awashlogs | AUG CATCH-ALL

reference

Drop a comment here if you're hunting Damian down to tell him some rad feelings; otherwise, I'll throw up a starter for pre-made plans!

Edited 2018-08-04 02:58 (UTC)

[ dextera is not going to hunt damian down for this one. it’s going to be sent where he does not have to look damian in the eye, and he is not forcing damian to do the same for him, either. he’s not usually embarrassed about his feelings, but there are… a lot of things going on in his heart, after all. ]

Damian. I hope this message reaches you well.

I’m sure you saw the quest. This isn’t a “confession” as much as it is a “confirmation,” since I hope that you already understand how important you are to me. I’ve never said anything like this, so forgive me if it sounds strange.

You’re an incredible young man, Damian. I don’t know what you think of yourself, but to me and the animals that have come to feel like an extension of myself, you’ve been so kind, even if it doesn’t always seem that way. When I think about some of the conversations we’ve had, I don’t think that your support always looks like platitude… but that’s all right. I don’t need those empty words. I think you understand me in ways that most people wouldn’t, and no matter where that empathy comes from, I’m grateful for it.

These feelings may not be “strong” in the way that the quest asks, but if I get no reward for this, I don’t mind.

I like you. You’re a dear friend to me. If it’s all right with you, I want to continue to get to know you as the person you are, and the person that you’re striving to become. The way you look toward the future with the hope that you can be better is inspiring.

Thank you.

Dextera

[This is fine. In the end, Damian prefers Dextera not running him down for words as kind as these. He already feels undeserving; he can't imagine having to listen to them come so sincerely out of Dextera's mouth.

The worrying part is Dextera receives no reply for about a day. Walking around town, he doesn't see a whole lot of Damian either. Hm.

And then, Dextera has a... reverse burglary? Returning to his house and going into his room nets him a gift: a bowl with two strawberry hand pies. Despite knowing how Perfection a certain thirteen year old seems to be, the pies are made much too well for simply Damian. Apparently, he enlisted the help of someone who can cook.

There's also a note under the bowl, left unsigned:]

I'm not good with explaining gratitude and pleasantries, so I won't make a fool of myself trying. There are much better candidates for you for this quest, you know.

I'm working on not being who I used to be--cold, and cruel, and apathetic. It's easy for Jon, or Kent, or even Father. I'm not sure how they do it so effortlessly.

Anyway, an ugly and irritating bird told me you liked strawberries the best. [The bird's name starts with a G and ends in -uren.] You can eat both of them and gloat to this ugly bird, or you can share one with him if you want.

If you share it, I want you to tell him I made it only after he's eaten all of it.

[ and this is going to come a day or two later, a follow-up to damian’s message. maybe the worst follow-up, but damian did this to himself. ]

We did share it. Guren said it was gross that you made it, but he liked it so much that he licked it off my fingers.

Thank you for the pies, Damian.

Edited 2018-08-11 12:59 (UTC)

[Mission... partial... success. Licking it off Dextera's fingers is both eye-opening and unwanted information. He now has the falling dominoes toward realizing they are an item and, in the future, fuel to torment Guren again.

For now, he's just grossed out himself. All he can think to reply with is a begrudging:]

You're welcome.

reference

Drop a comment here if you're fighting Damian in the pit (you can also assume they've already just fallen down there); otherwise, I'll throw up a starter for pre-made plans!

reference

Drop a comment here if you need Damian's help with a boat; otherwise, I'll throw up a starter for pre-made plans! He lives in one of the house boats in Bluo already... so go ham.

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Drop a comment here if you're giving Damian a flower crown! If you're receiving one from Damian, I'll do you a starter!

Hey, you're blue, right? Da ba dee, da ba die?

[This is such a bizarre quest but you know what, apparently her wreath-making skills are actually pretty good, because the flower crown she's holding out is remarkably less shitty than a lot of people's — woven of ivy with irises and lavender threaded through it.]

Here. I even put in a secret flower message and everything.

