01 (mingling can't be avoided - open

[brentwood]

Who| The littlest Tim and whoever's around!
What| Arrival and curiosity.
Where| District 12 Suites, Central Commons.
When| The day of his arrival.
Warnings/Notes| Nope, none that I can think of!

It's one thing to be kidnapped-- another thing entirely to be told what he had. What an honor, what a privilege, isn't this exciting? And no, no it wasn't a bit. It had taken an immense effort to keep from decking anyone at all who was too peppy, too clean, too bubbly. Too helpful. Now herded into his suite (and whoa, not going to lie, it's a pretty sweet room), Tim finds himself pining for Alfred instead of these silent people who offer sweets and luxuries. Then he corrects himself- tells himself that even thinking such a thing might jinx this entire situation somehow and actually bring Alfred to this city. This world. Because there's no way an operation like this could go undetected by the heavy hitters back home.

There's a heavy crease in his brow, looking a little silly on a 15 year old boy. It's not until Tim steps into the bathroom (even that's way high class) that he spots himself on a mirror and notices he's downright scowling. He splashes water on his face. Tells himself to calm down, to do what he's been trained to do. Sleuth. As much as he'd like to hit something, there'd just be no point when he doesn't know how heavy the consequences will be. If everything's been running so smoothly for 70-something rounds of Death Match... it's for a reason.

Besides.

This might all be a bad dream.

He sits on the bed. Gets to work with familiarizing himself with the communication device he was so generously given. He'll bet anything in the world it's bugged.

(Floor 12)
Every adventure draws to an end, even one that had taken so little movement as his assessment of the communicator had. There's an unease with being cooped up in a strange room. A stirring that came from disorientation. Now, the sane thing would be to let the nerves settle before stepping out. He's sure he remembers how to access the concrete den he had been in before, but there's no need for that now. Turning the knob and opening the door to peek his head out, Tim makes sure to don the face of some lost kid rather than an angry one. He's even meticulously quiet about making sure the click of the closing door behind him doesn't sound louder than it needs to, and he cringes a little when he hears it anyway.

Not that he's playing a spy game with himself or anything but. But he's being obviously sneaky. He has to remind himself he's just a schoolboy, and as much as he has an urge to venture down the elevators, it's best to familiarize himself with the most immediate surroundings. It's just a very lavish hotel. That makes his skin crawl. Rounding the corners is particularly suspenseful.

(Central Commons)
Now, if the suites were eerie, the common room is just bizarre. There's the architecture and commodities just screaming for an atmosphere of relaxation. The televisions and lighting are spectacular. The chairs and couches look comfortable and inviting. The whole... mood of the place whispers playground, not slaughter. And Tim supposes that's what has him standing there, just freshly off the elevator, with a shiver running down his spine. Either he's being fantastically duped, or he really doesn't know what he's gotten himself into.

And that's terrifying all on its own.

So should he be expecting a bear to burst out of the elevator doors behind him? --Tim takes no time to step away. He even looks over his shoulder once or twice once he's moved himself more towards the center of the place without quite realizing it. Okay, Drake. Focus. It's time to make some friends. Step One: Find someone who doesn't look like they want to kill you. Should be easy, right?

Comments

[bratwonder]

Generally, Damian didn't spent too much time in the common room. It was nice to get out of his room once in a while, sure, but frankly? He didn't like most of the people here anyway, so being away from them was definitely preferable. In fact, even today, he was only just passing through the area, but the sight of a weirdly familiar face catches his attention and he decides to stick around for a while. The familiarity is suspicious, and while it could be nothing... well, it wasn't like he had anything better to to around here anyway.

So Damian pretends to busy himself with reading or watching TV or doing whatever it is that bored Tributes do around here while trying to listen in on parts of Tim's conversations. He doesn't particularly care if Tim notices him or not, because once he hears him use that name, Damian waits for a quieter moment and approaches him with a very blunt line of questioning to start.

"Who the hell are you?"

With a Barbara and a Bruce that came from completely different worlds, maybe two Tim Drakes wasn't the weirdest thing that could happen. Still, he would decide for himself whether or not he was really who he claimed to be.

[brentwood]

No, it's true. He's so far paid this kid absolutely no mind, or at least none relevant. He thought maybe for a brief moment oh, there's a kid here but he's so far learned enough that yeah, that's kind of the point. There are more interesting looking people to try to brush shoulders with, to try and exchange names and a handshake with and maybe an odd huff of laughter. But that's proving exhausting and it's really not long before Tim finds himself retreating from the crowd-- space to breathe, y'know.

But that doesn't come as he had hoped because now that kid is next to him and.

Uh. That was a little rude, huh?

"I'm Tim." Except there's no handshake or pleasant-looking confused smile on his face this time. He's just looking confused, which he's getting kind of tired of. This kid can't be older than twelve, he reasons. Is he fighting, too? Probably, if he wants to get to know the newbie. "I just got here." Well not exactly just now, but whatever. There's something in the kid that tells Tim he's seen him before. Then he quickly thinks, no duh, of course that'd happen if they'd been in the commons together.

[bratwonder]

Ugh. He's younger, but he still looks like him, still sounds like him, and that pisses off Damian way more than it reasonably should. He doesn't really doubt that he is who he is, but he still frowns.

"One of you was already more than enough," he complains, not thinking much of (or caring much about) how weird this must be for Tim. It didn't matter to him that this boy might be different from the Tim that he hated with a passion, because his name was also Tim Drake and that's all that mattered. "Do you still play Little Detective in Red back home?"

Because that's all he really cares about.

