I've already died, so I know how it works. I'm not worried about not dying. I'm sure that I will again. It was bad enough dying and being put in that pit. I have no desire to go back there. There's a part of me...
[He pauses, and shakes his head.]
A part that won't ever be the same. It's there, and I feel it. The pit marked me, but I can and will always fight it. I know I was meant to come back and keep doing this, but when it's my time I'll be ready. I'm not like the al'guls. I'm not going to spend life trying to extend it.
[How does he describe the pit to someone who doesn't know anything about it. He only knows fragments of the legends, but he can feel the pull of the bloodlust that it's supposed to cause. Dick's kept it at bay, and not let it overtake him, but he knows it's there always at the back of his mind. ]
The Pit contains fragments of all the souls its ever resurrected, or healed. There's a much larger one that the Al'Gul's use to stay alive for centuries. I don't know much about that one, but I know it can cause a person to go mad with bloodlust and can steal their soul until someone goes to retrieve it because it's been used by so many people. The pit that I was put in was small. I know Jason went in that one as well. I feel the darkness, the push of it in the corners of my mind, but I can push back. I know that if I didn't have the job that I do, I think I might go ... mad, somewhat.
[That was something he'd never admitted to anyone. The pit craved violence, and if it didn't get it, it pushed harder. Dick's life was inherently violent. He never killed, but he took care of people who fought him back. He'd always be in this life. It saved him. ]
[Iggy listens, showing no sign of disbelief. He does, however, look horrified.]
That's unnatural. Places like that... I hope you destroyed it, I really do.
[Iggy drums his fingers on the table, frowning lightly.]
These people who made the pit... they didn't do a very good job, sounds like. I mean, bloodlust as a side effect is pretty fucking dumb, don't you think? You'd think over a few hundred years they'd have thought up a fix for that.
You know--
[Iggy pauses, eyes flicking over Dick's shoulder.
Crap. Dead guy. Right there.
So he just goes on:]
--you sure do talk about dark stuff a lot. Do you like horror movies, Dick?
Well, you did ask, kinda and I figured since we're dating that you might want to know things about me. If you don't that's fine too. I was also talking about work. I do this type of thing for a living, dark stuff. I deal with it all the time.
[Dick shrugs, and doesn't know how else to be. He fights madmen who want to kill entire cities with fear gas, Demons who want to eat the world and other horrible people. This is who Dick is. He can be a violent person at times, and while he's not as bad as he once was, and will never kill-- he's not gentle all the time.
Maybe that's why he's kind and overly attentive in this part of his life. It's a balancing of some sort. Taking a breath, Dick laughs. ]
No, not particularly. I've watched some, I like psychological thrillers. I see enough gore in my everyday life. I like some things, but it's not the first type of movie I reach for. I like comedies, and fantasies. I like things that work my imagination and keep my mind busy. Thrillers are fun, and I love things like 300, Gladiator, those type of movies. What about you?
I know I asked. It wasn't a judgement, sweetie, it's okay. You don't have to get defensive.
[Iggy starts turning his water glass this way and that, mostly to give him an excuse not to look up.]
Me? Oh, I like almost everything. I'm bad at mysteries though, I pretty much never figure out who did it. That sort of deduction isn't my forte.
[The ghost is still right there. He can feel it staring at him.
Iggy sighs and looks up.]
Will you excuse me a second? I just need to use the washroom.
[A quick smile that he hopes reassures, before he's hurrying away from the table and out of the restaurant, not towards the restrooms.
No, instead he tucks himself against the wall a little way from the entrance. He takes out his cellphone so he doesn't look like he's talking to himself as he begins a conversation with apparent empty air.]
[There was no defense in his tone, much more aloof than anything else. It was discussion and it wasn't anything that Dick worried about. He had no reason to feel defensive around Iggy. They'd straightened out enough things about his job and such that speaking about it never truly bothered him. They both held odd business about them, and in the same manner, Dick would never judge Iggy for what he had to do.
Watching Iggy move past him, Dick already knows what he's doing. He wishes that the other didn't lie about it, but maybe not speaking of the dead is easier. Those are rules that Dick doesn't know and will ask later when they are back at his apartment, away from the shadows that haunt his boyfriend. ]
[Iggy would argue that intent and what people hear as tone sometimes differ.
