logsinthenight | a chance encounter || closed

Entry tags:

a chance encounter || closed

characters: Jason Todd (

mind_blown) and Peter Parker (

webshoots)
location: Village, moving towards ice cream
date/time: August 10, daytime.
content: It's just a chance encounter log, following up their last discussion-- except I guess, this time Peter isn't meeting Jason as Spidey!
warnings: None, will edit if that changes.

[there really wasn't a lot going on. part of him wanted to go out on his own, leave the rest of the group behind. but even he knew that that would be practical suicide, given how little they knew about the rest of the area. and he was too stubborn to ask dick for help, no matter how many times he offered it.

guess he was still bitter over the graves.

but also, there was only so much "being personable" he could stand in a search for information, especially after he'd worked through who was useful, and who was a dick despite being useful... and who wasn't. he didn't need a drink, but man, he sure would like a smoke to think it out. or a goddamned burger and fries.

and he didn't have time to learn how to use oil to make them himself.

At any rate, after a successful day of foraging it's time to finally hit up the mystery flavors of ice cream. that he'd said he'd do forever ago. when he jumps down from his perch, he glances at the one person he'd seen near-by.]

'Scuse me.

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[fiiiiine. He sighs and offers a mildly sheepish shrug— though the expression doesn’t exactly match. He didn’t hang out with normal people all that much, but he had to imagine Isabella would be giving him an earful.]

Right. Anyway, where are my manners? I’m Jason. Most of everything I said was a bit of gallows humor. I’m new and still exploring this place.

[and he’s tired. That’s fine.]

[ oh, so this guy is—

(red hood. that'd been what he'd called himself, right?)

—that makes sense. (peter had checked the directory on the tablet not long after arriving, continued to check it periodically — there was only jason, from what peter could see, so: huh.) after the flicker of surprise fades from peter's expression, he holds a hand out— ] Jason, right. I'd say it's nice to meet you, but given the circumstances... [ he trails off with a shrug, though it's accompanied by a flash of a smile that manages to sit somewhere between amused and apologetic. ] You managed to find much? Via your, uh, roof crawling? The village seems to have more going on than the square around the Bonfire, but that's only by a comparative definition of things going on.

The square has the fire, who knows if it actually has the most going on. It’s kind of hard to tel without being able to see? But I did find a hobo in a treehouse.

[he will never stop giving Dick a hard time about that. And how he referred to him, well... no harm in ribbing his brother, right? He offers the barest hint of a smile, at that.]

But honestly, I’m still getting an opinion on this place.

—A hobo in a treehouse? [ the note of surprise is entirely genuine — peter was aware that some of them had made use of unconventional lodgings, but he hadn't entirely expected someone to go ahead and either claim (or build? did they build it?) an entire treehouse. ] They know there's an inn, right? And— [ he waves a hand over a shoulder: the village has plenty of buildings compared to the current population. if someone wanted privacy and a place to stay, they didn't need to do it in a tree.

still. a quirk of a smile. ] I've been here a month and I'm still trying to form an opinion on this place that isn't just 'unsettling'.

They do. It's a choice. A choice they built a lot sturdier than I expected, but still a choice. You might not know Dick Grayson, but this was probably one of his more bird-brained ideas. I won't say where it is out of respect of what he was trying to do, but I let him know what I thought of it. [the way he talks about him is very familiar, very open.

very much like family ribbing on family. but he stretches lightly, thinking back to what he hopped down to do-- and also casually glancing at what it was that Peter was carrying. trying to get a sense of what type of person this guy he felt very certain he's talked to before was like. Maybe it'd hit him eventually, like a sack of bricks.

wouldn't be the first time.]

Anyway, I'm thinking of trying the ice cream. Were you headed in the same direction?

Huh, [ soft and almost contemplative — he'd met dick o...nce, he wants to say, and he hadn't struck him as the 'hobo in a tree' type, but evidently it took all sorts. peter doesn't miss the familiar tone jason adopts and peter thinks, momentarily, of that first conversation he and jason had had, where jason had mentioned knowing about — expecting — divergent and alternate dimensions, and he wonders—

—but doesn't ask. there's a curious glance instead, one that quickly follows jason's attention to the items in his hands: there's nothing immediately discernible, just a handful of — plastic? (maybe). his lips twitch briefly and he acknowledges the glance with a vague shrug. ] —Apparently the mailman missed the 'fragile' aspect of the package.

