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Post by Conner Kent on Aug 7, 2020 13:50:32 GMT -5
Participants: Conner Kent and Tim Drake-Wayne Open/Closed: Closed Location(s): Gotham City Time of Day: 11:00 PM Weather: Clear Summary: Boredom breeds impulsive trip breeds pestering a bestie breeds helping that bestie, maybe? ...
Hovering high in the sky, Conner wondered if this was a good idea or if he should just skip it. But in that kind of way where his mind was made up and even if he rationally decided he should skip it, he wasn't going to. Besides, it had historically never been a bad idea to drop in on his friends. Especially if they had no idea he was coming, because it was more fun. Not that he had planned this that far in advance.
Conner had been in San Francisco, in civilian clothes, walking a mall out of boredom, when he saw a Robin T-shirt. But not the red-and-yellow-and-green that went with most of them. No, this was specifically the red-and-black-and-yellow combo that only one Robin had used - that he could remember. Not like he was an expert. Seeing it had made a pang twist like an ice pick in his heart, though, and immediately his mind was made up: he was going to see Tim.
Gotham stretched out below him, dirty, smog-choked, angry spires under-lit by traffic lights and neon signs. Not for the first time Conner couldn't help but compare it to Metropolis. It was like Superman's protectorate was an idyllic, living creature at the height of its life, while Gotham was a diseased corpse twitching as nerves still died off. Superboy wrinkled his nose at the thought and shook it aside. Instead of dwelling on how creepy and grim the city was, he bent his super-senses out on it, honing in on a particular heartbeat. Once his mind was put to it, Conner's furrowed expression smoothed into a satisfied one in seconds.
"Gotcha," he muttered, and was gone in a stripe of color.
- - - - -
"I thought when I decided to swing by unannounced I'd find you busting bad guys's heads together," Conner observed, disappointed. He hovered in the air behind Tim's back at the long table he was sat at, papers and computers and holographic projectors cluttering the space on and above the tabletop. Flying inside Tim's apartment was easy, what with the forty-foot ceilings in places.
Superboy's arms were crossed over his chest and he narrowed his eyes, looking through Tim at the spread of docs he was studying. "Not... Prepping for a Wayne Enterprises board meeting?" Conner hovered down, pivoting, until he sat perched on the table at Tim's elbow, looking with half-lidded, dry eyes at the other young man. "That's, like... Equal parts impressive and boring." Superboy glanced around the lavish apartment idly, weighing one against the other.
Tim Drake-Wayne
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Aug 17, 2020 16:07:46 GMT -5
Not many people could surprise him which was something Tim admittedly prided himself on. It was something he had in common with Bruce. And besides, usually he was doing the surprising - or rather attempting to. And it wasn't every day that he got startled. But there he was, sat at his table with papers in hand and quite focused on reading the contents to the point of memorization, that he hadn't heard Conner enter the building and certainly hadn't heard him fly so close. He startled at the sudden sound of Conner's voice behind him, managing to not let a noise escape but also not managing to keep a hold on the papers which float to the table the second they were out of his hands.
He swiveled in his seat, face hot with embarrassment, to shoot a chastising look at his best friend. He was fairly certain that Conner hadn't forgotten that despite his young age, Bruce had left him as Wayne Enterprise's CEO. That meant he had CEO work to do like board meetings. Because of his young age - and he had dropped out of school but details - he felt like he was constantly having to prove himself to the board members. Memorizing all the material and being as know-it-all as he could seemed to help him earn their respect and trust at least temporarily. He knew there were still a few that wondered why Bruce hadn't stepped back in as CEO yet. Admittedly some days Tim found himself wondering the same thing.
He arched an eyebrow as Conner perched himself on the table, his legs close enough to Tim that the thought of resting his head down on the other man's knee and closing his eyes to get some rest was very tempting. But he knew Conner well enough to know if he actually fell asleep with his head in Conner's lap, he wouldn't ever live it down. No that was more something to do with Stephanie or Cassie out of his friends, they'd be more likely to let him keep his pride. He settled for downing the rest of his coffee - Why sleep when he could just drink more caffeine? - which was in his black Superboy mug. He should've picked the purple Batgirl mug. Conner was well aware of his collection of mugs inspired by the various fellow heroes he cared about but Tim was also well aware that if Conner was in a teasing mood, the mug would get picked on soon.
He set the mug down casually as if he wasn't aware that Superboy was right there with him.