He also has no idea that Dick has figured out that, yeah, he was lying about the bathroom, so he spends much of his conversation with the dead guy concerned that Dick might think he's ditched.
He actually does use his phone eventually, to text Dick:]
[That is always true, and even further truth over things like text. Dick knows he has trouble with that occasionally. It's in the past though, and his more pressing concern is what he needs to do to help his boyfriend out, if there is anything he can do.
Dick cares deeply and wants to always make sure that he's being supportive and keeping Iggy safe, and surrounded by the warmth of his affection at all times.
Gazing at the text, Dick tips his head.]
I know babe, take your time. I will wait for you to finish. I'm not leaving. If you need me for absolutely anything, I'm right here. My arms will be yours when you are done.
[Unfortunately it hits Dick hard that Iggy doesn't even ask for Dick's help, or share a bit of what's going on, why he doesn't want him to wait-- or anything of the sort. After all that Dick's shared with Iggy, a thing that could damage him and his reputation forever as a vigilante this is a pretty big slap.
Taking a deep breath, Dick sits and stays for the remainder of the meal that hasn't been served yet. He wants to sit and think over their relationship. It's a lot of up and down already, and there's so much about one another that they don't understand or click on. They have deep problems reading and really deeply getting what they talk about. Like earlier, Dick hadn't been defensive at all. He'd been talking, and having a discussion.
Things seem to go from serious to flippant in seconds, and Dick doesn't get how Iggy does that either. He mulls this over as he eats the dinner they'd ordered. Eventually leaving and returning to his place alone.]
[In his cramped apartment, Iggy sighs. He's not quite so clueless that he doesn't recognise that Dick miiiiight be upset, but on the other hand the guy is a vigilante. Of course he's working at the ass-end of night.
So he watches some YouTube and falls asleep, vaguely unsettled but more or less confident that they really will talk.]
[The message is read, but left that way. Dick has to figure out how he wants to handle everything still and give himself time to get over his initial upset.
They'd talked about how Dick had trouble expressing things, and not talking about them. He's doing his best to talk about everything now with Iggy, at least that's what he thought he was doing. But, he gets told he's being defensive. Dick's not so sure now that sharing his feelings or thoughts is necessarily the way to go. Maybe it's easier to keep it in, to not share everything. Bruce had it right.
Maybe Dick is just still really grand at fucking up relationships. It's not like this one has lasted all that long. They've had a couple of nights together and a date. It's alright. Dick wants more, but doesn't even know if he has the right to ask for it, and they're supposed to be dating, but honestly, Dick doesn't know what that means between them. He's learned a few things, and feels like some of the things that he enjoys, Iggy doesn't because Dick isn't one of his 'men' ... Dick wonders if Iggy gets more from them than Dick.
There's so much that Dick wants to do and try. He's got a lot of things on his bucket list, but they don't. Dick doesnt' want to disrespect Iggy. Then talking is strained, and now there's this ghost thing. Maybe they don't work. He's so flustered and overthinking like normal. After a few days he sends a text. ]
If you want to talk, feel free to come by some time. I'll be here and off for the next few days.
Can we meet and talk first and then go to the gallery. I want to talk about what happened before we go out. I think we have things to discuss first. I'm sorry I went silent, but I needed to think.
[There's a mixed bag of feelings for Dick. He still likes Iggy so much, but he's so worried about how things work between them. He knows that they have to sit and talk it out. It's not easy for him, but it can't sit on his mind and fester either-- and doing it in private is much better than doing it at an art gallery.]
[Uncertainty creeps in the closer he gets. Dick knows what he should do, but there's so much emotion tied to it, and thoughts about what he's trying to do to make himself a better person make him begin to doubt his mission. His resolve wobbles when he parks his bike outside and gets off, hanging the helmet on the handle.
Walking up to Iggy's door, Dick knocks. He's only been here a handful of times. He's always wanted to ask Iggy to move in, but the few times he suggested it, Iggy treated him like he was a one of his sugar daddys (or whatever Iggy wanted to call them-- Dick tried not to pay so much attention), so he stopped bringing it up.]