[Irises mean "I have a message"; lavender is for "calmness". The message here is presumably "hey boy have you ever considered calming down a day in your life".]

[The sweet 90s reference is completely lost on Damian, and that's really very sad. After a long moment of hesitation, he reaches out to take the crown. He's surprisingly gentle in how he holds it. For a boy who could kill several people with bare hands, he has a lot of control over the strength it seems.

Unfortunately, the message isn't lost on him.] I'm blue. [He looks over the crown. The composition isn't bad and neither is the craftsmanship.] You want to tell me something.

"Tranquility"?

Yeah, pretty much. Tranquility, calmness. Serenity.

[It's interesting, though, the way that he takes the crown. From a stubborn teenage boy, she would've expected rougher handling, maybe even snatching it away from her to subject it to his immediate and exacting scrutiny. But the way he's treating it is careful, with almost surprising...tact, maybe.

It makes her wonder how often people give him random gifts like this. Maybe no one ever does, and that's why he treats even meaningless ones like this as though they're precious.]

"Calm down".

[For right this moment, he still doesn't put the crown on. His eyes linger on the flowers, twist gently into something exasperated at the last bit, then soften once more. Calm down. Geez. HE'S CALM. Sometimes.]

The quest said it had to be someone worthy...?

[His eyes lift to her. It's a question because... he doesn't think he's ever really done anything "worthy" exactly. Not since being with his father or since being here. He's only done... what felt right?]

Worthy's kind of an ambiguous term, isn't it?

[She shrugs a little, watching the microexpressions as they flicker across his face. At another time and in another place, this would be the point when she'd start lying to get what she wants. This time, there's no need for that, because there isn't really anything she wants, so there's no compelling reason not to just tell the truth.]

You're a little punk, but you're smart. You don't take people's shit. You barely knew anything about me but you still stepped up and told me not to chuck people into pocket dimensions without knowing what the long-term effects on them might be. There are worse things in the world than a smart tough guy who holds his own when it comes to the things that are important to him. World could probably use a few more of those than we've got, frankly.

[Admittedly, now he just feels awkward. It's not that he thinks these are lies, fed to him for no reason, fed to him to make him feel better. Based on their other interactions, he gets that Summer, like him, wouldn't hand out frivolous falsehoods.

He seems undecided for a bit, eyes on the crown. He hadn't looked at her any while she had been speaking.] Thank my father. I wouldn't be nearly as forgiving if it hadn't been for him.

[Then, finally, he lifts the crown and lowers it on his head. He'll accept this, he supposes.]

So what, you're saying you would've kicked my ass if your dad hadn't been such a good influence?

[She's mostly aware that's not what he's saying in the slightest, but the levity is a conversational escape, making an opening for him to run through if he wants to take it.]

Not bad. That looks pretty good on you, actually.

Yes. I would have dismissed you as unworthy and unskilled, relying too heavily on "magic," and I would have bested you should you have tried to attack me for it.

[The very edges of his lips twitch as a smirk, but it quickly fades and is replaced by exasperation.]

What? Just shut up...

Wow, fuck you too.

[YOU CAN'T SAY THAT TO A THIRTEEN-YEAR-OLD SUMMER even if let's be real it's a valid sentiment.]

I'm not dumb enough to just up and attack somebody head-on, anyway. I've seen that one go bad for too many people way too fast to ever fall for it myself.

[It's fine. It actually gets Damian to smirk just a little more again. He's... a sucker for... feisty women??? It runs in the family.]

Subterfuge? You don't really look like the type.

Isn't that basically the definition of subterfuge, that you don't look like the type?

[She rolls her eyes at him, mimicking his pronunciation on those last few words.]

Tt. [He rolls his eyes back. Quite hilarious with flower crowns on.] Spare me the semantics. It's simply deceit. Though I suppose a girl who would throw just anyone into a pocket dimension to survive might be prone to goal-oriented deceit in some way.

Maybe you should become an assassin. There haven't exactly been many gifted with magic.