"If you came announced, I could've told you I was busy," he stated not unkindly but just matter-of-factly. He always enjoyed Conner's company and had probably even been a bit clingy with his best friend after he'd come back from the dead. He didn't think anyone could blame him for that last part though. He sighed and leaned back in his chair, head tilting back and hand instinctively reaching for his mug only to remember he'd just finished the coffee in it and settle for tapping his fingers against the table instead.
"I've been going over this since breakfast," he admitted, eyebrows slightly raised as he looked over at Conner. "I'd say it's more boring than impressive." He lightly chuckled, smiling fondly at his best friend.
---
561 words Conner Kent
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Post by Conner Kent on Sept 2, 2020 12:34:52 GMT -5
"If you came announced, I could've told you I was busy."
Conner grinned, leaning back to brace his weight on one hand behind him. With the other, he reached out and plucked up the coffee mug. He wondered if Tim had forgotten whose emblem was on it, or was intentionally ignoring the fact. The thought of pointing it out cheekily crossed his mind, but Superboy opted for a more subtle approach. "Where's the fun in that?" he questioned, picking up the mug with his free hand.
He'd been planning on taking a sip, but the thing was empty. Instead, he closed one eye and stared into the black mug with the other, pursing his lips in mild annoyance. Tim had deflated a little into his chair, and when he explained how long he'd been sifting through all the documents and details on the table, Conner couldn't blame him. Tim's sharp blue eyes found his as he added that it was more on the "boring" than "impressive" sides.
"Yeah, you're right," Conner said nonchalantly, putting the mug back down and looking at Tim with half-lidded, teasing eyes. "Which is why it's a good thing I came. So I can rescue you." Superboy knew that Tim was probably going to fight him, even if deep down they both knew that a) Red Robin didn't actually want to resist and b) Conner was going to win the debate either way. So he slid off the table, onto his feet and was around Tim's chair, pulling it away from the table almost as soon as he finished talking.
"You don't have a say in this, bud," he said with faked regret, turning the chair to make Tim face him. "The only thing you get to decide is what kind of un-boring thing we do." Conner reached out a hand, grabbed Red Robin's forearm and gently pulled the other young man to his feet. Staring down the some odd inches in height difference, Conner gestured to himself and then Tim's outfits as he said, "Super, or civvy?"
Tim Drake-Wayne
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Sept 28, 2020 2:35:56 GMT -5
Tim felt his face growing hot again when Conner picked up the mug - of course he'd noticed, he was Superboy after all - but quickly settled into that poker face he'd learned from Bruce. If it was good enough to fool Ra's al Ghul then perhaps it could fool Conner Kent. Except Conner Kent knew him better. Still he did his best to mask any embarrassment he might've felt over Conner catching him using his Superboy mug. Would he have been this embarrassed if Stephanie had seen him with his purple Batgirl mug? Yes, yes he would've.
He quirked an eyebrow as Conner looked into the mug, wondering if his examination of it was meant to chastise how much coffee they both knew the vigilante drank. It was always somehow both never enough and far too much. He thought about getting more, hand instinctively reaching for the mug's handle the second Conner set it down. His fingers paused, though, brushing against the handle, attention fully on his best friend at the mention of rescuing him.
Tim's face set into a stubborn pout. "I don't need rescuing-" he started, only to get cut off by the sudden sensation of his chair being pulled back and knowing quite well that if Conner wanted to, he could just easily scoop him out of the chair. He didn't entirely mind. He wanted a break from this work - Oh how he wished it could finish itself - but it was still important and if he couldn't finish it in time, it risked reflecting poorly on him as CEO.
That and Conner telling him he didn't have a say in it only made Tim want to get more stubborn. He swatted at Conner's hand though couldn't, and didn't, do much to actually stop him from being pulled out of his chair. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"I have work, Kon," he pointed out, "Boring but important work." He didn't, couldn't, say he wanted to stay home and do said work because that would have been a lie. "Besides," he added, arching an eyebrow and looking Conner up and down with a smirk. "Did you even bring civvies?" He reached behind him and grabbed the mug, walking around Conner to head toward the kitchen, glancing over his shoulder to add, "Unless you want to walk around in your Wonder Girl underwear."
He made it to the kitchen and poured more coffee into the mug. He was going to have bags under his eyes tomorrow most likely but surely if he barely slept enough times, his body would eventually adjust right?
He set the mug down and looked over his shoulder at the table, the paperwork, and then Conner. He looked back down at the mug. He groaned. He really didn't want to do anymore paperwork.
"Fine," he lamented, "I'll go get changed." Not without downing the coffee first, of course.
