Practice Chat

Chelsea

I go along the rooftops, walking a path that Ace would be able to follow. He crossed blocks a few times, which involved going back down fire escapes and crossing the street quickly or ziplining - Ace was tolerant of the action, just not very liking of it.

At another check of the tracer, it seems like he's come to a stop at an intersection. A bus stop, most likely. I approach, leaning on the bus stop's side but not saying anything. Ace whines slightly, but sits next to me as I glance over at him.

Will

I look up, jumping slightly at the sight of Chelsea and her dog. "How did..." I start, going over possibilities of them finding me that quickly. I ran, took multiple corners, they couldn't have followed me on foot that quickly, without knowing where I was...

I stand, abruptly going over my person, checking the inside of my sleeve's, jacket, pockets, even going far enough to pull off my jacket. I find a small bug, a tracker. I glare at her, dropping it on the ground and digging the toe of my converse into it.

"I don't appreciate being tracked."

Chelsea

"Would saving time and money make it up...?" I question, never begin good with fixing the things I messed up. Partially because I never really understood what annoyed people since I just...thought differently. My head was messed up - no light way of putting it like everyone else tried to do. A fancy name like 'borderline personality disorder' didn't really change anything.

Will

"No," I snap, growing uncomfortable. "Not in the least."

I wasn't just some puzzle she could solve, I'm a person. I don't like her confronting me with all this...

....I don't like confronting myself or my fears.

Chelsea

I stand there, feeling slightly awkward and not knowing how to deal with this. "Sorry?" I didn't really mean it to be a question...well sort of...the raised tone happened at the end anyway. Again, I was apologizing for something that I wasn't regretful of. I felt he needed to hear it, and...I dunno... It was just normal for me. I glance away, tucking a stray hair away from my face. "...Should I pass future plans or something onto Robin then, or is this the end of it?" I sigh out, shifting my weight to a more comfortable position.

Will

"End of what?" I say annoyed, crossing my arms in front of my chest. I didn't like this, the informing and the not informing. And what did Damian need to know anyway...?

Chelsea

"Your arrangement. Of training," I say quietly, keeping emotion out of my voice. Back to blank, nothingness. So that these conflictions could go away. So that I could not think about how I'd most likely crack later on, because I hate these mistakes that don't make sense to me and the frustration that could amount was just overwhelming.

Will

"I'm still working with him, why wouldn't I?" I say, confused. What would this have to do with that?

I hesitate slightly, seeing the change in her attitude. I mean...she hadn't....meant to....and...well...she said she couldn't help it...

I just don't like discussing these things...

And I guess she was somewhat concerned....since she followed me.

I take a step forward towards her, hesitating before stiffly pulling her into a hug.

Chelsea

I stand there, sort of pulled up onto my toes with the hug since I was so short. ...People just liked using their height against me sometimes... But I lean into him, resting my forehead to his chest. "Just wondering if you had plans set up, since we left without saying anything," I mumble, returning the hug. This was maybe the smallest act of cheating I've done since getting involved with Tim. But he wasn't around anymore, so...it wasn't really cheating... Lets see if I wouldn't crack now. "...Thought you didn't like touching."

Will

"...you looked like you could use a hug...." I mutter, tightening my hold on her slightly. "...sorry I....I just don't like talking about that stuff, alright? I know...it's not your fault," I sigh.

Chelsea

I give a small smirk and a slight shrug. "It's sort of my job to freak people out," I say lightly. "Even Batsy sometimes... But it is my fault. So." It was my power and my words, and my inept ability to have a normal conversation most of the time...

Will

"You can't control that though..." I say, letting go of her. "It's like me, seeing dead people," I shrug, gesturing to the random ghost on the corner. "Can't help it, can't turn it off."

Chelsea

"Could just not talk about it. But that's not very fun." I glance over to the street corner he gestured to. Oh...that was a bad thing to say? I said played him for the kicks? Not simply that though, I liked talking to him. People didn't really talk to me on such an equal level.

Will

I shrug, stuffing my hands in my pockets and resiting the urge to check my jacket for new trackers. "To each it's own, I prefer not to talk about mine though, brings unwanted attention."

Chelsea
"You mean unwanted conflictions..."

...Oh. Should really start thinking before I say things. Thinking before I do a lot of things would really help sometimes, I'm sure. More mistakes, more little twinges of frustration. "...Do...D'you know Star Trek? The whole 'beam me up, Scotty' deal..?" Without much pause for his reaction, I speak off Batsy's emergency zeta transfer code, directing to his home like he wanted. It always feels horrible. Like being in the center of a lightning storm, there was just this charged feeling of being zapped and in a flash you were somewhere else.

Will

I stumble a bit, surprised to find myself home. I was used to Ghost travel, which was painless but odd....yet this...whatever the hell it was...was completely different. We're outside a tall light blue house, with a white porch. My house. I glance at her, unsure of whether or not to invite her inside. If Father was home...

But then again, he was hardly ever home.

"Thank you...would...you...uh like to come in?"

Chelsea
I take off my mask, putting it into my pocket once determining that people really wouldn't care about a secret identity or anything. And Will said they could read minds or whatever. Though I'd like someone to try and get past all my demons to my thoughts... "If my words won't be destructive or challenging to any beliefs," I say slowly, glancing over at him with a slight smirk. "There's a small problem with keeping my mouth shut and everything..."

Will

Well I wouldn't take her to the basement or the Cause. I'd just keep her faaaarrrrrr away from it. "Father most likely isn't home," is all I say. I step onto the porch, unlock the door, and open it for her. "After you."

Chelsea

I step in, silicon soled boots making absolutely no sound, but with training I'm aware of the age of the building and the possibility of creaky floor boards. Ugh, needed to relax a little; Babs had me overworked... Still, I glance around, not entirely sure where to go. ...Why then, was it so polite to have a guest walk in first if they didn't know where they were going? You had to walk around them to guide them into the right room anyway, so it didn't make much sense to me. My eyes settle back upon Will behind me expectantly.

Will

I step inside after her, closing the door. "So um, you hungry?" I ask, leading her to the kitchen. I go to the fridge and grab a pitcher of lemonade, then grab two glasses from the cabinet.

Chelsea
I go through the halls slowly, observing pictures and family photos, shaking my head once I get within the kitchen with him. "Where is your father?" I question.

Will

I hand her a glass and shrug. "At work, as usual." I say, taking a sip out of my own glass. "Why?"

Chelsea
I shrug, taking the offered glass while my eyes still wander around the kitchen. "The abilities intrigue me," I answer truthfully, my eyes finally settling on him. There wasn't much personalization here, not many pictures to glance into his life and pretty basic decor. Sort of...boring. Maybe I've been living in the Wayne Manor too long then. This was an amazing step up from my original home of various warehouses or of rich boys who had taken me home for a prize for a night.

Will

"What about them?" I ask, watching her.

Yup, far away from Father...

Far, far, FAR away...

Chelsea
My lips twitch up in amusement at his shifting anxiety with the mention as I stare down into my glass. "Just pondering. If you could perceive what I do. See what I do." I wasn't stupid. Reading people as I already do was enough to make me estranged. I've just always wondered how odd. How different my thinking was compared to a normal person, and how much of a tolerance I had to what I saw and felt.