( The fastest way to get answers is the street. Sure there's the helpers at the safe house - not that he'd admit it but he's really missing Bruce's safe house right this minute - but that's going to be sanitized answers. He wants more truth than that.
A few days out and about with identification and some serious cyber work that he never imagined having himself and the search leads Dick to a festival to celebrate... a billion deaths. That's the part he picks up while playing along.
Which includes some actual play, if only that he really wants to check out the hoverblades. He gives a wave as someone goes by, trying to wave someone down to give him some competition. )
Come on. Can't go too bad, right?
( escape plan )
( In the end, birds are always birds, so despite the festival Dick finds himself in parts of town that he's probably best ignoring. If he was anyone else.
While he's training and years of practice do him well, he ends up finding himself surrounded by a handful of goons while trailing them stalking another person. )
Guess some things don't change.
( No matter the world he's on, it's all the same and so when the first of them come up behind him with a length of pipe, Dick just shrugs... and slams his fist back into his nose.
Snatching up the pipe he swings it into the ribs of another, slamming his foot into another's gut. It doesn't take long before they're down and he looks to the person they had been making a move on as he drops the pipe with a clatter of steel on concrete. )
We might wanna go.
( ringside )
( He hadn't come planning to fight. Not that it had stopped him when someone had shoved him into the ring. It had been fairly well matched, and even the enhancements the other had didn't stop Dick from winning.
Not that he looks much like it as he drops onto a bench ringside, taking a towel someone hands him to dab at the blood on his face. Drawing it back and frowning at all the spots of blood, how much he was cut up, he sighs, shaking his head. )
Don't happen to have a drink to go with the rag, do you?
( network | @ richard.grayson )
That's really all there is.
( Really he's just pinging the network to see what responses he gets, and from who. )
Dick Grayson | Titans
( The fastest way to get answers is the street. Sure there's the helpers at the safe house - not that he'd admit it but he's really missing Bruce's safe house right this minute - but that's going to be sanitized answers. He wants more truth than that.
A few days out and about with identification and some serious cyber work that he never imagined having himself and the search leads Dick to a festival to celebrate... a billion deaths. That's the part he picks up while playing along.
Which includes some actual play, if only that he really wants to check out the hoverblades. He gives a wave as someone goes by, trying to wave someone down to give him some competition. )
Come on. Can't go too bad, right?
( escape plan )
( In the end, birds are always birds, so despite the festival Dick finds himself in parts of town that he's probably best ignoring. If he was anyone else.
While he's training and years of practice do him well, he ends up finding himself surrounded by a handful of goons while trailing them stalking another person. )
Guess some things don't change.
( No matter the world he's on, it's all the same and so when the first of them come up behind him with a length of pipe, Dick just shrugs... and slams his fist back into his nose.
Snatching up the pipe he swings it into the ribs of another, slamming his foot into another's gut. It doesn't take long before they're down and he looks to the person they had been making a move on as he drops the pipe with a clatter of steel on concrete. )
We might wanna go.
( ringside )
( He hadn't come planning to fight. Not that it had stopped him when someone had shoved him into the ring. It had been fairly well matched, and even the enhancements the other had didn't stop Dick from winning.
Not that he looks much like it as he drops onto a bench ringside, taking a towel someone hands him to dab at the blood on his face. Drawing it back and frowning at all the spots of blood, how much he was cut up, he sighs, shaking his head. )
Don't happen to have a drink to go with the rag, do you?
( network | @ richard.grayson )
That's really all there is.
( Really he's just pinging the network to see what responses he gets, and from who. )