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484 words Conner Kent
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Post by Conner Kent on Sept 28, 2020 12:04:41 GMT -5
That look. The one right there. The dry, half-lidded glare that said "really?" and "grow up" and "ugh" and at least twenty other little things. Conner lived to pull that look out of Tim. It was a very unique and special kind of accomplishment, and no matter how frequent he managed it, it was always like a prize. A very satisfying prize.
Tim ran a hand through his hair and grumbled something about "important work." Superboy tipped his head back and let out a soft, single laugh. "It's funny you think you have a choice in this," he grinned back at Red Robin, blue eyes sparkling slyly. They both knew he didn't. Conner thought Tim just liked to kick up a fuss to soothe his conscience. Easier to blame Superboy on dodging work, say he tried to resist. Conner didn't mind being the scapegoat, either.
Conner's look of superiority faltered when Tim asked if he brought a civilian change of clothes. He opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't find the words, and then Tim pushed past him to stalk toward the kitchen. Superboy could dart back to Metropolis to grab some. It'd only take a minute (literally). He thought to mention he could just bum some clothes off of Tim, but he doubted any of the much slimmer, smaller young man's wardrobe would actually stretch across his shoulders, chest, or thighs.
"Unless you want to walk around in your Wonder Girl underwear."
Superboy finally turned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Okay, rude," he grumped. Then his eyes sparked, latching onto a thought. "And who bought me those?" He held up one hand, cupping the back of his ear as if waiting to hear the answer. Sure, it'd been a joke, mostly, but the answer was standing right in front of him, pouring coffee.
He could practically feel Tim cracking. He watched Red Robin's gaze flick from one thing to the other - Conner, the paperwork, his coffee and back again. Then came the groan. The groan was as good as waving a white flag of surrender. Superboy smiled broadly even before Tim said he'd go get changed. "Hell, yeah!" Conner covered the distance between them in a blur of color, grabbed the coffee mug and half-drained it in one go. He handed it back to Tim.
"While you do that, I'm gonna snoop." He laced his fingers and stretched them, palms forward, preparatorily. Before Tim could even leave the kitchen, Conner started making good on that promise, opening cupboards and drawers at random and looking through their contents. It was only a beat after Tim actually disappeared to suit up that Conner paused, peering through the fridge. He popped his head up, staring confusedly over the open door, forehead creased. "Wait... How'd he know which undies I'm wearing?" he asked the empty kitchen.
Tim Drake-Wayne
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Nov 19, 2020 15:47:06 GMT -5
Tim almost choked on his coffee when Conner reminded him who had bought him the Wonder Girl underwear. He coughed and set the mug down, looking down to make sure nothing had spilled onto his shirt. Thankfully it hadn't.
"It was a joke gift," he grumbled back, fully aware that Conner's hearing meant he'd catch the words. He'd just picked the mug back up because honestly he needed the caffeine when Conner was suddenly right there, snatching the mug and draining the rest of the coffee.
Tim looked from the now empty mug to Conner and then back at the mug. He was half tempted to tell his best friend to use that handy heat vision of his to heat him up a new batch. He had a feeling Conner would just drink that too.
He sighed and set the mug down, sliding it over to where Conner was already rummaging through his belongings. "You finish it, you clean it," he said with the barest hint of a teasing edge to his voice and an eyebrow cocked. He didn't know what Conner was hoping to find in the kitchen but he figured he was probably just bored and needing something to do while he waited. After Tim couldn't get changed as fast as the other young man could.
He shook his head, a faint amused smile on his face, before pushing off from the counter and making his way down to his own personal Batcave - Robin Cave? Getting into his Red Robin costume was quick by non-Kryptonian standards. It was all instinct by now, checking to make sure he had all the gadgets needed and then checking to make sure his bike was ready to go because he couldn't fly.
"You coming down or what?" he spoke aloud, knowing Conner could hear him, a smirk on his lips. The thought of going on patrol instead of slaving over that paperwork was exciting. The thought of going on patrol with Conner was exhilarating.
Conner had been back alive for a good amount of time now but the thrill of having him back, having him there and alive, occasionally popped back up. It happened with Bart sometimes too as well as Bruce, even though Bruce hadn't ever actually died. He knew they were all back, they were all alive and as well as one could be in their line of work. But occasionally it hit him fresh and he had to hold his hand back from clinging, fearing they'd be snatched away again.
He thought he heard Conner arriving and pulled his cowl up, casting a glance in the direction of his best friend. "Alright - What's the plan?"
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446 words Conner Kent
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Post by Conner Kent on Dec 11, 2020 12:20:09 GMT -5
Conner frowned at the orderliness of the fridge's shelves and shut the door. He moved to the next drawer, then the next. He'd expected them either to be barren or... well, what they ended up being. Perfectly arranged utensils, lined up and fitted with the care of a surgeon's instruments. But impersonal. Conner wondered if Tim had even touched half of them.
