i can't remember the good old days.

[bamboozlement]

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!]

Comments

[ikols]

We were best friends.

[ That's all that comes to mind as he frowns, searching for something more impressive a moment later. Loki glances around, uncertain. ]

I can do whatever you want.

[ Pretty much. He would only offer for a very small number of people with whom Jason shares the honour of commanding a god. Loki doesn't look much like one as he brings up a hand with green lights burning above it, not knowing how to navigate "everything". ]

[bamboozlement]

[Jason is not entirely unsympathetic to what Loki must be feeling at this moment; he’s always had more empathy than he likes to let on, something he keeps carefully hidden behind the walls he constructs and the masks and body armor he wears and the sharp words that roll off his tongue as easily as breathing. Something about the way Loki offers that We were best friends slips past the walls and burrows deep in his heart, and Jason can’t help thinking about how he’d given up his memories once, and Roy had been so steadfast in remaining at his side. This feels awfully similar.]

Just - [he exhales a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his mouth] - explain it to me. Help me understand - why were we best friends? How? I’m not - I’m not the kinda guy who has friends. I’m not the kinda guy anyone gets to be close to in love with. Hanging around with me is a fast-track ticket to getting hurt or killed or worse.

[He has to stop for a moment, take in a deep, steadying breath, eyes shut to the memory of Roy almost dying on a live broadcast, of Artemis and Bizarro exploding over the Gotham City skyline. The pain of those memories crawls over his expression, just for a moment; then he takes another breath and pushes everything back down again, opens his eyes and pins blue on Loki once again.]

I’m not anything special. Hell, I’m about as far on the opposite end of that spectrum as you can get. So why does a god care so much about where I am and what I’m doing and what I’m feeling? Why do you want to be my friend? Why is that so important to you?

[ikols]

[ Loki's answer is simple as the fire in his hand dies down, eyes steadily on Jason who looks more than a little rattled. ]

Maybe if we become friends again, you'll understand.

[ He turns away, hands trailing over cabinets. ]

Are you hungry? I'm a good cook, this is me offering.

[bamboozlement]

[Jason has built
his sense of identity on the foundational truth that he is unwanted, unloveable, unfit for basic human social connections like friends and family. Being presented with such strong evidence to the contrary feels like being struck by an earthquake. Of course he’s rattled.]

No. [He probably should be hungry; he can’t remember the last time he ate. Maybe it was yesterday. Right now, Jason’s stomach protests at the thought of food. He purses his lips, mouth suddenly dry.] No, I should - I should go.

[Loki didn’t lie, but he also didn’t answer the question satisfactorily, and Jason imagines he won’t. No sense arguing about it, then - what can a mortal really do to convince a god to bend his will?

Jason turns to leave.]

[ikols]

[ There is quite suddenly a wall of red descending on Jason. Loki yells and his kneejerk reaction, before the scarlet wave descends, is to rush over in a panic. ]

Cloak, stop!

[ It is a cloak: the sentient Cloak of Levitation, in fact, and contrary to first impressions it isn't trying to smother Jason in its velveteen iron-like grip, dragging him downward like a living tornado.

It wraps around him in a hug. ]

Get off him, that's inappropriate touching! Cloak!

[bamboozlement]

[Oh, OK, this is how Jason dies a second time, strangled to death by a magic cloak. This is fine???

At any other time, Jason’s instinct would be to fight this thing off - maybe draw the All-Blades and slash it to ribbons, maybe just try to wrangle it into submission with brute force. But Jason is in no shape to fight with injured ribs, and he is tired, has been lost in a haze of defeat for days. He sinks to the floor on hands and knees, then sits back on his heels as he glances up to Loki.]

Think I could make a case for a lawsuit?

[This is his life now, he guesses!]

[ikols]

Oh my me, I'm so sorry. He has attachment issues.

