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crushtheskulls) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2022-03-18 06:08 pm
crushtheskulls) wrote in bakerstreet2022-03-18 06:08 pm
Angst Meme
Sometimes we all want to play some angst and see just how far our characters will fall.
- Post your characters, name and series in the subject along with any preferences.
- Go to random.org and roll.
- Play!
1. just depressed.
Things are tough, you're feeling worn out, or whatever the case, you're depressed. You need help or someone else thinks you do anyway.
2. abandoned.
You were left behind by everyone you hold dear and now you're forced to see how well they've adjusted, how happy they all are while you're screaming inside.
3. sick.
Cold, flu, or something even worse, all you can do is lay back and let someone take care of you.
4. fight.
You've been fighting nonstop with the other person and it just keep escalating.
5. break up.
You're being broken up with and they won't reconsider... Damn.
6. separated.
For some reason, you've been separated from the other person for a long time.
7. kidnapped.
You've been held captive for how long now? Maybe they've been torturing you even, using your blood to write ransom notes, threatening to cut off fingers to send next, etc. Rescue is on the way though, right?
8. beaten up.
Just because someone didn't like you or maybe they wanted something you had, whatever the case is, you're coming home sporting some nasty wounds and bruises.
9. jealousy.
You just have this undeniable jealousy suddenly and you need to let it out.
10. cheated on.
This goes beyond just suspicion and you have full on proof of what your lover has done. How do you handle it?
11. apathetic.
You're not sad, you're not happy, you just... don't feel much anymore. The sparkle of life has gone right out of you and you're just going through the motions now.
12. addicted.
Drugs, alcohol, whatever your drug of choice is, you can't fight the draw and you can't draw yourself out of the hole, but the other person is going to try.
13. bad romance.
You know this isn't good for either of you, but you can't stop now.
14. fear.
Nightmares, the feeling someone is following you, etc. You can't shake the feeling.
15. insanity.
You're seeing things and hearing them, waking up only to realize you've done things you don't remember or you're in a place you weren't before. You're losing it and you don't know what to do.
16. guilt.
It's eating you up inside and you have to tell someone about it now. You want to be punished and you won't take no for an answer.
17. loss
You've lost something dear to you.
18. wild card.
Combine some options or make your own!
no subject
Jason's words trail off then and he glances over his shoulder. His suit. Yeah. That's a whole thing there. A whole thing Alfred had to deal with as well.
Gloves are placed next to his mask, Bruce looking down to his belt which he slowly starts to remove a few things from. Mostly to give him something to do. A reason so as not to have to look over at that suit either. Funny, since he's the one who put it there in the first place. )
This is still your home.
( He says, head ducked some, still removing pieces. )
It always will be.
no subject
Bruce is still right where he's always been. in that chair, alone, detached. not looking. not feeling. maybe that was always Jason's problem. too much feeling.
and yet there are things that counter that idea. like the way Jason could still access the Batmobile, and how Bruce still has his suit here in the cave, and how even after all of this, when Bruce came to him tonight, all he had really asked of him was to come home. ]
I'm gonna stay in my old room. Are my clothes still there?
no subject
He reclines in the chair, head tipped back, eyes shut. Just for a moment. Long enough for him to take a breath for himself before he leans forward again and starts the slow removal of pieces and things off him. )
Yeah.
( Everything is. )
no subject
what's one more?
and along with the Batcave, with his room, with everything else that feels sickeningly nostalgic, Bruce's vacant distance feels the same too. how many times had he asked Jason to come home? now that he's here, he feels just as alone. alone, with a glass case of his failure imprinted into his mind now and his fingers itching for his drugs again. ]
Okay, well. Try not to choke on your own vomit I guess.
[goodnight? see you later? see you tomorrow? he doesn't know. he never knows. so he just turns and goes, heading up and out of the Batcave, ready to take on this towering mansion he used to call home, all alone again. ]
no subject
He just... needs a moment. Or two, apparently. One that stretches for a few hours into the night.
