Practice Chat

Will

Father nods, "Alright then."

I grab the salad and after taking some, I pass it to Damian, who's closer to me.

Damian

I quietly take the bowl, dishing out what I wanted before passing it on. Glancing between the gathered party, I could tell this would be a fucking annoying stay. I wished to be back with father and Grayson in protecting the city... Chelsea was simply keeping her eyes down now, but I could just picture her worming her way deeper into my fears for something good to dish out if I did something wrong...

Mr. Cox

It's quiet. Too quiet. I /hate/ awkward silence.

"So, Mr. Wayne, your father expressed interest in your training sessions with my son. He also stated in his email that he hoped you might introduce William to him. William has nothing but high praise for your skills."

Damian

...I saw how it was. It was much like how Mother was in raising me, making my own beliefs and telling me what to think. "He is allowed to have whichever opinions of me he wishes. I haven't heard them," I say bluntly. "As for my father...that could be arranged..." A small shadow of a doubt passed over my face in imagining what Father's thoughts would be at my active participation in shaping a take over the world plot. My eyes wander up from my plate to Turrow, who wasn't paying attention to me at the moment but instead taking her own share of salad. Like magnets they look up to Will a quick second before I focus back down the table to Cox.

Will

I angrily stab a piece of my meatball, glaring down at my own plate as I do. First off, Father and I had never had a discussion about what I think of Damian's skills. In fact, this the most I've seen of Father this week. I bite my lip and glance at Father, who's smirking almost as if he's amused at the thought that 'I can think whatever I please'.

"Wonderful," he says.

Chelsea

This was all very splendid and apatite ruining... Have I mentioned how much I dislike being around people I haven't gotten some mental file on? Parties were always killer whenever I was needed at one because random snippets from whoever was around just loved to pop up in my mind. Oh, pay attention to me, it's not at all like I'm being distracting in the least~ Even if I was in some giant ballroom Wayne company shindig and there were maybe twenty people invited I'd still get to feeling so claustrophobic in my own mind.

Will

/I`m sorry about all this,/ I say to Chelsea in her mind quietly.

Chelsea

Fuck everything, like I needed more voices in my head! Very quickly, I didn't want to be there anymore. Coming to really hate it, in fact. And I wasn't really sure that there was a good reason for my sudden spike of anger, like usual. It just sort of happened a lot. I wasn't even sure what I wanted anymore... To just not be here would be a good start. Later tonight would be fine. Damian would be fine on his own and I could find my way back to New York or Gotham to find some sort of outlet. And I didn't really care what that might be so long as I didn't feel like this.

There was someone in my head listening to all this. Figuring out how my thoughts just spiraled away into some stupid irrational plan of action because of something so little could trigger the worst in me. So little sometimes I couldn't even find the cause. He could see through my blank, calm exterior. Watch how smooth deliberate movements of the outside were fueled by this inner chaos in a way Tim couldn't. And I thought he could take it away... Numb it down and try to close the Pandora's Box in my head. A kiss, something more, instead of something more rash...

My eyes slowly wander up from my plate to look across at Damian. "Father is rather busy with Wayne Enterprises, I'm not sure when he plans on freeing up time for a meeting," he was saying to fill the silence, but I don't really register the words. I glance over to Will, staring at him only a second before moving my chair out to stand. With barely a murmured excuse me, I go to walk down the hall to...outside? The bathroom? Get zeta beamed somewhere? I was just sort of stuck, which didn't help the claustrophobic feeling.

Will

I get up, mumbling an 'excuse me' and follow Chelsea. Quietly, I take her hand. "Wanna go take a walk?"

Chelsea

But he still doesn't get it.

I jerk away from his touch nearly the second he reaches to take my hand. Because he just didn't understand, even if he dottled in my head. Connections, spindles of relations that just form around me...a spider web trap for me. I lived with nothing for so long, a little taste of something else was so easily ripped away. Connections like chains imbedded in my flesh, and I never wanted to feel it get forcibly torn away again. Inque was always right; she talked about how it would make me weak. How it melted away my conviction to be by myself, which was the image of strength to me! Everyone had relied on someone else around me, but me, nooo... I didn't need anyone else. I never needed someone else, and ive fallen into that disgusting thought that I actually did. That it made me happier? STRONGER? How I could be more than the black soul that I was?! Get me build up that I had some sort or worth just to leave me flailing on my own again?!