[ but moving swiftly on, because ice cream. he hadn't been, but ice cream is always a great shout, so— ] You're a man with priorities. [ beat. ] You know where it is?

[it definitely took all sorts. especially in their family. though, he knows he's being a little too obvious, when Peter answers one of the questions he hadn't quite gotten to asking. And so, he rolls a shoulder, letting that question drop.

he'll figure it out later.

maybe. He'd need a better look at things, without completely giving himself away in the meantime.]

Nah. It's close to here, though. Am I hot or cold on that?

[he's slowly warming up to him.]

I feel like that's a trick question.

[ like, jason, dude, it's cold because it's ice cream, but it's also hot because that's the way that saying works, which means that he doesn't answer the question beyond that. instead, he glances right, then left, then— ] That way? [ somewhere between an answer and a question. based on the first time he'd been here and tried the ice cream, peter's pretty sure it's that way, but it's dark and peter does not have night vision, so whilst it looks about right, peter's prepared to be slightly wrong. ] I've heard it's got some pretty interesting flavours.

... Oh.

No, I'm not that good at word play. [he's the dumb robin.

he can own it for things like banter and any sort of pun that doesn't have anything to do with bats or birds, but you know. that's totally fair, and maybe the cheesiest of cheese lines like they have in the movies.]

So it was legit. Anyway, I'm gonna try all the flavors.

[he basically already promised he would.]

[ that earns a laugh and peter adds: ] Then hot.

[ he falls briefly silent as he bends down and shoves whatever it was he'd had in his hands in a rucksack — is it the same one that spider-man's occasionally seen with? you betcha. in a town as currently small as beacon, there are less places for peter to lose and/or forget about his rucksack(s) which, as far as these things go, is a pretty mixed blessing. (occasionally, his rucksack will be made out of webfluid, but that dissolves after an hour and your man's gotta conserve the webfluid.) ]

—All the flavours? [ sceptically, as he stands back up, hoisting his rucksack back over a shoulder and picking up his lantern with his free hand. ] You know there's thirty-one, right? Featuring such delicacies as— [ what had there been—? ] sriracha.

I know there are some questionable ones, but sounds like a challenge. So, why not? [said easily as he glances back at him. Realistically, he’s just following Peter. He knows there’s ice cream somewhere around there— and maybe he should have found it out himself. It’s weird to be tagging along with someone he barely knows, isn’t it?

None of this really shows for the moment. But he’s thinking about it as they walk.]

It’s the closest we’ve got to a fast food joint around here.

[ there's a moment where peter pauses, considering. he doesn't generally think of food as a challenge — peter's thought process tends to sit somewhere along the lines of 'does it (still) seem edible? great, let's give it a shot' — but it's a fair point. ] I mean, sure. [ side glance. ] We're dead, so what's the worst that can happen? [ rhetorically speaking, although almost immediately after saying that, peter hopes that he hasn't just managed to jinx the matter.

although when jason mentions it's the closest to a fast food joint they've got here, peter can't quite find it in himself to disagree. it is, but what he wouldn't give for a vendor that served something hot. ] We're looking for the stand with ice cream cones stacked on top, by the way. Just in case we weren't sure what we were looking for.

Are we dead? [asked with an exceptionally airy, and tired tone. It could almost be taken for sarcasm, and in fact, he adds onto it to make it seem as though it is.] Because I feel like I am living it up right now.

[he gets the opinion that his view is definitely... mixed. And after the graves, realistically he would never like to talk about death again. With anyone.

Much less this very earnest, very sarcastic guy that sounded like he was from New York.

Probably.]

[ living it up. there’s a sharp exhale of breath that’s definitely an ill-disguised laugh, because god, that was terrible. ]

That’s the going theory, [ peter replies dismissively. when he’d first arrived, he’d been married to the idea that they weren’t dead; he’d cycled through a list of potential suspects (the usual, followed by the less-likely), before accepting that this probably wasn’t thanks to anyone he had familiarity with — or, if it was, it was of a larger scope than ‘friendly neighborhood’ tended to signify.

after the fiasco with the graves? peter’s not so sure. there’s still a large part of him that leans towards death being an (the?) easy answer for something that seems a little more complex — alternate dimensions, time travel, divergent timelines—

pulling that off would take a lot of work and frankly, ‘complex’ doesn’t begin to cover it. ]

The only thing I know, Toto— [ ‘know’ enunciated carefully, with emphasis ], is that we’re not in Kansas anymore. [ pause. sly glance. ] But then, compared to Kansas...