[For lack of a better place currently, Dick leans over a counter and presses his lips together. He wrinkles his nose a bit. ]
I'm not mad. I was upset, frustrated. I mean, I knew what you were dealing with or thought I did and you up and left me without giving me any credit. I would have been happy to done anything, anything for you and you didn't even give me a chance. You didn't even bother to tell me the truth. That hurt. I've been opening up to you, because you have been pushing me to in some ways.
I mean...
[He pauses. He wasn't going to say this much, but he's not sure how not to. It's a difficult choice to make. He doesn't want to go completely backwards. Two word sentences and short clips of thoughts got him no where, and ruined all the things he had. This isn't much better though. This communication thing.]
I want us to communicate. I don't feel like we actually do, not on an even level.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[He pauses, and shakes his head.]
A part that won't ever be the same. It's there, and I feel it. The pit marked me, but I can and will always fight it. I know I was meant to come back and keep doing this, but when it's my time I'll be ready. I'm not like the al'guls. I'm not going to spend life trying to extend it.
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Well. Relatively.
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The Pit contains fragments of all the souls its ever resurrected, or healed. There's a much larger one that the Al'Gul's use to stay alive for centuries. I don't know much about that one, but I know it can cause a person to go mad with bloodlust and can steal their soul until someone goes to retrieve it because it's been used by so many people. The pit that I was put in was small. I know Jason went in that one as well. I feel the darkness, the push of it in the corners of my mind, but I can push back. I know that if I didn't have the job that I do, I think I might go ... mad, somewhat.
[That was something he'd never admitted to anyone. The pit craved violence, and if it didn't get it, it pushed harder. Dick's life was inherently violent. He never killed, but he took care of people who fought him back. He'd always be in this life. It saved him. ]
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That's unnatural. Places like that... I hope you destroyed it, I really do.
[Iggy drums his fingers on the table, frowning lightly.]
These people who made the pit... they didn't do a very good job, sounds like. I mean, bloodlust as a side effect is pretty fucking dumb, don't you think? You'd think over a few hundred years they'd have thought up a fix for that.
You know--
[Iggy pauses, eyes flicking over Dick's shoulder.
Crap. Dead guy. Right there.
So he just goes on:]
--you sure do talk about dark stuff a lot. Do you like horror movies, Dick?
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[Dick shrugs, and doesn't know how else to be. He fights madmen who want to kill entire cities with fear gas, Demons who want to eat the world and other horrible people. This is who Dick is. He can be a violent person at times, and while he's not as bad as he once was, and will never kill-- he's not gentle all the time.
Maybe that's why he's kind and overly attentive in this part of his life. It's a balancing of some sort. Taking a breath, Dick laughs. ]
No, not particularly. I've watched some, I like psychological thrillers. I see enough gore in my everyday life. I like some things, but it's not the first type of movie I reach for. I like comedies, and fantasies. I like things that work my imagination and keep my mind busy. Thrillers are fun, and I love things like 300, Gladiator, those type of movies. What about you?
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[Iggy starts turning his water glass this way and that, mostly to give him an excuse not to look up.]
Me? Oh, I like almost everything. I'm bad at mysteries though, I pretty much never figure out who did it. That sort of deduction isn't my forte.
[The ghost is still right there. He can feel it staring at him.
Iggy sighs and looks up.]
Will you excuse me a second? I just need to use the washroom.
[A quick smile that he hopes reassures, before he's hurrying away from the table and out of the restaurant, not towards the restrooms.
No, instead he tucks himself against the wall a little way from the entrance. He takes out his cellphone so he doesn't look like he's talking to himself as he begins a conversation with apparent empty air.]
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Watching Iggy move past him, Dick already knows what he's doing. He wishes that the other didn't lie about it, but maybe not speaking of the dead is easier. Those are rules that Dick doesn't know and will ask later when they are back at his apartment, away from the shadows that haunt his boyfriend. ]
Sure, babe. I've got you.
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He also has no idea that Dick has figured out that, yeah, he was lying about the bathroom, so he spends much of his conversation with the dead guy concerned that Dick might think he's ditched.
He actually does use his phone eventually, to text Dick:]
something has come up.
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Dick cares deeply and wants to always make sure that he's being supportive and keeping Iggy safe, and surrounded by the warmth of his affection at all times.
Gazing at the text, Dick tips his head.]
I know babe, take your time. I will wait for you to finish. I'm not leaving. If you need me for absolutely anything, I'm right here. My arms will be yours when you are done.
