Practice Chat

Will

"Ace or Damian?" I joke, looking at her. I fully know she means Damian though. "funny, he feels he's watching you," I sigh, shaking my head. "But he's hell bent on staying, an extension of training by ruining my home life and disposing of my lemonade."

Chelsea
He prompts a slight smile as I cross my arms upon my knees. "I don't think he's even had lemonade before..." I murmur back to him, at a loss of some normal thing to say. "...I don't have to stay inside. I like roofs, being outside..." The ratio of nights in a bed compared to being without during my lifetime was still probably tipped towards the latter.

Will

"Well...you're welcome inside....or out...just be careful in the woods if you venture there, there are guards. I'll give you a note to show them if they try anything, to prove that I know you. The woods are nice at night, and there's the cemetery."

Chelsea
Been trained by Babs, Bats, and Tim... I honestly doubted a guard would be able to find me in some dark woods with how I moved. But I give a nod, keeping my silence in - at least to me - the awkward moment. Though I haven't been particularly good at staying quiet either. "...You're easy to forgive me," I mutter under my breath, my arms re-positioning themselves unconsciously to allow me back into my habit of fidgeting in displacement - the defense of redirecting emotions to a substitute target. My torn up cuticles and nails told that story rather well...

Will

"You're not one of my biggest worries right now, Brat Boy is," I mutter, sighing and resting my forehead on my knees. Just what I needed right now....more worries and problems to add to my heaping supply.

Chelsea
But maybe I should be. When I didn't follow the oath that Damian had taken to earn a fraction more of Baty's trust. When I didn't always play by the rules of the nice guys. I gave people nightmares...

I stay quiet though, just looking down at my warring fingers. If I could whisk away Damian liked I whisked away anxiety, I would do so. Breathing in his worries and taking away his fear was all I could do as I sighed out once again. "He'll be alright with me around... He doesn't like to mess up with me watching, because I can tell how much more it affects him."

Will

"I don't like to either, but I'm sure you know that," I mutter, resting my head on my hand as I watch Ace lay in the grass. I always wanted a dog...they seemed like good company...course father never allowed one.

Chelsea
Just hate me... Hate would be so much more easier to deal with than feeling like I messed up but don't care about it. Second guessing myself and how I should act is the worst... "No, I don't imagine it's like him..." Everything built in him until something snapped. The knowledge that I had a key into his thoughts completely ate at his consciousness, the growing fear that I would judge him as weak and unworthy. That I would cause his downfall and failure, that I would be the one to ruin his position in the family... But I wasn't one to disclose such fears to someone else. ...Whatever. I fall back on being impulsive, and lean over to rest my head on his shoulder. I'd deal with whatever would come, like I've always done.

Will

"No one likes to mess up," I say, allowing her to rest her head on my shoulder. I blush slightly and glance at her. "Whats it like to have a dog?" I say, avoiding and changing topics.

Chelsea
I immediately smirk, giving a little giggle at memories that just spring up. Holding my hands out and snapping once, Ace glances over quickly at the noise and gets up, trotting over for attention. "He's my caretaker's and mine - acts as an aid for both of us, really. Since she's in a wheelchair. He's cool, for being the result of a joking jab at Damian once. He helps..."

Will

"I've never had a dog, he seems to really love you. I've always wanted one..." I say, watching Ace trott over to receive pets.

Chelsea
"Nah, he's just a gentleman's dog all trained up for politeness and assistance... A little bit of guard duty or sickin 'em here and there with some zip lining in between." I keep my smirk, pulling up all his flabbiness to make his face all wrinkly, but he never minds.

Will

I can't help but chuckle at that comment. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I glance at the new message from Father.

I will be home for dinner early tonight.

I curse under my breath, hopping to my feet. "I have to go make dinner,'" I say, looking down at her and shoving my phone in my pocket. "What do you and Damian like...?"

Chelsea
"Damian eats anything so long as he can grumble about it not being satisfactory, even if it's Alfred's meals. ...I like pasta with sauce." I stand as well, though stay on the porch step a moment. "If your father's opposed to dogs, should I take Ace back?" I ask, glancing up at him.

Will

"You don't have to, I don't mind him. I like him. Besides, he's never home anyway...he can deal with it. I sure we can get some dog food for him while he's here." I say, offering my hand for Ace to sniff in hopes of being allowed to pet him. "And do you like garlic bread? Also, meatballs and sausage or meat sauce?

