keet "QUIT ACCUSING ME" yeehawson (
marmoron) wrote in
apocalypsehowcomm2021-08-13 04:40 pm
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Entry tags:
[LOG] closed
Who: Keith (
marmoron) & Others!
When: Ongoing
Where: Everywhere
Summary: A catch-all log for where I post closed starters!
Warnings: Individual threads will be labelled with appropriate warnings.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
When: Ongoing
Where: Everywhere
Summary: A catch-all log for where I post closed starters!
Warnings: Individual threads will be labelled with appropriate warnings.
> Tim Drake (@ployboy) // August Event: Silver Ghost
his next move is practically reflex. keith immediately starts grabbing at the pieces of his paladin armor and puts them on. he doesn't know what help he'll be in a fight without the red lion if the galra have inexplicably turned up, but as he makes it outside the pieces start falling into place to paint a very different conclusion.
everywhere he looks, ther are massive columns of fire, burning and setting buildings ablaze like a scene right out of dante's inferno, down to the ragged screams of those roasting alive. heart racing, keith suddenly feels sick -- sicker, as the screams go unanswered. his eyes dart around, left to right, staring in horror as the adi security guard glances at the desolation, apparently completely indifferent to the suffering.
inexplicably angered, keith barely manages to catch himself by turning to a fellow other-worlder who's come out to figure out what the fuck is happening. keith runs over, recognizing tim from briefings the adi have given, but even if they haven't spoken much before this is hardly the time for pleasantries. ]
You can see all this right? [ he gestures at the chaos around them. ] We have to help.
no subject
it sounds incredibly aggravating, doesn't it? Really petty, really selfish, so hilariously out of touch. But it's not. There's been a month of hearing night terrors through shared walls, of knowing bodies aren't always made for the trauma they're relentlessly put through-- and it's for nothing. There is nothing to show for the damn month it's already been.
Nothing showing or reflecting any sort of recognition or acknowledgement, not even in the eyes of the guards Tim had seen an hour prior. They still just sit there in their chairs, chatting lazily like there's no hellfire in the city ahead of them.
Someone's head is wrong.
Someone is wrong.
It's not him, Tim thinks fleetingly, eyes catching up to-- oh god he forgot the guy's name--]
Let's go.
[Standing around is feeding into that inferno of feeling wrong, fake, imagined, something. It's frustrating. But god damn if Tim doesn't know the sounds of death. That's real. It is real. He can't not break into a sprint. There's got to be something more worth doing up ahead, in the fires.]
cw: mention of burning to death
when sendak's drones had set the arusian village ablaze, there'd been panicking there. lots of screaming too, but this is different. who knew there were different aural qualities to screaming when it's not just brought on by terror, but the agony of being burnt alive? it makes some sickening sense if keith thinks about it, but it's not a conclusion he wanted to reach nor is this any kind of screaming that he wanted to hear. there's only so much plastering a pretty phrase like died a real hero can do to stave off a more nauseating picture of the way your dad actually died.
but one way or another, it doesn't matter. unlike the indifferent guards, this guy sees what keith is seeing, hearing and smelling and that's more than enough reason not to question what's happening anymore. as tim takes off, so does keith towards the city at large, which is now cast in a smoldering orange, red light from the fire. the air gets hotter around them as they sprint on the walkway leading into town. ]
The hell do you think is going on?
[ he shouts over as they run. once again, keith scans the sky looking for some tell tale sign of a galra cruiser that just isn't there. ]
Have you ever seen anything that can set an entire city on fire?
no subject
So Tim's body has done this thing where alarm and hurt and raw agony is seamlessly replaced by a gray sort of understanding to just keep moving. Gotham City made for good practice. He's sparing his companion a glance, mind learning that there's no smoke making the air thick and lodging the taste of tar in his throat
(he can smell the people dying as clearly as he can hear them; this is likely how Armstrong's-- no)]
No.
[Bludhaven, a literal crater in the ground. Over a hundred--
See, it needs to become routine and a person needs to able to absorb it all. And not be affected. Not in the field. There's heat and fire crackling like a joker laughing at the uselessness of a single drop of water.
There's a lot of screaming. There's the residential community of the coast city just up ahead. And there's no lights flickering on-off, no blown transformers.]
