picture prompt meme

[vahital]

the picture prompt meme

— Comment with your character and any preferences.
— Others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
— Reply to them with a setting based on the picture.
— Link to any pictures that are NSFW, please.
— Be aware that this meme will be image-heavy.

Comments

[bloodson]

"Five days. You're out of the immediate woods, but could still die." Blunt and to the point. Blood clots, fever, or one wrong cough compromising the integrity of the healing lung puncture all still pose real and very immediate threats. "No one will relocate you very far from the crash kit."

Not to mention Tim looks rough. But stubborn recognizes stubborn, and Damian offers neither assistance in sitting up nor fussing about how he really shouldn't push it. He looks away from the struggle under the guise of giving Tim some privacy, to the stack of books and other bland methods of self entertainment. "If you want something else from upstairs, I'll get it for you."

[success_story]

He sinks back into the cot as he hears no one, eyes following Damian's to the things Alfred has brought down. He only hesitates for a beat before asking for the thing that's on his mind, that has been explicitly denied him: "Do you know where my phone is?"

[bloodson]

“I didn’t notice a phone anywhere on your person when we found you.” Not that he’d spent a great deal of time looking at floors or furniture for a smartphone, a little too focused on kicking ass to play detective. “Did you take it out on your patrol?”

[success_story]

"It should have been with me." His gut twists at thinking it might be gone. He closes his eyes and counts to five against the sick feeling, explanation rattling out: "Uh--it's--encoded, it's not like anyone is getting into it.

"Even the police." Who probably have it now, if anyone cleared up the crime scene. "Did the cops clean up? Or Bruce?"

[bloodson]

"The police dealt with the rest of the building." That much he'd been able to follow before being locked out of the computer. A SWAT team had stormed the building shortly after they'd left, had scraped a good handful of Black Mask's distant lackeys off the floor, but a few more had collected their wits and fled into the night. It was a relatively small bust — they'd no doubt taken note of the blood on the floor, but hadn't heard so much as a whisper that it belonged to Red Robin.

Thinking about it makes Damian tense, grind his teeth. The diameter of that pool of blood had toed across the line from alarming to panic. Splatter from Five had probably hit the ceiling. Shoulda killed'm.

"Father was...preoccupied. Here." From the confines of his sweatshirt pocket comes whatever the latest generation of iPhone is, flop-tossed unceremoniously onto Tim's lap and Damian moves to sit in the nearby companion seat, dragging the notepad and pencils along with him. "If you've calls to make, make them before he gets home."

[success_story]

It isn't a perfect solution, but Tim seizes upon it anyway. Damian's warning instills a sense of urgency that doesn't quite make it to his clumsy fingers, but he makes quick work of finding a chat server he can use without confusing anyone over Damian's number. Sure, someone tech savvy could trace it back to Damian, but he and Damian are the tech savvy. Tanya might make the effort of finding him, but if nothing's happening, it shouldn't be an issue. 

He glances up to Damian over the composition of what amounts to an "I'm out of the office" message. "Is he ignoring you? Or just playing Stepford about the job?"

[bloodson]

He’s doodling idly, allowing Tim a sort of reserved privacy to get his dealings in order. Won’t even reverse password break that chat server later to read his messages. Probably. Between pen and paper blooms a shadowy silhouette of a pine tree, and Damian has moved onto a sketchy moon and little pencil dots of stars by the time Tim speaks again.

Not looking up, mildly smothering a snort. “I’m grounded and he’s still working, so. The ignoring is mutual.”