes it feels like the walls are slowly closing in on him, and Jason escapes to the balcony, if it's not already occupied by anyone else on the floor. He can lose track of the excess time here, staring out at the unfamiliar skyline. His expression defaults to a deep frown when he thinks no one is watching him.]

i've got a lot of friends who are stars but some are just black holes (wildcard)

[Want to run into Jason somewhere else? Hit me up at

fibroplastic or journal PM to discuss!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[That whole no hats rule is about the only thing he doesn't like about this club. It's kind of funny, because Roy had never been a real big 'rave' or 'concert' person before he'd come to Riverview and got lost in a few of the mosh pits here, run into Finn, realized that the combination of adrenaline and endorphins from dancing and moshing and losing himself in loud music feels really damn good without being a life-ruining addiction.

He's just coming back from the bar with a bottle of water when he hears a voice saying that about no hats, and he's about to heckle back in the most good-natured way possible (especially considering he's not even wearing a hat) when it occurs to him that he really recognizes that voice. Deeply familiar.

For a moment, he stands dead still, then turns around, brows furrowed, mouth half open. And yep, that's Jason alright. Looking like he's fresh out of a street brawl and yelling at people who are just having some fun - yeah, that's Jaybird. Licking his lips, he lifts a hand, pushes a few strands of red hair back behind his ear to get them out of his face, and forces himself to breathe even though he feels pretty much like he just got shot in the chest.

The past month or two, it's been pretty easy to ignore how much Jason leaving had messed him up, considering all the stuff that's been going on, the exploration missions and attacks on the wall and everything. But the minute he sees Jason again it's like getting slapped in the face with all that pain and loneliness all over again, remembering being the one Jason had called when he needed someone to patch him up in the middle of the night, all the text conversations, all the support, all the time together with Kori and after that, the way they'd parted ways at home. The way Jason's hair had looked under moonlight with his face pale and grinning while he bled everywhere.

Pathetic. But it still hurts. Like a lot. And that takes a couple seconds to shake off before he's making his way over to Jason, grateful that the crowd is clearing as people surge into the main room with the start of the next song. For a moment, he just looks at his former partner, holding his eyes if he can.]

Oh hey Jaybird. I see you're back. So nice of you to call me up and let me know.

[It comes out harsh. Sarcastic. There's no missing the anger and hurt under the tone of his voice. Roy can't be assed to care.]

[Thing is, Jason did consider calling. Texting, at least, but what would he say? I’m sorry. I missed you. I screwed everything up. How long has it been since Jason left Roy, dissolved their partnership and walked away, never once looked back? The longer the silence between them stretched out, the easier it became to tolerate, and the stronger Jason’s belief that Roy was better off without him grew. Each of the dozens of times he’s almost tried to make contact with Roy since his arrival ended in Jason talking himself out of it. Funny how he can leap off the top of a skyscraper without 100 percent certainty of where he’ll land but doing something as mundane as trying to repair his relationship with his best friend scares him into inaction.

So he hadn’t tried to contact Roy, in spite of the ache that’s lived in his heart since the last time they’d spoken. This moon’s a big place, big enough that Jason figured that if he were lucky, their paths would never cross, and Roy would never know he was here. Jason could become the ghost he feels like most of the time since he left Gotham.

Unfortunately for Jason, his luck tends to run from bad to worse to nonexistent, and that’s no clearer than when finds himself face to face with Roy. He meets Roy’s gaze, unflinchingly accepting the fury and pain he hears in his words, because he deserves this, and he knows it.

Maybe I underestimated the time table on him getting over it, he thinks, and finally looks away, scanning what’s left of the crowd for a distraction. He assumes Roy is referring to him being back in the context of Jason leaving him when he left their little heroes-for-hire operation. The idea that Jason has been here before and left doesn’t cross his mind.]

I’ve been a little busy, Roy. Drunk ravers aren’t gonna look after themselves.

[And a distraction quickly presents itself in the form of a young woman who is probably two drinks past what’s sensible climbing on top of one of the tables to show off her decidedly unimpressive dancing skills for her three friends sitting around the table, cheering her on. Jason cups his hands around his mouth and shouts at her to get down, pointing sternly and gesturing toward the floor once he has her attention.]

Edited 2018-10-10 04:09 (UTC)

[In the moment, Roy is furious, and there's no question that he's hurt. Every person who turns their back on him and walks away hurts just a little bit more, and Roy's had a whole life full of people turning their backs, walking away, telling him either directly or indirectly that he's not enough. Not good enough or strong enough or smart enough or fun enough or just plain enough to keep their attention, their loyalty, their friendship. People seem to slide in and out of his life and sometimes trying to hang onto them feels like trying to catch water in his hands. Hopeless, everything slipping through his fingers.

So Jason had left without saying good-bye, had come back without saying hello, and maybe he could deal with that if they hadn't been connecting again, if they hadn't been repairing things. They'd been friends again. Roy had forgiven him, in every way but the stupid sarcastic jokes they'd still made about it. When Jason was hurt and vulnerable and trapped, he'd called Roy, trusted Roy, he'd felt like they were best friends again. Like their friendship mattered. Like he mattered.