You're really one to talk about semantics, Mr. Is-It-Or-Is-It-Not-Trespassing.

[But she kind of squints at him for a minute, because there's something about this conversation that is ringing as oddly familiar, and for a minute or two she can't quite place why, until —]

Are you fucking with me just to see how I'll react?

[The reaction garners her a somewhat curiously surprised reaction from him.]

No. I was seeing what you would say to someone when the idea was posed to you.

Oh. Well, that's fair.

[The look of surprise seems genuine enough, anyway. It's pretty hard to fake real surprise; there's always something in the eyes that sort of gives it away.]

I don't think I'd make a very good assassin. Killing people for someone else's goals isn't really my style.

You have abilities which would be favorable to assassin work, though I wouldn't recommend becoming one.

[Not that he, like, knows or anything...]

You most definitely would be able to give or receive flower crowns, that's for certain.

I have abilities that would be favorable to pizza delivery work, too, but I bet the assassin gig comes with better dental. Maybe.

[Hmmm.]

You seem pretty interested in my magic, for a guy who acts so skeptical of it. Professional interest?

Betrayal insurance.

[Might as well just be brutally honest, as nothing else here can seem to be hidden for too long. Village is too small. It's not like Gotham. He'll cling to the last remnants of his secret identity and everyone else can pry it out of his cold, dead fingers.]

When you go rogue, I'll know how to plan to stop you.

Smart.

[That's...maybe not what you're supposed to say about someone openly admitting they're trying to learn things about you so they know how to ferret out your weaknesses later, but there's no indication that he's kidding, and if nothing else, that's something she can — hmm.

Not respect, exactly. Certainly not approve of, for the obvious personal reasons. Appreciate? Acknowledge the logic of? Sure, something along those lines. He's playing the game the smart way. It's exactly what she'd be doing, too, if she were in his shoes, and she has been before.]

You kinda missed the boat on the component piece, though — getting on my good side so I'll be less cagey about my secrets. Also because if I like you I'll probably kill you last. More time for you to get your counteroffensive in the air.

[...]

Alternatively, heading off my sudden but inevitable betrayal at the pass. If you're a mitigating factor, maybe I won't have a motive to go rogue in the first place.

I'm aware pretending to be your friend would get me answers quickly, but I'm not in the habit of forming superficial relationships. [This is his choice, but he still sounds offended...] And I'm not my brother, Grayson, or Jon who both take pride and joy in befriending everyone they meet.

[This is all sounding extremely familiar, and subconsciously, Damian is super uncomfortable. There's more people with his kind of essence? Scary.]

Besides, I wasn't implying you would make the choice to go rogue. It's easier to stop someone who had a choice. I'm more worried about the day the town forces you to do something you don't want to do.

That's why I'm interested in your skillset.

...You think that's going to happen, then. Town-induced brainwashing, or something like that.

[Now that's a sobering thought if she's ever heard one. She's had more than enough of that back on the Isle with the wizard; the last thing she needs is to try to face it down around here, too.]

What about you? Is there someone here who can stop you?

Sooner or later, it's bound to happen.

[There's a large handful of people who can, technically, stop him. All they need is shitty powers, not unlike Summer's own. The only thing Damian has going for him is being stubborn, persistent. A cockroach when it comes to dying.

But at the question, there's only one person he can think of immediately.]

My father.

...Lucky you. Having family here, and everything.

[She's quiet for a minute, like she's mulling something over, caught momentarily on something he'd said earlier and unable to extract herself entirely from it.]

You get along with your brother?

[Damian frowns at this bit of jab solely because, for a long time, he too didn't have a father. He didn't have anyone but his mother, training him like a soldier, and his grandfather breathing down the back of his neck.

So it stings a little.] Be more specific.

Which one? [Technically, Heretic had been his true brother... Is a clone a brother? A twin? Himself?] I have two legal half-brothers, a boy who is a family friend, and a degenerate who only shows up when he wants something.

Hard to be specific when I didn't know you had more than one to begin with.

