[in person] gonna just assume his door is locked for my FUNredripoffMay 22 2011, 20:53:53 UTC
[His ETA is precisely accurate, aside from the slight problem of Dick's locked door. He curses quietly outside the door, but it's not like it's a hard thing to undo. A few minutes of the knob rattling, and Tim pops the door open, manner as crisp as it was over the feed.] Dick, what happened.
[OOC: quick desc. of Dick's state/state of the room?]
[in person] In Dick's defense. He didn't know and couldn't go open it.notasidedickMay 22 2011, 20:58:29 UTC
[Dick is sitting in the middle of his room. The room looks fine except for the unmade bed, where the sheets are half on the bed and on the floor.
Dick, by far, is the worst looking thing in the room. He looked tired, and he has a slightly vacant look in his eyes. He tries to give Tim a smile but it's forced.
His whole body has bruises and marks from the beatings he got. Above the gold collar is a scar that goes all around his neck and there are rope burns on his wrists and ankles. Dick doesn't want to even talk about what internal injuries he might have.] I died.
[He can only stare for a second. His eyes traces from one hand up his arm, sweep over his whole body, and Tim breaths once:] Why? [Drags a hand over his mouth as he comes fully into the room. Maybe he's being too fast; he's not sure where Dick's mind is, doesn't know if this is okay. But after the weeks of avoidance, Tim is quick to have his hands at Dick's arm, both sliding to turn and investigate and apprise the damage.]
[He raises an eyebrow.] Why what? I don't think I can answer your question. [To be honest, the fact Tim will approach makes him feel a little less tense. If this is Tim's way of saying that he's done avoiding him, he'll accept it. He winces slightly. His whole body is screaming.]
You think all those years of paranoia from the Bat would let me push it? [His voice is quiet and slightly raw. And he's taking heavy breaths. God damn it, those interns never want to at least fix them up right.]
[He palms down, up the arm, presses carefully at the shoulder, gently pries and pushes until his fingertips brush the scar at Dick's neck. There, his hand flinches back, feathers cautiously back down to track the ragged edge.
[His own breathing picks up for a few seconds (what did they do, what happened, who is he going to have to demolish), before he calms himself by threading his hand through Dick's hair. Asks sternly:] Cough for me.
[He winces, but doesn't move much as the other continues to inspect him. His eyes widened slightly when he feels Tim's fingers on his neck.] I guess it was silly to hope that it didn't leave a mark.
[He glances at Tim for a second. He wants to be stubborn and not. But Tim would convince him to do so.
He coughs, and it is by far the most painful thing he's done other then breathing. Speckles of blood comes out of his mouth and he visibly cringes and shuts his eyes. He takes in a lot of air right after too.]
[He puts a hand over Tim's hand lightly.] I'll...I'll get one. Just- [He ignores the fact that his entire body is screaming against him. But he can't make himself care. He's hugging Tim tightly, his body shaking slightly.]
[He stiffens initially, afraid to move and hurt Dick, afraid that he himself won't be able to be close for very long--but a few slowly breaths, and his hand move to rub soft, nervous circles at Dick's shoulderblades. Whispers harshly into his hair:] I got really scared. Oh my god, I was so...god, what did they do to you?
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[Don't let him get away Tim. Dick is trying to avoid people right now.]
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Are you in your room?
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I'm..I am. I don't need you coming though. Your friends should have your attention right?
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[OOC: quick desc. of Dick's state/state of the room?]
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Dick, by far, is the worst looking thing in the room. He looked tired, and he has a slightly vacant look in his eyes. He tries to give Tim a smile but it's forced.
His whole body has bruises and marks from the beatings he got. Above the gold collar is a scar that goes all around his neck and there are rope burns on his wrists and ankles. Dick doesn't want to even talk about what internal injuries he might have.] I died.
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Tell me you didn't press it yourself.
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You think all those years of paranoia from the Bat would let me push it? [His voice is quiet and slightly raw. And he's taking heavy breaths. God damn it, those interns never want to at least fix them up right.]
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[His own breathing picks up for a few seconds (what did they do, what happened, who is he going to have to demolish), before he calms himself by threading his hand through Dick's hair. Asks sternly:] Cough for me.
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[He glances at Tim for a second. He wants to be stubborn and not. But Tim would convince him to do so.
He coughs, and it is by far the most painful thing he's done other then breathing. Speckles of blood comes out of his mouth and he visibly cringes and shuts his eyes. He takes in a lot of air right after too.]
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