Apparently not. And damn, that really hurts. The anger is more a cover than anything else. Something strong to shield the vulnerability of the whole thing.

Jason's flippant joke about drunk ravers doesn't exactly help, when it comes to the anger, though. Roy's mouth tightens slightly as Jason yells at the girl, exhales in a rush, waits until Jason's done yelling at teenagers, his hands clenched into fists. Heart pounding, head spinning a little, he doesn't even bother trying to hide how upset he is, because a flippant comment isn't going to cover this.]

Fine, whatever. You know, I really thought we were starting to get close again. Stupid me, as usual.

[Turning on his heel, he stomps out of the club. Makes it halfway home again, at a dead run, before he changes his mind. It's pathetic, but he can't leave it like that, he wants to know why. What he'd done this time.

Roy's always been a little pathetic. It might as well be his middle name.

So he goes back, and he waits. By the time Jason is done his shift, Roy is sitting on the edge of the curb outside the venue, knees up with his arms around them, chin resting on his forearm, green hoodie pulled up over his hands, hood over his head - nowhere near enough to keep anyone warm on a night like this - staring kind of blankly into the street. Waiting.]

Edited 2018-10-11 04:27 (UTC)

[And here Jason thought he’d been crystal-clear during his exit that he was the one who wasn’t good enough for Roy, not the other way around. I’m never going to be the hero you want me to be. If he knew Roy’s thoughts on the subject - well, he’d be irritated with himself for mucking up but entirely unsurprised.

Roy’s reaction stays with Jason throughout the rest of his shift that night, the words knocking around in his mind like the steel sphere in a pinball game. I really thought we were starting to get close again, and it’s the again that keeps tripping Jason up. What does that mean?

Jason’s still puzzling it over by the time he leaves the club, and while he can’t discern the identity of the figure huddled on the sidewalk with absolute certainty, he knows Roy well enough to guess it’s him.]

If you were planning on jumping me, you might wanna work on your stealth a bit.

[It’s a shitty joke, but shitty jokes are how Jason deals with uncomfortable situations, when he can’t punch his way out - and he’d rather not resort to fisticuffs with Roy right now. Jason’s clearly caused him more than enough pain as it is, though he’s fuzzy on the exact nature of what that cause is.

He won’t get answers by staring at the back of Roy’s hoodie, though. Jason hesitates, contemplates just leaving again, and decides against it. Roy deserves better than that, and Jason’s curious to uncover the missing piece of this puzzle and discover what he’s done to deserve Roy’s anger - and he doesn’t doubt that he does deserve it. He takes a few steps closer, hands stuffed into jacket pockets - closer, but not too close.]

You ever talk to someone and it feels like you’re having two completely different conversations?

[It’s a sideways admission that he’s missing some pretty essential clues as to what the situation between the two of them here is supposed to be, but it’s the best Jason can do at the moment.]

Edited 2018-10-11 19:47 (UTC)

[ How many times has he met and re-met Jason now? Three or four? Loki has lost count. One thing remains the same throughout, he can never stop himself going back to his former best friend to rekindle their old flame, which is genuinely a moronic thing to do because it hurts more and more each time Jay comes back.

At least he said goodbye last time.

So when Loki discovers he's making more comebacks than Take That, naturally he stalks Jason back to the apartments and figures out which one he's in. It's the middle of the day and Loki has already gotten a few weird looks through the windows he's been strolling up, picking his way over the glass until he stands horizontally off the building beside a certain balcony, hands in his coat pockets. Boot-soles glowing green, clearly magical.

He clears his throat as noisily as possible. ]

[Jason’s good at noticing when he’s being followed, he’s been trained for that, but nobody really expects to be followed up the side of a friggin’ building. Apparently
his surveillance field needs to be expanded now, so thanks for that, Loki, it’s noted for next time.

If Jason’s surprised by Loki’s sudden appearance on the balcony, he doesn’t show it - his expression remains flat, unimpressed, his body language closed off as he sits at the back corner of the balcony on the concrete with his arms folded across his chest, blue eyes sharp as he turns his attention on the godling.]

Can I help you?

[He doesn’t sound helpful - he sounds tired.]

I'm running out of patience with you and your amnesiac tendencies.

[ So, Jason doesn't remember him. Doesn't recall sex in the leather goods shop after-hours in the mall, the friendship that bloomed after, the missed opportunities. Well, fuck it.

Hopping onto the balcony proper, he ferrets in his coat pockets for a jangling set of keys and tosses them over. ]

Your stupid fucking bike's parked downstairs, enjoy.

[ And with shoulders haunched he turns to leave, because why not. ]

I think I’d remember if I had amnesia.

[Ha. That’s funny, right? But maybe Jason does have some kind of traumatic brain injury - God knows Bruce wasn’t pulling those punches to his face. Maybe all of this is just some elaborate coma dream after all.

... Nah. Jason wouldn’t be that lucky.

He catches the keys one-handed, composed facade giving way to confusion as he glances from the keys in his hand back to Loki again.]

Hey, hold up!

