controlledvariable: (PB >> but you can't even win)
(ง︡'-'︠)ง ([personal profile] controlledvariable) wrote in [community profile] multiversallogs2012-04-15 12:31 pm

But all the reasons I gave...

Who: Steph and Wolfgang
What: Explanations
Where: Badside.
When: Backdated a little to last Misdi.
Notes: nope.
Warnings: Militia stuff, more will be added if necessary



It's a quiet Misdi afternoon when Steph finds herself in Badside; she's there for unrelated reasons, but she remembers Babs mentioning that Wolfgang lives here, and, well - He's been on her mind a lot, lately, after their meeting during the reality storm and subsequent monster invasion, and then Babs discussing him with her, when they were talking about potential allies for their work against the militia. Steph had wavered then, whether or not to spill about the fact Wolfgang could do some kind of magic. Eventually she'd decided to give a little away, vague details, and they'd decided they should talk to him.

She feels guilty, both for telling a secret that doesn't feel like it's hers to tell, and for discussing him like he's a weapon - something to use in their fight. She has to remind herself that it's not like that, that he already talked about wanting to help Babs, and that he still has the option to back out. And maybe she can make it up to him, with the secrets thing. During the reality storm, she hadn't told him it was her underneath the Batgirl costume, and although Steph and Wolfgang don't know each other that well, she thinks she owes it to him to explain.

So she's nearby, and she's thinking of him, but unlike most Bats, she isn't just going to turn up on his doorstep unannounced and uninvited. Instead, she finds a spot to sit down and pulls out her CiD, typing up a text.

Hi, Wolfgang.

I don't know if you remember me, but we've met a few times. I altered some of your clothes for you, and I - well, that's something I'd like to talk to you about. We could go for coffee, or a drink (my treat) this afternoon if you'd like to.

Hope you're well,
Stephanie


It seems a little awkward to her, but she's never been great at texting so it'll have to do. She sends it to Wolfgang's number.
gramarye: (☽ the poetry that i be)

[personal profile] gramarye 2012-04-15 08:04 am (UTC)(link)
Wolfgang is not stupid, so it doesn't take him much to follow what all that means. The idea of it is like a fist punching him straight in the gut, a cold wind in his heart. He runs his hands through his hair, elbows braced against the table, and exhales, looking down.

He should say no. This is basically suicide, or worse, because everyone here knows there are worse things than death and they're all available in Baedal. He still has nightmares about the incident, which -- them being terribly mundane in comparison to all the other ones doesn't make them any better, since it isn't over once he wakes up. He should be doing what he's already doing: laying low, playing it safe, being a good, model citizen.

But he can't, because he can't ignore what he's heard from people he cares about, seen with his own eyes, experienced bodily. Further, he can't escape it. There's nowhere to run to here, no other cities or countries to hide in, and it's that guilt that eats at him, the belief that he's been enough of a fucking coward for ten lifetimes.

Dying isn't what he's afraid of, anyway. He already knows he's going to, and that it's going to be very soon, and likely in Baedal. And why not -- it's not like he can ever go home again.

It's a long time before he raises his head again, his hands still in his hair. "What do you need?" he asks, voice quiet.
gramarye: (☽ i am the pick in the ice)

[personal profile] gramarye 2012-04-15 08:54 am (UTC)(link)
He considers this a moment, letting his head rest against one hand while his other drops back down. Then, in the interests of full disclosure: "In the IDF, I was in Sayeret Yahalom." His voice is low, but they're not going to be overheard here, and even if they were, well. In Badside, people keep their mouths shut. It's part of why he likes it here. "It's, um, special forces, combat engineering. Demolitions and EOD."

That's not easy to get into, and bomb disposal is a particularly difficult job. He doesn't look like a soldier, but who in Baedal looks what they are?

"And, um..." He waves his hand vaguely, wiggling his fingers, which stop that, spirit fingers are the worst magic-indicating gesture ever. "Magic... things, I guess." Okay, it's not always taken super seriously in Baedal, but he could at least put more effort into being dignified about it if he's going to be a wizard.

He folds his arms on the table, then, his mouth set in a thin line. "Point is, I don't..." He shrugs. "I don't have much front line experience, but a lot of training as support. The um, thing," he won't say magic again, "that's new to me, I'm not sure what all it can do."
gramarye: (☽ surrounded or spiraling)

[personal profile] gramarye 2012-04-15 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
"All right," he says, and sighs, and runs a hand through his hair again -- it's not over her, obviously he thinks what she's doing is important or he would have turned her down, it's just he can't believe he's doing something this stupid again. The Militia is well-funded, well-armed, has access to resources none of them do, likely hugely outnumbers and outclasses them, and is deeply embedded in the political infrastructure of Baedal. They're all probably going to die.

He guesses she's probably aware of that.

"It's fine, thank you, I'm taking care of it." By which he means all aboard the Denial Train, choo choo! Now pulling into Delusional Central Station! He sounds polite and a little sheepish; he doesn't mean to blow her off about it, but the idea itself makes him uncomfortable.

Then again, if he's going to use it for something that actually matters, he should at least figure out what the hell he's doing. It's okay if he sets himself on fire, but not okay if he sets someone else on fire.

While he's at it, he finishes off his beer. When he gets back to Kahnde's, he's going to crack into his hard liquor. Shaking his head, he gestures with the empty bottle. "Um, but -- feel free to call me for whatever you need." He means it, too. If he's going to do this, he's going to commit completely; he can't run away this time.
gramarye: (☽ everybody cares everybody understands)

[personal profile] gramarye 2012-04-17 10:16 am (UTC)(link)
That is so enormously ironic that it actually makes him smile a little -- dryly, to be sure, but it's still a smile. "Well, I'll try," he lies, because the word 'careful' is not actually a part of his vocabulary. Living in Baedal has just aggravated that.

Fucking monster rain, seriously.

"I'll keep that in mind." Wolfgang is lucky in some aspects because despite occasionally being hassled by officers -- on the train, usually, not often within Badside itself -- they mostly ignore him, and the worst he has to deal with are comments intended to intimidate. Not more violence. "Thank you. Hopefully I won't need anyone punched in the face or whatever."

He is at least reasonably sure she would be excellent at that. The bat costume is a little scary.