The clinical atmosphere that Superboy found as he scraped further and further beneath the surface kept his frown in place. He was used to Tim's sort of organization, his room at the Tower having always been as structured and annoyingly maintained as his utility belt. This was different, though. Colder. Conner didn't know why it was bothering him. Tim probably didn't spend much time at all in this place, really.
Still, Conner couldn't shake the picture of Tim moving from room to room by himself and it made his chest feel tight. He mulled over that image and the emotions that came with it, like testing a bruise, while he stood at the sink and washed the coffee cup he'd drained. By the time Conner had finished drying it and putting it in place - easy enough to find: it was the only empty spot in the cabinet lined with other mugs - he heard Tim's call.
Half a second later, Superboy appeared on the central platform of Red Robin's underground lair, blue eyes wide, arms hanging limply by his sides. He let out a low, impressed whistle, looking over the surroundings. "Dude," he murmured. "Wait," he said, cunning sparking across his face again, turning to smirk at Tim dangerously, "is this your Nest?" His eyes glittered.
"All right - What's the plan?"
Superboy laughed. "I already finished my plan. Crash your night and make you do something fun. You're the host, right?" Conner bounded over, hopped up, and landed on the seat of Red Robin's hi-tech bike behind him. He pointed exaggeratedly over Tim's shoulder toward the dark tunnel he figured had to be the Nest's exit. "Mush!"
Tim Drake-Wayne
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Feb 27, 2021 1:38:08 GMT -5
Tim couldn't help smirking at the way Conner seemed to be impressed with his own personal Nest. He'd never, ever admit it - least of all to Conner - but there was no denying the warmth that brought to his chest. He thrived off the approval of those he cared about, whether that was Bruce, Dick, Steph, or even Conner. That smirk quickly turned, however, to eyes narrowed behind his cowl when he saw Conner's own smirk. Oh no. That smirk often led to trouble. The look in his eyes practically promised trouble.
Tim sighed as he swung his leg over and got on his bike, saying, "Whatever you're thinking - Please don't do it." At least it was Conner in the Nest, he told himself, rather than Bart. Conner was more likely to listen to him - not always but far more likely than Bart ever was. He playfully rolled his eyes at Conner's laugh and insistence that he was in charge of the plan now. He opened his mouth to argue when there was suddenly far more weight on his bike than there should've been and Conner's hand right by his eye, finger pointing forward.
"You can fly!" he pointed out, pushing his elbow back where he easily assumed Conner's ribs were even though he knew that wouldn't do anything. There was a hint of laughter to his voice, though. There certainly wasn't as much room on this bike as there had been back with the Supercycle. "Fine," he sighed without any argument or justification from Conner needed. Flying could still be tiring, draining even - He knew that because he knew plenty of fliers, even if he couldn't fly himself. And Conner had already flown all the way here from... Wherever he'd been - Smallville, Metropolis, Titans' Tower, there were plenty of options.
And while his best friend didn't seem all that tired - He seemed the exact opposite, frankly - it would still be the responsible thing to do to insist Conner conserve as much of his strength as he could. This was Gotham and despite how well Tim knew this city, he knew that part of preparing for any situation was to expect the unexpected. And even if Conner was back, he was there, he was alive, the memories of a time where he hadn't been... Well they weren't going from Tim's mind anytime soon.
"Hold on," he said instead of insisting the other man get off the bike. Whether to him or the bike, he didn't think to elaborate, instead pressing a button that opened a tunnel that would take them discreetly to the city streets. Despite the fact that the plan was now apparently up to him, he didn't really have much of one. There were names on his list they could go after - There were always names on his list that needed to be checked off - but it didn't feel right. He quietly glanced over his shoulder at Conner, thoughts unsaid but seemingly spoken at the same time.
How long had it been since they'd just had fun? He looked away and turned the bike on, revving the engine. What was something fun they could do? Well it was obvious because it was the thing the logical part of his brain was telling him to avoid. He knew he should have asked Conner for help with his list or perhaps a case he'd been working on lately. But that didn't feel like something for them - Something for him to do with Conner. He pushed down on the gas and took off into the tunnel. What were Superboy and Red Robin going to do? Why they were going to look for trouble.
If they couldn't find any? They might just have to make some themselves.
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624 words Conner Kent
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Post by Conner Kent on Mar 25, 2021 13:12:54 GMT -5
"You can fly!"