[He climbs to his feet, moving too quickly and hissing a breath out through his teeth at the resulting pain as his bruised ribs protest the sudden movement. Jaw set, Jason makes his way toward Loki, crossing the balcony in a few quick strides.]

Listen, Oprah, it’s a nice gesture, but I don’t take bikes from strangers unless I’ve boosted ‘em myself. [He holds up the keyring, expression quizzical.] What’s the story here?

[ Gods, he fucking hates that he knows that shitty sense of humour was coming. That hiss of pain draws a glance over a shoulder, not asking about it just yet because knowing Jason he could have done anything to himself, and the demands get a shrug. ]

You did boost it yourself, I told you. It's yours. Or ... it was. I have no need for it so just, I don't know, whiz around on it and put the thing to use again.

[This conversation feels like trying to read a novel in a language he hasn't studied and half of the pages are ripped out of the middle. Sometimes, he hates this place, and this is one of those times. There's obviously a missing piece that he isn't grasping, and Jason, stubbornly independent birdbrain that he is, hates asking for help. He throws up his hands in frustration.]

Who the hell are you?! And why do you have some bike that apparently belongs to me that I don't know anything about?

[Is this a scene from a bad romcom flick? Is this what Jason's life has become? What is life???]

[ jesusshrstatjasn. ]

I'm your best friend, every time. [ He slips in close, faster than a human, and plants a kiss on Jason's cheek before darting around him with a thief's evasive moves to nimbly hop up on the balcony again. Wow, wishes he could take a selfie right now, hair and coattails blowing in the wind ... ] I'm Loki.

[ And his nerves have had enough for the time being; he jumps and twists, landing back on the glass where his boots flare green as they reactivate. He races down the building. ]

[OK WELL. That sure is a thing that just happened to Jason, and he's a little too stunned to move at first, memory calling up that kiss from Artemis - what's it been, days ago? a week? and then she'd disappeared, along with Bizarro, Jason had watched the sky over Gotham while they vanished, and -

- and Jason punches that thoughtspiral back down again, because he is absolutely Not going to think about that. Not now. There's a mystery to solve, and he could use the distraction.

He moves to the railing of the balcony and watches Loki retreat back down the side of the building, but not even Jason is dumb enough to try going after him with no cables on a good day, much less a day when he's managing busted ribs. It's not his favorite method of gathering information, but searching the records online is probably the fastest way to track his new-old friend down. Lucky for Jason, "LOKIOFASGARD" isn't a terribly subtle username. And if it turns out he's messaging the wrong guy? No harm, no foul - he can just pretend he misdialed.

So about an hour and a half after Loki leaves the balcony, there's a text message sent his way. The sender is listed as @j.doe.]

i already have a best friend. he hates me.
guess that makes me 2/2.
i'm not who you think i am.

[Your move, Lokes.]

Edited 2018-10-11 01:55 (UTC)

[ You ready for this, Jay. Are you. ]

Jason Peter Todd, second son of Bruce Wayne AKA :) Batman. Red Hood of the Outlaws. Brother to Dick Grayson AKA Nightwing, Tim Drake AKA Red Robin, and Damian Wayne AKA Robin Why Are You Like This.

You don't remember me but I've known you from four points in your life, this makes the fifth. I gave you a bike last time you were here. You returned it before you left. I have a lock of your hair in a drawer. We both love chili hotdogs, and once we were close to in love.

I'm your friend, whether you like me this time around or not.

[He’s surprised there’s a reply at all, surprised it’s not just some variation of fuck off, and exponentially surprised at the proof Loki provides. The facts about his adopted family aren’t necessarily incorrect, just out of date; Jason has no illusion that he’s in any way a welcome member after what happened with Bruce in Gotham just before he was whisked away to his current location.

That bit about once being close to in love, though - that part sounds incredibly fake to Jason’s shattered self-esteem. Who could ever love a violent fuck-up like Jason Peter Todd?

His hands shake as he types out his reply:]

i don’t know you. i can’t say whether i like you.
whoever the jason you loved was, i’m not him.
i’m sorry.
if you know me as well as you think you do, you’d know that being my friend is a really terrible idea.

[He almost wants to offer to meet with Loki, apologize for all the other incarnations of himself he’s had the misfortune of knowing. But that too would be a terrible idea, wouldn’t it. Maybe it’s better to just let Loki be angry with him until he forgets Jason exists, in this reality or any other. Maybe that’s the kinder option.]

[ Big baby, as ever. ]

Don't be so dramatic or stupid, you're obviously upset because of something. No need to lash out at me because you got mauled: your ribs hurt, I noticed.

You don't get a choice whether I'm your friend. :) Come visit the Sanctum Sanctorum sometime when you aren't moping.

Edited 2018-10-11 17:45 (UTC)

[Great. Another stage three clinger. Just what Jason needs.]

i don’t know what or where that is.

[It’s a weak excuse, but Jason’s already done more internet research than he’d like for one day. Also when is it likely he won’t be moping?]

Edited 2018-10-11 18:37 (UTC)

at the rave;

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floor 9; balcony

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before peter's de-aging plot yes;

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