It's late when he makes his way down to the kitchen. Barely able to sleep, but forcing himself to when he can. The tossing and turning doesn't help, nor the fleeting, distorted images of whatever's leftover from the toxin there in his system. It makes for sleeping to be a trying time and it's why he heads down to the kitchen in the dark.
Whiskey is what he chooses to nurse his troubled sleep with. Leaning there against the counter, shirt hung open, slowly chewing on an ice cube. Thinking. Wondering just what the hell he's supposed to do now. He's supposed to know β supposed to be ahead of the curve. But he's not. When it comes to this? To Jason? He's not.
He's staring down to his glass there in his hand, single ice cube sliding to the other side of the glass as he tilts it when he looks up, catches sight of Jason wandering in, and he stares to him in silence for a long moment before letting his gaze drop.
He's bruised a little β scar here and there. Nothing new for either of them when it comes to this line of "work" of theirs. If it can even be called that; works implies you get paid.
After a moment, he lifts his glass to his lips and, before he takes a swig, he mutters. )
Can't sleep?
no subject
when he left this place, it was so abrupt. no one ever plans on dying, though. not many get to come back either, and Jason's still on the fence about that one. he had been on the edge of a roof once, ready to jump. maybe he should have stayed dead. then all those people would still be alive.
it's strange, walking through this place now. without Alfred here it seems darker, quieter, like a giant mausoleum. maybe after his death, after Alfred's, that's exactly what Bruce turned it into. and yet it still feels like home. the only one Jason's ever really had. even after all this, it makes him feel eager to be in his old room again. sleeping in his old bed, so that's finally where he goes.
except sleep doesn't come easy- it never does, but tonight feels the hardest. he can't stop thinking about Bruce, about what this is, about what this is going to turn into. when it becomes too frustrating to just lay here, he moves quietly through the manor, down to the kitchen. he remembers those times there would be a midnight snack waiting for him, instead now there's Bruce.
there's a fleeting moment where Jason thinks it might be better if he'd just turn and leave, but he's tired. he's tired of fighting and running, and letting his anger burn him up from the inside. he just wants a moment in his home to stand still and rest. ]
Can't sleep.
[he's cautious as he approaches, eyes steady on Bruce, hairs raised along his skin. very much like a feral cat testing for signs of danger. when he gets close enough, he leans against the counter, nodding his head towards the glass.]
Got another one of those?
no subject
Having him here like this β having someone else here in this place after however long it's been... it's good, isn't it? Or it should be, if things weren't as they were.
Quiet, the ice cube in his mouth crunches as he bites down on it and he sighs as he sets his glass down, hands reaching back to grip the counter behind him. )
Sure that's a good idea?
( Yet even as he asks, he reaches back around him and sets the bottle across from him on the counter. Glass to follow once he's pulled it down from the cupboard.
It's not exactly a no. )
no subject
Jason can't take his eyes off of him. ]
It's a shitty idea. That why you're doing it?
[he counters, snagging the bottle off the counter and pouring himself a glass when Bruce sets it down. they've never had a drink together. Jason was always too young. he isn't that kid anymore.]
shh, i'm here
Jason may not be able to take his eyes off him, but Bruce can't seem to bring himself to want to look to him.
But he does.
After a long moment, he looks over to him β watches the way he pours a glass for himself and he realizes how much has changed since they'd first come into each other's lives. No, Jason isn't that kid anymore and he's not sure how he feels about that. )
No.
( The word, soft. )
But maybe we both could use one.
hi hiii <3
of course it's when Jason looks away that Bruce looks at him. he pours himself a decent amount, because he needs it and because he can. ]
Yeah, no shit.
[it's lacking its usual bite. it's tired, just like the two of them are. when Jason looks at Bruce again, the older man is finally looking at him, and Jason holds his gaze.]
You hate that I'm here, don't you.
sorry it's gotta be a black heart cause batman π€
( It's quick, his reply. Honest, despite how tired he seems. How tired they both are and for so many [different] reasons. )
I think you want me to so it makes it easier when you leave.