YOU DIDNT EVEN WANT THAT. WHY DO YOU WANT TO TOUCH ME, DIG YOUR CHAINS INTO MY BODY JUST TO LEAVE AND TEAR THEM AWAY? LEAVE ME ALONE. Before I...

...Oh that was rich!

Slowly, I glance up at Will from my lost in thought stare at the floorboards. Telltale heart hidden beneath the floorboards... You've got some telltale thoughts, Blackbird~ Oh, who doesn't. I can feel my smile. I know the numbness of my expression, lazy halflidded instability. It's the usual battle of hiding what wasn't acceptable. I had gotten so good at it around Tim...

"...If you want..."

Will

"Good....cause I got something I want to show you," I say. I start to head for the back door, not going to reach for her hand again and wondering if I had done something wrong.

Chelsea

I follow through the doorway quietly, peeking in the direction of the kitchen last second. "Show me?" I ask once we're outside, falling into step beside him. Didn't think I was that special to deserve such attention. We didn't know each other, and I was confused if I wanted it to stay that way or if it'd even be possible to get some other friend. Not what Tim was. These people I let in just kept burning me - figuratively or literally... That left a bitter taste. I try not to scowl at the thought, instead looking up to see where we were headed.

Will

"yeah, just don't tell anyone," I say, leading her through the woods. We go off the path, moving deeper until a widow's walk can be seen above the tree tops. I push forward, moving aside the thicker bushes to help her get through until we're standing in front of a large, white Victorian. It's windows boarded hastily with some glimpses showing through, the widow's walk's room the only exception to the boards. The paint's peeling and ivy clings to the sides of the house.

"I found this a few weeks ago...."

I glance up at the widow's peek due to the feeling as if someone's watching us there. For a moment, I swear I can see a tall, dark figure....a man...watching us but as quick as I spot it, it's gone and I'm left to question my sight.

Chelsea

I glance up at the place blandly, my eyes following the details and lines of architecture mixed with vines. It was nice, in a way... Isolated and desolate, with peeling white paint flakes and weathered boards.

It reminded me of Mothers. And it was sort of satisfying to pretend that place was slowly rotting away into the dirt. I could picture it stone, and see the Wayne family catacombs' entrances on the manor's grounds. I didn't really get the point of showing me this... I guess if it made him happy.

Will

"you're the first one I've showed this to...I haven't showed anyone else...not even Demetrius," I murmer quietly.

Chelsea

"Yeah?" Though that didn't really answer any questions on why I was the special one to see this next. "Maybe ask your ghosts what it is if you're so curious." Because I didn't know, if that was why I was getting shown.

Will

"Well...I thought maybe I could use the help of a great detective to explore with me," I said, grinning down at her. "Since well, you've clearly been trained well in that field."

Chelsea
"That's Tim's job. I play on intimidation to get what I want, usually," I say quietly before stepping up to the various vines upon the house to inspect their anchorage. Ha~ Little looks-like-a-twelve-year-old could make street thugs shake in their brass knuckles and chains. It was always a great experience. A proper rush of using my power over anxiety as freely as I wished... There was still the lingering feeling of fogginess in my head, of the desire to just unhinge like that. The memories weren't really helping. Oops. "Why don't you ask the ghosts?"

Will

"Because they might tell that I asked them," I say, "No one else seems to know about this place...and father doesnt just let houses on our property go to ruin."

Chelsea

"Wait," I tell him bluntly. The vines were finicky with wanting to stay upon the building, so I didn't think they would be able to support his size. Had to leave my gloves behind huh... Once chalking up my hands with the dry dirt to prevent slipping I pick the cord I had selected and start scaling. Two stories wasn't hard at all so it was quick. Then careful of the rusted iron railing, I get up onto the walk. "Come up the same or shall I go downstairs and get the door open?"

Will

"Door please? I don't think they'll hold me as well." I say, looking up at her. "There might be a trap door or something to get into the house up there."