Conner didn't even try to hide his amusement, or pretend like the words he answered with were at all believable. "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked cheekily. Tim groaned, which meant Conner had won (again). "Hold on," came next and Conner's wide grin shrunk a bit, but had no chance in hell of going away.
"Aye aye, cap'n," he said. Riding the bike with Tim was totally unnecessary, which is what made it so fun to insist on. Carrying out Red Robin's next words literally was even more so. The kind of strength in Conner's limbs meant he could keep a healthy grip on the seat of the bike with his thighs in a hurricane. But the goal of the evening was to pester Tim - erm, make that "help Tim loosen up" - as much as he could. So, naturally, the only choice available to him was the most obnoxious.
Conner leaned forward, wrapped his arms around Tim's thin torso, and rested his stubbled chin on the guy's cape-clad shoulder. The hi-tech motorcycle under them both purred to life. Hardly without any measurable sound, even, compared to pedestrian versions. That was Bat-stuff for you, though. Tim shot a measuring look back at Conner, and he countered it with a wink.
The Nest blurred around them, then shadow, then light as the bike nimbly popped out of some secret entrance and onto a deserted Gotham backstreet. The stench of the city flooded Conner's nose, but he sifted through it, honing in on the familiar scent of the advanced textiles of Red Robin's suit and, beneath them, the even more familiar scent of the man wearing them.
"Metropolis smells, like, way better," he said, loud enough to be heard by his chauffeur. "Not that it's a competition or anything. But if it was..."
Tim Drake-Wayne
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Apr 27, 2021 23:34:39 GMT -5
The hold on comment had been merely out of habit because logically he knew Conner didn't need to hold on and if he did fall off, he'd be fine. Tim hadn't actually fully registered that he'd said it until Conner's arms were firmly around and his heart did something weird yet familiar in his chest, something he was far too aware that Conner probably heard. If Conner didn't bring it up, though, that meant he didn't have to address it and frankly he didn't want to address it. It needed to be dissected first, alone by himself, before he even considered addressing it.
He heard Conner's comment about the smell in his ear and rolled his eyes, lightly shaking his head. "Could've invited me to Metropolis," he threw back, not that would've been quite as successful with getting him out of the house unless Conner had decided to actually kidnap him. Though he wouldn't have put kidnapping him past Conner. Besides, though, Metropolis' would've technically been Conner's territory. Gotham was Tim's. Which meant the Clone Boy was more likely to defer to him for plans rather than leaping headfirst into danger, though he probably knew the vigilante well enough that he could get away with that, easily guessing what Tim would plan or do.
Tim steered the bike onto the street, darting out in front of traffic with only a few cars honking because if you lived in Gotham, you were bound to get used to things like that. With one hand he quickly flipped the police scanner on. He technically didn't need it. He had Lonnie to alert him and, well, Conner's hearing, but it didn't hurt. In fact it wasn't long until a message appeared on the cycle's screen.
Robbery turned hostage. Gotham bank. He knew where to go. He had these streets memorized. GCPD cruisers surrounded the front of the bank. He pulled into the back, parking, the cycle automatically locking so no one but him could use it. He moved as if to pry Conner's hands off him but instead his heart did that thing again at the realization of how close they really were and his gloved hands simply rested against Conner's. The moment was brief but long enough that he knew his best friend would notice. Face hot, he pulled his own hands away and avoided looking at either of his shoulders which Conner might peer over.
"You can let go now," he said far more awkwardly than he wanted to. He cleared his throat, reaching for his grappling hook. "There's a hostage situation inside. We should enter from the roof." Mainly because that gave him the best advantage to assess the situation before risking endangering the hostages. As soon as his torso was free, he shot the grappling hook out, propelling him to the roof.
He put the grappling hook back to his belt and gestured for Conner to take care of their way into the vents - discreetly hopefully. What? Having Conner take care of it was faster. Once that was done, he moved to go in first. Conner may have had super-hearing and x-ray vision and... Okay, a lot of usual powers but Tim still knew Gotham and its buildings. He'd been to this bank plenty times before both as Tim Drake, Robin, and now Red Robin. He knew the layout. He grunted as he shimmied into the vent - this had been much easier as Robin and crawled enough to allow Conner plenty of room to crawl in behind him.
In the back of his head, he really hoped the bank had kept updated the vents and that these weren't the same ones he'd crawled in before as Robin. The older they got, the bigger the chance of them breaking and thus depositing the two heroes to the floor and that wasn't ideal at all. At least for one of them, specifically the one who couldn't fly.
Him. It wasn't ideal for him.
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661 words Conner Kent
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