( Because he knows Jason will. Just for tonight, isn't it? A moment needed to regroup, recharge, just go and pretend none of tonight happened for a few hours in exchange for some lousy attempt at sleep. Do either of them really sleep any more? Hard to say. Bruce has found he doesn't really sleep much or all that well since he started all this. But, then again, maybe it was a little before that, too.
Reaching over, he takes the bottle β that's all you get, kiddo β and pours himself another small glass, bottle tapping against the counter as he plucks the glass from beside it. Holds it. Stares to the rich amber colour of it. )
But I don't, no.
and red for red hood? xD β€οΈ
[he says before he takes a sip of his drink. it's good. he hasn't had anything but cheap ass shit for so long, this feels like heaven going down. maybe it's placebo but it helps calm his raw nerves just a bit too.
until Bruce brings up him leaving. his jaw clenches before he takes another longer drink.]
And what, you'd rather I stay?
[he snorts softly, but there's nothing humorous about it. as if he could ever stay after everything he's done. he doesn't think Bruce could handle that. neither could he, of course, but that's aside from what Bruce must be thinking right now.]
You'd do everything you could to barely look at me. Is it all the murder, or what?
π€β€οΈ
He takes a moment there when Jason goes and asks that, licks over his lips, lets his gaze linger there on the glass he holds between his fingers before he goes and looks back over to the other. It's what he wants, isn't it? What he thinks Bruce can't or won't do with him. )
I don't think you can.
( Stay, he means. But more that it would be too hard for Jason β that he's not ready to and Bruce can't force him to. )
You need to figure your shit out. Where you go from here. Who you want to be.
haha perfect π€β€οΈ
Bruce is stuck on how he failed Jason, but Jason knows he failed Bruce too.
and maybe it really would be easier if Bruce didn't want him here, or if he wasn't fucking right about just how much he can't really be here. he wasn't going to stay, obviously, but he hates hearing it from Bruce. it almost makes him want to stay, just to spite him. ]
I don't need you of all people to tell me that. I know what I need to do. Not what I fucking asked, though, is it.
no subject
( Echoes of things he's come to learn and will continue to learn as he grows as both Bruce and Batman. Though, no. He can't claim he's murdered others... but he can claim that maybe he's felt certain individuals deserved it. That he isn't sorry for what they got. A sickening thought, only amplified by what a certain clown claims is true.
He's not entirely wrong.
Again, he takes a sip, feeling that weight ever-so-present there on his shoulders. A glance to the other, he sets his glass down, arm coming to cross over his chest, holding his other one. )
You're a victim yourself.
this Jason's Bruce actually killed the joker but I guess we can go with not?
[he wonders just how much Bruce believes that. with all his self righteousness in tow, does he really believe he's crossed any lines?
his gaze bores into Bruce. there are clowns and scarecrows that are still alive to this day. imagine how things would be if they were dead.
he would have expected Bruce to do away with the Joker by now. for killing him. for ruining them. but maybe they were ruined long before that already. Jason is angry about that too.]
And what have you done to make that right? You say we've crossed lines but he's still alive, isn't he. Didn't matter that he took me away from you.
gently returns but also yes
So he looks up, sigh there on his lips and he looks tired. Emotionally. )
Killing him wouldn't have brought you back.
( He shakes his head, looking off. )
It wouldn't bring my parents back.
( To kill the one[s] responsible for that. But Jason had come back, though not as a direct result of killing anyone. He shouldn't have come back. Much as part of him is glad to see him alive again, he should be at peace, he thinks. Not ripped from whatever semblance of it he might have found and thrust back into the cesspool that is Gotham. That's what they can barely keep together in terms of a relationship with one another. )
You deserved better.
it's good to see you back! i was only able to handle texting last night lol
Jason knocks back the rest of his drink, then moves forward, hard look in his eyes as he grabs the bottle again. if Bruce tries to stop him, they might throw hands right here and now. ]
But it would stop them from hurting anyone else, wouldn't it.
[Jason will agree with Bruce there, though. he shouldn't have come back, and there have been so many nights since then that he's wished he was dead. dead, rather than being a victim. that's the last fucking thing he wants to be, and yet it's everything he turned himself into.]
I deserved better? What's better? What the hell is your idea of better, Bruce?