Chelsea
"Oh please, I like a challenge..." I turn around, finding the door he talked about to get into the house. My steps fall lightly on the wooden boards of the floor, leading with my feet to test the ground as I enter the room. Sliding my boots along through the heavy dust and leaves that were strewn here and there from outside, gradually shifting my weight from one leg to the other in caution in movements that felt more like some graceful slow dance. I stay crouched down, if any traps were to spring it would be at my vitals. If Will was right that his father didn't want this place found, I could only guess at the presence of some traps or whatever from that weird man to keep it secret. There wasn't any helping the creaking with a building this out of repair. I didn't seem to have any sense for ghosts, so I didn't think there was a chance of me seeing any if there were some around here watching me. I was used to the ever constant gaze of someone, though, so I didn't care. Just couldn't get away from being a subject to study, it felt like... It still felt weird to enter someone's house with them possibly in it still? Even though the creaks of the boards probably gave my presence away, I hum a slow tune to match my movements accented by the sighs of the house. Could a normal person even see these ghosts Will talked about?

Abraham

I watch her as she climbs through the window, she had gone up the vines pretty fast. She was quite skilled that way. She continues to be careful, in case of traps and I couldn't help but chuckle. No traps. David hadn't bothered with that when he boarded up the place, it had been an in and out job. I didn't think she could see me, so I did the next best thing.

There were photos hanging on the wall, one of me and my brother as well as my mother and father and a few others. My mother had insisted upon hanging them when I moved into the house. They weren't totally secured, dangling off of the rusted hooks. I take my fist and bang it against the wall, right near a few of the photos. They go crashing to the floor with a bang, the glass in the frame shattering in some more than others.

Chelsea

As I continued my hummed song, moving along in quick and careful movements that were so close to muscle memory from training I hardly needed to think about them, there was a flutter of something nearby to my sense. Will outside was quite sharp and specific by what fears I could sense. Clearly, I could bring up an image of his father's face even if I myself barely remembered what the man even wore. I could call on specific freeze frames of memories that he had feared the most even, although these things rarely left my mind's eye these days. Too...private... They weren't any fun to play with, describing such specifics to taunt or piss people off. And never did I just dish such things out to other people, because then it simply wouldn't be fair. It was just a term I had gotten into the habit of thinking in with Joker, even if he sometimes seemed to not follow by the rules. There was always the game of being unpredictable, the illusion of hope or fair play to play with people's psyches, his razor edged growl of 'poor form' versus the congratulatory toned 'good game~!'

What I was sensing was new, though, nothing like what was usual of encountering a stranger for the first time. It was far far more fainter, almost mistaking it for possibly my own nerves giving a cold shiver down my neck. But I hardly got scared, all the normally frightening things just yet another ho-hum idea to be forced to pass through my mind like a lost traveler going across the devil's crossroads. Maybe it was the memories of Joker recently called upon, but there was a distinct, although distant, chuckle which I didn't think much of from recalling the past.

Could have my own little look-see around, right? Having another person around was sometimes a bother because I couldn't concentrate on the details with them talking. As if my detective skills didn't suck enough as it were. Frames on the walls always drew my attention. Any sort of art, even crappy family pictures. And with Will so close it wasn't exactly hard to recognize a kid in one. Aging totally did not do that man justice... But the other kid was vaguely familiar as well, though I didn't know him, so it was some lingering connection to someone's fear. And the only new people today were Demetrius or their father.

The bang startled me into an immediate defensive, taking a step away as the frames fell to the floor with the sound of their breaking dusty glass that I only stare at once my heart stops racing away like a gullible fool. Fuck, think I'd be over surprises as well growing up with Joker and Harley...

Ghost then.

"I'm sure the frames appreciate the floor so much more, Mr. Poltergeist," I mumble in sarcastic sigh, fishing an old photo from the glass as a smile splayed across my face. Absent mindedly, I give a giggle to the not physical person. Wow, a ghost, really? "...Tell me where the hell the jokster genes went to in this family."

Abraham

Well she got the family part. Whether she had guessed I was a relative or not. It was a bit coincidental that she would choose those words. She was quick in thought and reflexes, gifted in that aspect. No one of my family had been or was ever truly light-hearted or care free, we were too solemn, too serious for our own good. I stay quiet, waiting for her next move to see if she'll shrug it off or pursue trying to question me.