With a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit 'em right between the eyes

[pixieboots]

who: pint-sized Dick Grayson + YOU
what: Dick is 12 years old and confused
when: June 13 - 24
where: everywhere
warnings: child endangerment, bat angst, possible minor injury



"See 'em running for their lives"

[ Crime waits for no unresolved personal crisis, as it turns out, which is actually more of a relief today than it probably should be. It's luck that Robin spots the thief in action just ahead of the victim's yell, but it's that luck that gives him an advantage. An objective. Finally something to chase down that isn't the ghost of the man he's supposed to be someday.

He gives chase across the roof, bridging gaps between buildings with a dazzling array of acrobatics, all restless, over the top flair as he closes the distance.

He's set up for a dramatic entrance at the end of a blind alley, a confrontation to end all petty thievery for all time, but in the split second that he's mid-showy quad flip the thief below plows into someone crossing the street and abruptly changes direction, and Dick's lost him by the time he hits the street below. ]

Hey. [ And he'll snag the hapless bystander by the sleeve. ] You see where they went?

[ Whether you're a hapless bystander, the unlucky victim, or even the thief, Robin doesn't seem to be prepared to let the issue slide anytime soon. His gaze narrows, roving to one street, then another. ]


"Show me how to lie, you're getting better all the time"

[ If you happen to be acquainted with the grownup-sized version of Dick Grayson (or even if you're not, I'll just handwave a reason tbh) your home or place of work has potentially made Robin's list of hotspots. Breaking and entering isn't right of course, especially not without probable cause, so he's careful to case the area first, waiting for the moment when he's pretty sure whoever he's following is going to be away for a while.

He needs information. He needs to know about this place, about what it all means to the people stuck here, and he doesn't believe in his heart that any adult will give it to him straight. He has to know. He has to.

Catch him just ahead of the act - perched precariously at a window or crouching by a door, lockpick in hand - or catch him already inside, picking his way through belongings with a set of evidence gloves on over Robin's green ones. When people don't know can't hurt them, after all. ]


"Now someone is gonna pay"

[ By the end of the week you'll be able to catch him in civvies, attempting to blend with other groups of tween-age children near schools and parks, walking on his hands in high spots where no sane person should feel comfortable balancing, or eating copious amounts of ice cream and candy as he wanders the city.

As Robin he's a little flutter of yellow cape on the roof, a batarang tucked into a bird's nest, an obnoxious burst of laughter if you happen to make a pratfall somewhere in public. He's incredibly easy to find lurking nearby if you happen to stand out in some obvious way. ]

Comments

[pixieboots]

[ There's an obvious risk to camping out here, away from the sheltering proximity of other homes. Other people. The place draws his attention at once for that reason, though somehow he suspects his older self would have mentioned it somewhere in the file if it was important. Surely he had to have known it was here.

Or maybe he hadn't. Dick is lost without the comforting familiarity of Gotham's streets. Without the certainty that his partner is coming for him no matter what. Everything feels suspect and strange, and the outliers even more so.

He's been inside just long enough for a cursory glance, long enough to determine that it's occupied by a man and his son, that there's probably nothing here that will tell him anything, when he turns and abruptly realizes his mistake. Robin stumbles back at once, tripping gracelessly over a kitchen chair and toppling over. He stares, eyes wide behind his mask. ]

...Superman?!

[signifies]

[ Any tension there was melts away at hearing that. Clark stays where he is with a loose posture. His hands are empty.

It's Dick. His voice hasn't broken yet, but it's Dick, and not some stranger who means him and Jon harm. ]

Robin? [ He errs on the side of caution and uses the codename. ] What's going on?

[pixieboots]

I- shoot. [ This is Superman's house. Superman's house that he'd broken into. Dick is starting to panic, shame and guilt rising up in a paralyzingly flood. He scrambles to his feet. ]

I didn't mean to, I swear. I just- I saw the place, and it was out of the city, so I thought...

[ None of the justifications he'd had in his mind five minutes ago seem to apply now. ]

[signifies]

You're not in trouble. [ He comes forward and puts a warm, reassuring hand on Dick's shoulder. ] Take a deep breath. Tell me what's going on.

[pixieboots]

[ The Superman effect is profound, and the calming words do the job. He can't be afraid in this man's presence.

It means he isn't alone in a city full of strangers now. ]

...I was, uh- I was doing recon. I know the public files explain a lot, but you've gotta do some digging before you settle on what the truth is, right?

[ And now he looks at the place with new eyes. It's a home, alright. Not a temporary hideout or trap in disguise. He glances up at Clark, brow furrowed. ]

So... you live here? [ He sounds uncertain. ]

With a kid?

[signifies]

Yes, I do.

[ In principle Dick's logic is sound, but Clark's not sure how he really feels about someone breaking into the house. ]

Do you want something to eat? How long have you been on recon?

[pixieboots]

Uh... a while. [ He's pretty desperately hungry, actually. But he needs to mind his manners, and the fact that they're having this conversation at all is a serious breach. ]

But you don't have to feed me, Mr. Kent. I was breaking and entering.

[signifies]

You can leave through the window, and come back in through the front door. How about it?

[pixieboots]

[ The tautness in his expression clears. He tosses a "be right back!" over his shoulder as he darts back to the window in a little flutter of yellow cape, vanishing as quickly and silently as he'd come.

And less than five minutes later, there's a polite knock at the front door. The clothes he's wearing now are dramatically oversized, but he had thought to comb his hair down neatly. This is Superman. Dick wants badly to make up for the oversight. ]

[signifies]

[ He hadn't expected Dick to be so literal about that. It's okay, though. ]

Come in.

Where've you been so far?

[pixieboots]

He had these, um. Files. [ He'd found them, as he figures he was probably intended to in the event that Officer Grayson was compromised. He sets his jaw. ]

Contingency plans. And some other stuff. [ He'd learned that Superman was here, but not where to find him. He'd seen a future with almost nothing in it that he could accept. A future he wants to erase. He takes a breath. ]

I thought if I started with some groundwork, we'd run into each other eventually. [ The idea of a Superman as trapped as he apparently is here is a daunting one. He looks up at him, a touch hesitant. ]

...Then we could work together.

[signifies]

We will. [ He seems more nervous than usual, and Clark hasn't been on the receiving end of enough hero worship to say that's what it is. ] Do you want to tell me what's the in files?

[pixieboots]

He didn't say much about you. [ Dick figures he'd wonder. He rubs at the back of his neck, feeling oddly shy. ]

...He was protecting you, I guess.

[signifies]

You would.

[ He's not sure if that's okay to say because there's a huge age gap, but he can't really see Dick not protecting him. ]