It didn't sound like an explosion, I didn't hear any artillery overhead.
[--what he had heard, prior to the wailing now assaulting his ears and making his ever nerve burn-- he can't-- remember. Wind knocked sufficiently out of his lungs, Tim's next words are barely a whisper.]
No one's running.
no subject
all of tese considerations should really get keith to stop running to re-evaluate. for better or for worse though, it doesn't. not when there's screaming so thick with pain that it wraps around his chest like a vice. ]
I know -- [ the words are forced, but not yelled. ] And I don't know why, but there are people dying, we have to keep going.
[ and as if to reinforce his point, keith picks up speed down to the nearest apartment block. the building's three storeys high and ablaze with tall flames. but it's oddly peaceful too, nobody outside, no fire brigade.... just this thick aura of pain and suffering. it's here, about a hundred yards away from the buildin'g entrance that keith finally stops and just.... stares.
not understanding. not even wholly registering that the flames seem to be blowing out, fading into nothingness. ]
I.... I don't get it. [ he walks up, pressing his palm to the brick wall. ] It's... gone?
> Jonathan Sims (@the_archivist) // August
we need to talk about the situation we're in with adi. starbucks at main/broadway. 8/20. 7PM.
[ it's far from the most secure way of handling a message like this, but like hell he was going to post about it on the network. the sound of footsteps coming down the hall makes him visibly tense however, and he only manages to relax fractionally when he sees it's not one of adi's staff. ]
Hey.
[ not that they've talked before, but he's seen the guy around at briefings. ]
Re: > Jonathan Sims (@the_archivist) // August
Hello? I don't think we've met.
[Not officially at least.]
no subject
Oh right. [ he side steps a litttle, leaning against the wall more comfortably. if any of this looks suspicious, it's because keith has never once successfully pulled off "playing it cool." ]
I'm uh.. Keith. Think I've seen you around at those meetings with Reyes. Guessing you're from another crazy reality?
no subject
Jonathan Sims. Jon.
And yes, I'm from another reality. I think everyone staying here is.
no subject
[ keith nods at that, lapsing into a briefly awkward silence. ssmall talk isn't his forte, but then again? maybe this doesn't actually have to be one of those "hi, nice to meet you" types of stilted conversations. they've all been stuck here going on two months and presumably none of them are happy about it. keith breathes out, standing up straighter. ]
Keeping us all in one place to make tracking us that much easier.
[ if there's a happy medium between small talk and straight to business, keith has clearly not found it, woops. ]
What do you think these guys are really up to?
no subject
Ah... probably planning the apocalypse?
no subject
Must've fucked you over pretty quickly.
[ ...actually that's not even funny. the lack of intel with the kelpies had been a goddamn disaster on virtually every front. he sighs, then: ]
Unless you're being completely serious. In which case, I want to know if there's any proof.
no subject
I'm not particularly trusting when it comes to organisations researching ancient supernatural forces of evil.
no subject
Can't say that I've got personal experience with that. [ but he frowns, considering. ] Though it does seem pretty fucking convenient that these missions they keep sending people on would also do a lot of fear feeding for the entities they're allegedly trying to stop.
[ a beat. ]
Not to mention I think six people so far have disappeared since the start.
no subject
[Take a group of people who don't have familiarity with the entities, and send them into danger... well, it's one way to do it.]
Six? Dead or just... gone?
no subject
Missing. [ a beat. ] Seems a bit optimistic to think they managed to find their way back to their own realitiies.
no subject
[Optimism had never helped him.]
no subject
[ no, he's not going to pry outright but.... veer towards it? yep. ]
no subject
[He holds up his burned hand. The scars have faded since he got them, but they never healed, and they still look horrible. He never quite got full feeling back either.]
Just one example.
> Tim Drake / @ployboy // December (pre-event)
better than pam, for sure, but that hadn't exactly stopped him from losing his shit with her in the clinic. sure, he can admit that was probably a dick move on his part, but he'll deal with that later. the tiktok account she'd provided was notable for that one name: griffons4ever which alone hadn't raised eyebrows, but when some coworkers in the it depaetment had cracked the source code for the worm game and the name griffmejim69 comes up?
yeah. yeah you bet that starts getting the wheels turning.
and to think tim had once dunked on him for shiro shirogane....it's after work is done for the day that keith makes his approach, cornering "james griffin" before he's able to get out of the office space. ]
Tim. You got a minute?