[ Loki sags in relief as the situation de-escalates into one very cuddly scrap of fabric around an exasperated outlaw. Hand on a hip, he gives Jason an apologetic look and wags a finger at the offending garment. ]

You can't go around glomping people, it's a very dangerous practice banned in many conventions! Let him go right now. [ The Cloak rubs its collar against Jason's cheek like a cat begging for attention. ] I don't care if he's not struggling, Jason is right. You're a lawsuit waiting to happen! Is he hugging you back? No!

[ The Cloak sags too, then, reluctantly flopping off Jason to float to one side, collar bowed in shame. Loki folds his arms. ]

Apologise for being such a needy carpet.

[ Yelping as a corner of red fabric smacks him up upside the head in repayment for the insult, Loki steps back to rub it better as the Cloak swishes in between them. It offers Jason one of its front corners hesitantly. Shake? ]

[bamboozlement]

[This entire situation is so absurd Jason finds himself quietly laughing in spite of everything else he’s feeling. “Lovingly attacked by a magic cloak” is not something he ever imagined crossing off any list of any kind, and yet.]

Interesting pet you’ve got here. [Sure, he’ll shake - carefully, like he’s unsure of whether his normal grip would crush the life out of the fabric.] I take it he knew the previous Jason?

[ikols]

[ Cloak, happy to shake that hand enthusiastically, swerves around them in a circle before settling on Loki's shoulders. The godling stares at it for a moment but it makes no more odd gestures, sitting still like the innocent fucker it isn't. Hmph. ]

No, actually, but he was in here when we said goodbye as I put the locks of hair away. He's a bit of a ... [ "Creep" is mouthed, not wanting to say it while the Cloak has full access to his throat. ] The Cloak of Levitation bonds with its master, it doesn't like to see them, um, sad.

[ MOVING ON, Loki waves a hand to the door, taking a step toward it. ]

I'll show you out, like you wanted. Sorry if he bruised you.

[bamboozlement]

I was already bruised. [With a wicked black eye and smaller, more faded purple and yellow marks dotting his face, likely more where that came from hidden underneath his clothes.] But I don’t think he did any damage.

[Well, that sure is a way to shift the mood. Jason assumes Loki’s sadness that the cloak is picking up on is because of him, though he still doesn’t understand why. He hadn’t even died this time, just left and came back without any memory of their friendship. Surely, he thinks, that can’t be any great loss, and yet that thought does nothing to soothe the twist of guilt he feels burrowing deep in his gut.

Slowly and carefully, with great effort taken to not overextend his injuries, Jason climbs to his feet and crosses the floor toward Loki, coming to a halt once he’s caught up to the godling.]

For what it’s worth, Loki, I’m sorry I can’t be who you want me to be.

[ikols]

[ He looks from eye to bruised eye, staring at Jason with a twitch in his lips that has a dozen different things to say and none that rest right on his tongue. Finally he shakes his head and goes with, ]

You're a good man, Jason, you always are. I know you're clever and kind without having to experience that firsthand anymore. In any case ... the Sanctum is always here if you have need of me, I won't bully my way into your life again.

[ Offering a hand, not to be shaken but taken en route downstairs. ]

[bamboozlement]

[Jason snorts lightly.]

I’m pretty sure you’re the only one who believes that about me, in this dimension or any other.

[Jason knows he isn’t an evil person, but not all things are a question of simple black or white. Sometimes, the distance between evil and good is a wide gap, filled with many shades of grey. Jason places himself somewhere in the middle of that scale, probably toward the darker end, but he owns the choices he makes, good or bad.

He has a choice now, a decision to make as far as how to proceed navigating this new chapter of his life. Part of him wants to take the out Loki gives him, believing that he’ll only cause him harm by allowing him any measure of in.

But there is another part of him - the incredibly lonely part, the part left raw as a ripped-open wound by what happened in Gotham - that wants the friendship Loki offers, the understanding of who he is at his core and the acceptance of him, flaws and all. And that’s the part that wins out, at the end of a moment’s deliberation, when Jason takes Loki’s hand.]

Thank you. [Having allies never hurts, and if that ally happens to be a god? Even better.] Maybe sometime - after I get a little more settled in - you could show me the best place to get chili dogs around here.