Chelsea
"Garlic bread and meatballs." I step up, smiling slightly at the childishness of the meal. At least to me... It was a good average of my meals before since it was easy to make or one of the cheaper things on a menu.

Will

"Can do. Been told I'm not a bad pasta maker." I say, grinning slightly. I was a pretty good cook...had to be....since Demetrius couldn't. My brother could burn water. I open the door and hold it out for her. "want to come in?"

Chelsea
I walk in after him as he gives the invitation, glancing at him cooly. "I'm not exactly a vampire that needs an invitation every time." Despite the freak abilities and mostly being out at night. And not sleeping much, right...

I lean against the wall to unbuckle my boots, putting them off in the corner. "Bathroom? Unless your father's going to try stabbing me or something for being the tacked on babysitter, I'd like to get out of the body suit."

Will

"Upstairs, down the hall, to the left." I say, sighing. I go to the kitchen and wash my hands after petting the dog. Glancing at the clock, I realize I have enough time to make my homemade sauce. I grab a few pans and beginning preparations, fetching needed ingredients when necessary

Chelsea
I follow his directions, closing the door behind me as I take off my jacket and hang it on the little peg for towels. Normal clothes off, revealing the ol' Batgirl bodysuit with the thin yellow outline of the insignia on my chest. I turn around while pulling my hair over a shoulder to see the back in the mirror and trigger the electric non-zipper -

...Goddamn it, I swear if there are any pervy ghosts around...

That was a slight monkey wrench into my thought process. Some things better off not knowing? I can distract myself with my Lazarus Mark... Pulling my arms through the tight sleeves and shouldering off the top half, my back still struck me as eerie... All my scars from dying turned black like a tattoo in a recognizable shape of a bird. I turn away from the mirror, sitting up on the counter to get my legs free of this thing and then put my gray shorts and red tang top back on. I leave my other shirt - something for tomorrow, maybe - folding everything up and wrapping it all in my jacket before putting the bundle in the cabinet.

Redoing my ponytail, I go back downstairs to the kitchen, feeling somewhat normal...ish. I think I should wait until dinner to finalize that feeling, because Will's fears pointed fatherly in nature.

Will

I'm halfway through chopping my ingrediants when the basement door opens, and out comes my tired, older brother. He gives a small hand wave then gives a 'what's-wrong-you're-feverishly-cooking' look.

"Father's coming home for dinner and we have guests," I say chopping a bit faster now. "I suggest you go get changed."

"Does he know that we have...?"

"Yes, he invited them." I say, glancing back at him. His eyes widen in surprise and he starts heading upstairs. "I'll go get changed."

I don't know why we always dress up when father comes home, not like a full suit or anything...just dress shirt and slacks with dress shoes. We both loathe when he comes home early....but part of it is a privilege for us, I guess. Maybe we see it as a chance to impress him...and earn his praise...maybe more so me than Demetrius...there always seems to be a lot more pressure for me....

Chelsea
A new mind had me pause upstairs, a new set of forming vague fears. Downstairs, two talking. Will and someone else, though younger than a supposed father by the voice. The brother. Ugh, I feel like such a snoop...

Demetrius

I pause, spotting someone at the top of the stairs as I go up. "...Hello....My name is Demetrius, I'm Will's older brother."

Chelsea
"I know." Know, gathered...technicalities. He was also freakishly tall, and looked similar enough to Will for the conclusion to be drawn. Damian was already a hair taller than me, because the child apparently needed some other reason to talk down to me - literally this time~ Oh joy... Can't wait until he realizes it, since we were still pretty eye level to one another. I think I needed to fire my little comeback of 'I'm not small, you're just big' at nearly every person I met these days.

...Right, this was the part that I introduced myself. Now stop staring, open your mouth, play normal for a little while - Fuck, I forgot my contacts. Certainly narrows down who I am, I guess. Oops? "Chelsea Gordon."

My eyes would only lead to a rogue vigilante who sprung up in New York, though, and 'Gordon' to Babs - the paraplegic daughter of Gotham's commissioner if they so chose to look me up. Better than if I used 'Turrow', because then they'd have access to whatever criminal records I had pending on me after seven years playing villain in Gotham. And then access to the psychological evaluations from the group home, and then news of my previous powerset. Powers were a no-no and whatever, for whatever reason.

Speaking of which, perhaps I should be more careful with my thoughts...

Did I care...?

...Not really...

I hope Damian absorbed the lesson of secret identities by now...

Demetrius

I rest a hand on the railing, looking at her curiously. She had unusual eyes, red, not like any iris I had seen before. "Who're you?" I ask.