[ judging from keith's general demeanor it's pretty likely this is going to take quite a bit longer than a minute, but semantics. it also goes without saying that the chances of keith accepting 'no' for an answer are looking slim to none. ]
no subject
There's been a lot of... new. But ADI isn't the place to dwell on it, the electric current of the newness thrumming and singeing what's just under his skin. He's been taunted, but to let it go to his head will make him sloppy. ADI promises a solid block of hours of normalcy, even despite the budding urgency.
Because of the budding sense of urgency.
Tim clicks his monitor off, stands (he won't get caught posturing by a guy who looks like they're banking on remedial intimidation tactics), and he's shrugging on his coat when he turns to face Keith.] Yeah, sure.
[Appropriately... wary, but warm. Polite.
Office politics, right? Wayne Enterprises, eat your heart out.] What's up?
no subject
has he recovered? physically? sure. mentally? not so much. this is arguably exactly why the counseling department exists at adi, but time is short and who has time for counseling when they could be chasing down answers? in other words, tim's entirely correct in his assessment here. keith is approaching all tense, with zero patience to spare for bullshit.
the thing is though... keith thinks he's under control. thinks he's got a handle on his volatile temper. it didn't exactly feel good to make pam cry, and it's not like he wants tim to put on the waterworks either. all he wants is answers: pure and simple. ]
Listen. I'm just gonna get straight to the point. That TikTok account that Pam got the worm game from? The source code of the worm game? Both of them seem to be trying to catch the attention of someone at ADI -- a J Griffin.
[ he narrows his eyes slightly, studying tim's expression. ]
Care to explain what that's about, James?
no subject
He has the grace to not dwell on the sympathy of a few-- what, a few lost street brawls? Keith's a careful guy; there's no way he went looking for trouble, so who has has trouble with Keith? Enough to want to strangle him and want to break his wrist?
Again: totally not dwelling on that.
Tim's majority shareholder of a multi-billion dollar corporation; does this kid really think he's not used to hearing things he already knows? He listens patiently enough.] I'm aware. [The source code of the worm game? Hello, he works I.T. too. He knows. It's tricky, though, to know what only Tim Drake should. Lucky that he's got a lifetime of practice.
He furrows his brows, pinches them together just slightly. Says,] It's Tim. [His name. But Bruce isn't the only Bat who can play the part of a dumbass-] The "J" stands for Jackson. I'm no closer to figuring out who that pseudonym belongs to than anybody else here.
no subject
in a fair world you don’t enter a conversation with a conclusion already set in stone. confirmation bias is a real factor that can obfuscate getting to the truth and the truth is what matters here, not keith’s assumptions.
unfortunately for tim?
he ain’t dealing with a rational fair minded keith. not that the line the j stands for jackson would have landed well with keith even on a good day. hell, would it land with anyone? ironically, keith’s finally getting a sense of why “shiro shiogane” had sounded so ludicrous, but that’s a didactic point for later. right now? something in keith just snaps. he’s quick to grab a fistful of tim’s shirt, and shoves him back against the wall. despite his leaner build, keith is actually deceptively strong for his size. ]
You must really think i’m some kind of idiot.
[ scowl deepening, keith keeps tim pushed into the wall, grip still tight on that shirt collar. ]
Quit fucking around, Tim. What the hell are you doing flirting with avatars on the internet?
no subject
The wall triggers that need to escape- it's something hard and unfeeling and with how he's poised it uncomfortably touches on his shoulder blades. Tim makes to pull back, a grimace on his lips.]
Flirt with-- you mean the Bitmoji--?
[How Brucie Wayne hasn't gotten a bullet through his thick skull is a million dollar question for another day. There's no avatar hanging these overt threats over their heads that they can't smoke out. There isn't. But more to the point,
and said through grit teeth that may or may not be bracing for an actual hit,] Let's cool off, get some fresh air.
[-is this a Zero Tolerance workplace?]