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[Typed as he heads for the elevator. If he thought this through better he might not be so hasty, but Iggy isn't always that bright.]
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[Unfortunately it hits Dick hard that Iggy doesn't even ask for Dick's help, or share a bit of what's going on, why he doesn't want him to wait-- or anything of the sort. After all that Dick's shared with Iggy, a thing that could damage him and his reputation forever as a vigilante this is a pretty big slap.
Taking a deep breath, Dick sits and stays for the remainder of the meal that hasn't been served yet. He wants to sit and think over their relationship. It's a lot of up and down already, and there's so much about one another that they don't understand or click on. They have deep problems reading and really deeply getting what they talk about. Like earlier, Dick hadn't been defensive at all. He'd been talking, and having a discussion.
Things seem to go from serious to flippant in seconds, and Dick doesn't get how Iggy does that either. He mulls this over as he eats the dinner they'd ordered. Eventually leaving and returning to his place alone.]
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I'm alive!
guess I owe you dinner.
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He glances at it with a raised brow and sends back a response. ]
Glad you made it. I'm alive too. Working.
We'll talk later.
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be careful out there.
[In his cramped apartment, Iggy sighs. He's not quite so clueless that he doesn't recognise that Dick miiiiight be upset, but on the other hand the guy is a vigilante. Of course he's working at the ass-end of night.
So he watches some YouTube and falls asleep, vaguely unsettled but more or less confident that they really will talk.]
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They'd talked about how Dick had trouble expressing things, and not talking about them. He's doing his best to talk about everything now with Iggy, at least that's what he thought he was doing. But, he gets told he's being defensive. Dick's not so sure now that sharing his feelings or thoughts is necessarily the way to go. Maybe it's easier to keep it in, to not share everything. Bruce had it right.
Maybe Dick is just still really grand at fucking up relationships. It's not like this one has lasted all that long. They've had a couple of nights together and a date. It's alright. Dick wants more, but doesn't even know if he has the right to ask for it, and they're supposed to be dating, but honestly, Dick doesn't know what that means between them. He's learned a few things, and feels like some of the things that he enjoys, Iggy doesn't because Dick isn't one of his 'men' ... Dick wonders if Iggy gets more from them than Dick.
There's so much that Dick wants to do and try. He's got a lot of things on his bucket list, but they don't. Dick doesnt' want to disrespect Iggy. Then talking is strained, and now there's this ghost thing. Maybe they don't work. He's so flustered and overthinking like normal. After a few days he sends a text. ]
If you want to talk, feel free to come by some time. I'll be here and off for the next few days.
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Still, he keeps it friendly.]
ok! but I have a better idea: meet me at the art gallery at 7? I owe you a date. :)
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[There's a mixed bag of feelings for Dick. He still likes Iggy so much, but he's so worried about how things work between them. He knows that they have to sit and talk it out. It's not easy for him, but it can't sit on his mind and fester either-- and doing it in private is much better than doing it at an art gallery.]
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Walking up to Iggy's door, Dick knocks. He's only been here a handful of times. He's always wanted to ask Iggy to move in, but the few times he suggested it, Iggy treated him like he was a one of his sugar daddys (or whatever Iggy wanted to call them-- Dick tried not to pay so much attention), so he stopped bringing it up.]
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Come in. I made coffee, you want some?
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Yeah, sure. Coffee sounds great.
[Glancing around, Dick notices the quiet. ]
Wow, never seen it this quiet around here.
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[Iggy steps into the little kitchen to get them each a cup of coffee.]
So. Are you mad? Is that why you want to talk privately?
[He hands Dick his mug, looking curious but not especially upset.]
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I'm not mad. I was upset, frustrated. I mean, I knew what you were dealing with or thought I did and you up and left me without giving me any credit. I would have been happy to done anything, anything for you and you didn't even give me a chance. You didn't even bother to tell me the truth. That hurt. I've been opening up to you, because you have been pushing me to in some ways.
I mean...
[He pauses. He wasn't going to say this much, but he's not sure how not to. It's a difficult choice to make. He doesn't want to go completely backwards. Two word sentences and short clips of thoughts got him no where, and ruined all the things he had. This isn't much better though. This communication thing.]
I want us to communicate. I don't feel like we actually do, not on an even level.
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