multiversallogs | birds singing in the sycamore tree

birds singing in the sycamore tree

As night falls on Baedal, the city is almost quiet. The streets have a few last minute workers returning home, but by now, most citizens have already gone by the temples and picked up their vurt, ready to lay down and dream.

After placing a not-feather in one's mouth, there's a moment where it fizzes against the tongue before sliding coolly down the back of the throat and pulling the user down into sleep. A series of impressions, more sensation than anything concrete, appears before the user and this is how one chooses which Dreamer to enter.

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Barbara's expression remains sceptical, but she does nod grudgingly after a moment.

"I haven't come across anything hostile from them. Not directly, anyway." There's no telling which strings they're pulling, exactly. It's frustrating.

There's something ironic there, she's sure.

"Might be beneficial to...form a closer relationship." She doesn't want to say worship. It's just not something she does.

Steph opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it with a frown, "Damn timelines." Her mind had gone to Babs' fight with Calculator and how she'd mentally beaten the crap outta him. After a second, she adds, "If there's anything bad in here, we can handle it."

That makes her pause, she'd been thinking it herself lately, but it's weird to hear Babs talk about it, "It's hard to know where to start."

There are a lot of gods.

Her mouth quirks into a wry smirk. There's that natural urge to question, to satisfy her curiosity - but it's not a good idea and she knows it. Even if she doesn't remember when (when) they get back, and it's a sound theory...people shouldn't know their own future.

"With the ones we can identify with." It comes a bit too easily; she's studied the gods, of course she has. Wondered which of them might be watching her, if any.

"Eliandre is Death and Justice." Another smile, this one grim. "Right up our alley, don't you think?"

Steph wouldn't tell her even if asked; they survived, and it's not the sort of thing that Steph will risk breaking the future for. (She does need to talk to Babs about Wendy and her brother).

She huffs out a little laugh, both at the fact Babs as already given this thought, and at picking the god of death and justice.

"We could bring Jason with us, we'd be a hat trick."

Barbara chuckles, shaking her head. They'd probably have to drag him.

"I'll take the legs if you take the shoulders."

"No fair, I bet he'd try to bite me," It might be a little mean to joke about Jason like that, and Steph does sober up after a moment, looking to Babs. "Do you trust him?"

Steph personally isn't sure and she's never really gotten a chance to talk to Babs about it. She wonders if this would have been left for another time, but she's already asked, it's too late to take it back.

She sobers at that, but she looks more thoughtful than anything else; her instinct, her emotional response, is an immediate yes - he's Jason. He was Robin. She owes him that.

But she knows better than to lead with her heart.

"I do so far. He - was honest with me, when we met." When they met again, when he seemed like a different person and yet...wasn't, not at all. "Told me things he didn't have to."

Not everything, she knows that, but enough to let her decide for herself. And she had.

"He's ruthless, and he makes no apologies for it. But sometimes...sometimes you need to be." She'd held back so often, taken the "higher" road (her father's road, that Bat's road) at the slightest opportunity, but she can't afford to do that here.

"Did he tell you he nearly killed Tim?" It comes out harsher than she intends, but it's the one thing that's always there at the back of her mind whenever she looks at Jason. She keeps her gaze steady, though.

"I can understand needing to be ruthless," God knows she can be, but like Babs, she's held herself back for Bruce, for Tim, for Cass, "But I keep thinking... if I'd still been Robin, would he have done to me what he did to Tim?

At that, she looks down, arms wrapped around herself and her outfit changes, the dress shifting to darker colours - a mix of red and green, softening and blurring in a way that could almost be feathers.

Barbara's eyes widen at the change, and she can't help but smile softly; she doesn't realise that her outfit is changing as well, as if in reaction, colours blending into hues of black and gold.

Her smile fades as she nods. "He did. And I won't ever excuse that. But he did admit - that he was running wild, back then. That he was...raw." She shakes her head. "I won't excuse it. But I understand."

Her fingers tap at her knees. "And honestly - no, I don't think he would have."

"I don't know if I can forget," She sounds sad, regretful, and it's because a part of her wants to forget. She'd looked up to Jason, before he'd returned, back when he was a memorial case in a cave and quiet stories that Dick, Babs or Tim would tell. She'd thought she'd like him.

"I wish I could be so sure," that he wouldn't have done that to her. Did she only escape that because Bruce had already taken Robin from her.

Barbara reaches out her hand, and only then does she realise her sleeve has changed from blue to gold; she glances down with a fleeting, rueful smile, before placing her hand on Stephanie's.

"I don't expect you to forget, Steph, and it's not our place to forgive." She wishes Tim could, one day, but it's certainly not his obligation. "We...can try accept, though, to move forward with him. It will take time; you need to know him as - someone more than the Red Hood."

Her smile, now, is sad. "It's only easier for me because I already did. I wish - " She closes her eyes, for a moment. "You reminded me of him, in some ways. And I think that's why...he'd have reacted differently."

Steph smiles a little, noticing the change, and she turns her hand so that she can hold Babs', comforted by it.

"I don't even know him as the Red Hood," it's not a dismissal of what's already been said, she agrees with Babs, even if it's going to be a hard process for her to actually make any of it happen.

She doesn't quit smile, but her mouth twists ruefully, "I've heard that before. I'd ask him myself but... I doubt he'd appreciate the question." And she doesn't need to make an enemy out of him.

"You know his actions. That counts for a lot, good and bad."

She can imagine the context, and Barbara squeezes her hand as she says, "He was a damn good Robin, and so were you."

"I read the file," It had seemed like so little when Jason had turned up on her doorstep. She's so grateful Hermione was there, Steph probably would have slammed the door in his face, otherwise.

"Thanks," The colours of her dress brighten a little, more the proper Robin colours now, rather than a muted version. "I wish --" A lot of things, but none of them help anyone and she's not even sure if she can pinpoint a single thing. So she just shrugs it off.

"I'm sure it was objective." Coldly, mercilessly objective, if it was one of Bruce's. If it was one of hers...she doesn't know. She's still having a hard time comprehending her future actions, or lack of them.

With a soft, sad smile, "Me too."

The way Steph's mouth twists into a painful, rueful smile should confirm that. It read like Jason was just another supervillain of the week, not someone who Bruce had once called son.

She sighs and lets herself float a little more horizontal, looking up at the stars, "This got depressing."

Steph is nothing if not blunt.

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birds singing in the sycamore tree

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