milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: contemplative

(no subject)

OOM: Barry dreams, and learns that the finish line is near.

Barry left the room quietly, careful not to disturb Sara, and came downstairs early. He's been at the window for an hour now, studying the end of the universe, and feeling oddly calm.

He'll tell Sara, of course. How could he not? But for now, he isn't ready to tell anyone else. There will be time. And in that time, there is much to do, for the Bar, for his friends.

For the moment, though, Barry just looks out the window.

[ooc: slowtime, as always, is possible]

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Barry laughs with the kid. "My sentiments exactly. But given what this place can be like, are you really surprised?

"Still as long as she's gone, I don't care how. Though we are still looking for her, since they best guess is that she was only displaced." He sighs. "Another villain on the loose, I suppose."

Billy shakes his head. He writes.

Like back home. Every time you turn around a villain is rising to amke a name for himself or gasin power or conquer everything, or at least steal some pie.

"True. But the Pied Pier, contrary to his name, never once stole any pie." Barry smirks.

"And the bad guys at home were better dressed. Or at least outlandishly dressed. The villains here have no style."

Billy chuckles soundlessly, then nods. He writes quickly.

I have noticed a lack of color and spandex. Maybe someone should give them a reference to some of the tailors abck home.

"I'm sure that Paul Gambi, in Central City, still wants the business. Unless they finally found something to charge him with." Barry is grinning about this, though.

Billy smiles. Then he writes and shows Barry, a quizical look on his face.

Dont think I have ever heard of him. He works on supersuits?

"Only for the Rogues. I met him a couple of times, and he said he had no idea that what his customers were dping. That he just thought they were sort of weird.

"I never knew if he was telling me the truth. And it's not like th costumes had any gadgets in them.

"But I always wondered."

Billy nods. Another thing to wonder about back home.

He writes.

You must have had a lot of encounters and a lot of advntures in your carreer.

Yes there is still some of the fanboy in Billy.

"It goes with the job. Lots of bad guys, lots of fights. To be honest, most of the time I don't miss a lot of it. I miss being a cop, and being a Justice Leaguer. But not a fighter of costumed crooks." He smiles, though.

"Most of the time. But some days, I would give anything for one last fight like the old days." There is something a bit sad in the grin now, but also mischevious.

Billy looks at him. Then he writes.

Are you okay?

"Just feeling nostalgic, that's all." He hasn't told Sara yet, and he can't imagine he'd be ready to tell a kid and virtual stranger Billy about his fate for some time.

Billy nods and looks up at him. Then he writes.

I cant even imagine what this place is like for you.

No, Barry thinks, Biily can't. Can't imagine what it's like to have this afterlife. Can't imagine what it's like to know yu can't keep it. Can't possibly imagine how it feels to make every last day count, because second chances end.

But all Barry actually says is, "I'm sure it's not much weirder for you. After all, there are no Jedi on our world. Or mutant ninja turtles, or vampire slayers."

Billy smiles at him, wishing he could do or say something smart but, knowing he cant.

It is a little wierd, at first, and still is. But... it's also kinda cool! Aliens and kick-ass heroes, and strange people to meet.

He shows the pad and smiles a little.

"Kick-ass heroes? I hope you mean Mel or Faith. Because that was never my style." Barry looks serious, but he's just having some fun.

Billy blinks, then snickers silently.

'Kick ass' means cool, groovy, neat, even. You always were a kick ass hero. One of the best.

And he smiles brightly.

"'Neat' and 'groovy' I can live with. I didn't think anyone besides Superman still used words like that, though." Even Barry the square has advanced beyond 'neat.'

Billy grins as he writes.

I do physical training with the owner of a boxing gym. He uses the words all the time. His name's Ted Grant. He helped me gain some weight and try to learn how to defend myself.

He shows the pad to Barry, smiling as he thinks fondly off his teacher.

Barry's jaw doens't quite droop. But it could. "Ted Grant? THE Ted Grant? Billy, how do you rate training with him?"

Billy looks uncertain at the other's expression. Even so he writes.

Appparently he is an old ffriend of the family. I didnt meet him till my parents were gone, but he suppoasedly knew them when they were younger. He seems like a nice enough guy.

"You know how utterly lucky you are, Billy? To train with one of the most underrated heavyweight champs of all time?

"Never mind that he's also a super-hero. I saw him in action a few times, and he was something. Not as effecient as some" - by which he means Batman - "but more fun to watch.

"I just hope you aren't thinking about a career in boxing. I loved it as a kid, but it's really something I care much for now."

Billy shakes his head. H writes fast.

No. He was just helping m,e out to learn self -defense and to bulk up a little. I was sick when I was younger so a lot of my early years I was underweight. But he has really helped me. Plus a lot of the basics are really good exercise moves.

He smiles.

Then he glances around and writes more.

I really should head out. Nice talking to you, Barry.

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