[brentwood]

It's that whiny, nasally voice. There's no escaping it now, is there, Prince?

Tim frowns when Damian does. It's reflexive, and as self-aware as he is, he's not necessarily prone to hiding everything. The first thing that comes to his mind, again, is brat. But that doesn't sit well with him and he shifts his weight to one leg to settle the bad feeling in his stomach. A kid. A really young kid, in this twisted world. Well, it's not like he had expected the people to stop breeding entirely but this was. See, there's something about the kid's face that makes it hard to look away. Might be the intensity of all the focused hate. Might be that he reminds Tim of someone he'd seen outside of this world. Someone he knows from back home.

But, gee, all that is pushed aside and he downright scowls. He's fine with being brushed off as 'another one'. Heck- that'd be easier for him! If he could go without being noticed, great!

This kid knows more than he should. And worse- he's misinformed.

"I don't play around." No. "Who are you?"

[bratwonder]

He wonders everyday why no one has done anything about that darn voice... Because clearly, it can't only be him that it bothers, right? It's okay, Damian will fix it for him sometime—

Damian can't help but feel satisfaction in Tim's annoyance, though. It was always a pretty nice feeling, really, and it was the best he could do at least until the next Arena started. Life for a tiny assassin is hard!

But as much as he enjoys Tim's frustration, Damian wants him to know who he is. He wants him to know that he doesn't like him, because even if this is technically a different person, Damian didn't think they could be that different.

"Close enough." Last time Damian described Tim's actions, he called it prancing. Playing around is totally nicer, okay. "I'm Damian Wayne. I replaced you."

[brentwood]

For a second, he thinks he can't have heard that right. Then he realizes he wouldn't know which part was heard wrong. Because suddenly it's like bricks are flying at him from every direction, or like he's about to be struck by a train-- there's no dodging it. He's just there, within hearing range, not fully comprehending what he just got slapped with but knowing that the sting is there.

Wayne. That could only mean Bruce-- and that meant that this kid wasn't messing around when he strut in. That meant... (and here's the scariest thought of the evening!) Bruce had a kid. It's not horror on Tim's face, it's disbelief! Who are you and what happened to the real world? He almost doesn't even hear that last part, but of course he knows better than to be entirely distracted by some piece of trivia.

And he's just more confused because he'd thought he'd been doing a darn good job at the Robin thing, all things considered lately. Sure, he couldn't go out so often and he could hardly ever be with the big man but--

Okay, relax.

If Bruce has a kid, this is way in the future. Considering this is real. Somebody pinch him awake already! It's kind of a big accomplishment when Tim manages to close his mouth and quit staring. Replaced. That's a hard word to choose. He can counter it with something cool himself-- a-- a snort. And a shrug. Like this is all no big deal, but nobody's going to buy into this show. "It's not like I was going to be in that suit forever."

That was the plan all along, right? So why did it hurt to say?

[bratwonder]

"Good. It's not your place."

Well. At least it seemed like Tim believed him (as he should). Or maybe he was more worried about his own position (which he should be). Tim's response, for the most part, tells Damian what he wanted to know—his name meant something to him so he definitely knows Bruce, and that along with the mention of the suit means he does indeed work with him, Robin or otherwise. This makes him feel like his hate is entirely justified.

...but the fact that Tim doesn't react more defensively is weird to him. It's probably because he's so used to butting heads with his "brother." It might not count for much, but it affects how Damian continues.

"There are more of us from Gotham besides the ones you met. I bet one of them will be really happy to see you."

[brentwood]

If only the kid was nicer, Tim would even be willing to ask questions of why. As it stands, it seems to him that keeping his emotions in check will definitely play a role in interacting with Bruce's kid-- it's like he's baiting for a fight. Well. Tim's the better guy here, and he's just not going to give in though that raised brow really isn't going anywhere.

Not even when he feels his heart do a flip in his chest and he feels all the more giddy for it. Sure, his expression softened considerably but there's still the cautious edge to his words. Kind of like worry, but too constrained to be really that. He's not even sure he should be letting the name roll off his tongue like this, but it wasn't like he was giving anybody new information. He'd seen the televisions.

"Stephanie?" Yes, no, somebody even more important?

[bratwonder]

Damian shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. If he had a better sense of empathy, he might not find this as amusing as he does, but, well. He doesn't. So there's a hint of maliciousness to what he say.

"You'll see." Oh, how he couldn't wait to see the look on the elder boy's face. His tone is not quite as cruel as he goes on, but there's still something threatening about it. "My father is here as well, but he doesn't seem to recognize any of us. Perhaps he might recognize you."

And if he does, boy, can you expect a lot more anger and bitterness coming your way from here, little Tim.

[brentwood]

There's a lot here that doesn't add up.

Bruce would recognize his own kid and everybody he'd ever met. Did the Capitol alter his mind? Was he... from earlier? Like him? --no. Bruce would recognize Steph.

"I'll keep an eye out."

He's not trying to be dismissive. But he kind of is. He hates to admit that Damian's freaking him out, more so than he already was. Information overload sucks when you don't know the source.

[bratwonder]

There's no problem with the reaction here. To him, it only further emphasizes that he has the upper hand. ...nevermind that Tim's disadvantage totally isn't his fault. It's kind of like a high school student being proud of knowing more than a middle school student. But that doesn't stop Damian from feeling smug about this. The older Tim had done nothing but get on his nerves since he arrived here, and it feels good to take it out on this kid, even if he hadn't done anything wrong.

"One more thing." And for Damian, this is the most important of all. Entirely out of bitterness. "We might wear the same colors, but we are not allies. You'd do well to remember that."