[It's kind of funny to listen to him, though, with the way that he describes them all. It's not unlike the way she tends to describe the cadre of friends she's taken to calling her "idiot boys" — those losers, that idiot, the one that's mine, the frustrating ones that you can't stand yet still are attached to.]

Is there one you're closer to than you are the others? Not necessarily a favorite, even, but just...the one that gets you best.

[She shrugs a little, gaze going askance as she tries to keep her voice light and casual but doesn't entirely succeed.]

That's how my brother was. The one person who got me better than anyone else.

[The bitterness fades, and he just ends up still frowning... except more softly than before. His eyes look away. Apparently thinking about the answer to this question, or thinking about the person who is the answer is a shy embarrassment for him.

Or maybe it's simply because he had some clapback only for her to open up with her own family. Both. Probably both.]

...Grayson. The first boy my father adopted nearly twenty or so years ago. His jokes are horrid, and he doesn't know how to keep his nose out of other people's business... [His brows pinch. Dick is one of the few people he misses the most.] ...but always knows what to say and the right time to say it.

I love people like that. The Venn diagram of people who like shitty jokes and who are great to be around when you're really in the clutch seems to have a lot of overlap, in my experience.

[She's adding things up slowly, though, taking note of what he says and how he phrases things, gathering up all the little bits of information and stringing them together into a necklace of assumption.]

That's why they're legal half-brothers, right? Different moms, but your dad adopted them all?

Yes. [After a long, uncertain pause, he heaves a quiet sigh. It's less he thinks he can't be assed to explain and more it's just... fucking convoluted as hell.]

Grayson was born to famous acrobat parents, and they traveled with Haly's Circus. They were called the Flying Graysons. A crime lord had his parents murdered. Since Grayson had no one to perform with any longer, he went into one of my father's care centers for orphans.

Father took a liking to him because he was trying to find the murderer of his parents, similar to how Father was looking for the murderer of his own.

Todd was father's second attempt at adoption; however... [It's not something he feels like he would tell just anyone. But knowing this place. Knowing what he knows of Summer, of her understanding of certain things, magic, etc...] Todd died before anything was made official. He wouldn't return until later. He's the degenerate.

Drake was father's third attempt. He had parents even after meeting Father, but they later died, and Drake allowed Father to officially adopt him.

The family friend is Thomas. He also has parents... or he did. They're missing. We're assisting him in searching for them.

[...Well, in the midst of all of that, there's one glaring point that absolutely demands to be remarked upon, isn't there.]

...Todd died. And then he "returned later"?

[A degenerate zombie, perhaps.]

People can raise the dead, where you're from?

[Much like a lot of the things he separates and compartmentalizes, it's easy to discuss this with someone like Summer (especially) and discuss it clinically. Professionally?

He's not a biologist or a mortician.] Debatable.

He woke up in his grave. [His brevity is telling, if Summer recognizes how usually very precise and Know It All he is. Hm.] Then he was dipped into a pool of natural substance which has restorative properties. [Leaving out the immortality part.............] The downside is it has various side effects.

He's legally dead, but lives.

That's fucked up.

[She rubs at the right side of her face, though — an absentminded little gesture with the knuckles of her right hand that's probably either a habit or a subconscious quirk, or maybe a little of both.]

Are the side effects what made him a degenerate? Or is that just his sparkling personality?

[Without responding to the declaration, he watches Summer for a moment or two in the silence. It's pretty fucked up, she isn't wrong. He just isn't going to give Jason the benefit of agreeing!! Listen.]

He was a degenerate before the substance. He was caught stealing my father's tires when he was a boy. [Well. Batman's tires, which makes it doubly hilarious, but Damian can't say that much right now.] The Pit does, however, make you unstable.

AUG CATCH-ALL

QUEST 20 - FEELINGS

#030066 | inbox | 8/5ish

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QUEST 21 - THE PIT

QUEST 22 - BOATS

QUEST 23 - FLOWER CROWNS

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at last after ten million years i'm free (time to conquer earth)

f r e e d o m