[hey. The pop culture references definitely remind him of someone very specific. He pauses with a light “hah”, punctuating his response to Peter. He’d have to test some more before he could be sure.

But the voice and the pop culture? That ruled out the only other. Ew Yorker he’d met so far.]

You’ve been to Kansas?

[ nngh— ] No, but I saw The Wizard of Oz as a kid and if it taught me anything, it's: don't go to Kansas. [ it's uttered with a touch of self-awareness tinged with sheepishness, because look, it was an off-hand comment, don't take him too seriously, okay? he's travelled a few places, mostly thanks to parker industries, but at the end of the day, new york is where his heart's at. nevertheless — and moving on — peter slows down: the ice cream vendor was around here, he's sure of it— ] Have you?

[it hits him-- though not quite like a sack of bricks. he doesn't show that he's realized anything, instead focusing on answering Peter's question. But realistically? if someone asked him to put money on who he thought Spiderman was?

He'd throw it all on Peter.]

More on the way through to Texas. Honestly, though, compared to where I'm from? Kansas is nice. People could lead a decent, honest life there.

[because fuck Gotham]

Where are you from?

[ the question, obviously, isn’t about where jason is from so much as it is about why he’s implying that people can’t lead a ‘decent, honest life’ there. peter’s not sure he’s ever been somewhere so irredeemable that he can’t imagine making a statement so absolute — people are people and whilst there are good people and there are bad people, there’s very little, he thinks, in the way of true black and white; very few people he’d class as utterly beyond hope — hell, even otto had surprised him, even if there’s still a (somewhat larger than he’d admit) part of him that’s waiting for the other shoe to drop and otto to return to a life of villainy. if and until that day, he’s an example of what is possible with a bit of cautious, careful optimism (and the right set of circumstances.) ]

—You think the people are that different there?

Gotham? Yeah. Gotham’s... like a roadmark somewhere on the way to hell. The only people who live there are the people who can’t leave, the people who take advantage of those people, or the maniacs that want to watch the world fucking burn.

[his comment only grows more bitter as he says it, with something like resentment and sorrow. He knows that his city can put on a pretty face under the right light and at the right angle.

But it’s a lie. There’s almost nothing left to save, and he doesn’t know why he keeps trying.]

[ there's a silence whilst peter digests jason's answer — there's that 'alternate earths' thing, the one where 'gotham' manages to mean not a single thing to peter. can't leave is broad and manages to cover people who can't due to circumstance as well as those who think they can't, but in reality won't. ] So which one are you? [ levilly; if he had to guess, the former, but he won't deny he's curious about how jason would answer. ]

The rare idiot who left and then came back.

[it's an honest answer.]

—New York. [ beat. ] Queens. [ it's the answer to a question jason hasn't asked, but it feels fair to offer given jason's answer; it wasn't the response peter had expected and honestly, it says something about jason that it is the answer he gives, although quite what, it's a little too early to say. ] Home is home, right? [ as, though utterly unfathomable, apparently there are people who dislike new york. (shocking.)

but anyway: the closest thing they have to fast food is right here, meaning: ] —So what flavour are you going to start with?

[Ah, New York.]

Been there a couple of times. Just passing through, though.

[it's on the way, if you want it to be, and have a need of some good pizza. he'd give New York that one. But now, the flavors of ice cream.]

Honestly, since you mentioned it... How about the sriracha?

I've been here a month. [ give or take — frankly, peter's not entirely convinced the planet (or wherever) runs on the same calendar as earth, but it's a convenient, easy point of reference. ] You can keep the sriracha; the strawberry pistachio's calling my name.

[ the make-shift balloons, too — they're a little sad (scratch that, very sad), but there's something strangely adorable about something trying so very hard to make a town as utterly desolate as beacon more hospitable. ]

No sense of adventure, huh?

[at least... when it comes to food, huh, peter? he can keep his balloons and his safe flavor. jason wants to live on the wild side a little bit.]

Guess that tracks with New Yorkers and food, based off every conversation I've managed to have.

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