milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Dick wasn't expecting to see the bar.

Ever again, really. He had become used to the bar being somewhere he could access through tents and doors in the circus. It was a new part of his world, sure, but it was a part of it.

Then his world collapsed in front of him and everything changed and suddenly he found himself living in an orphanage in Gotham City run by nuns.

He's had to deal with that new, horrible world, and he hates everything about it. Hates how it's not the circus, but at the same time, he's sort of pleased that he doesn't have to be at the circus, to see Mister Haly or the animals or any of his friends, and not see his parents. This new world is horrible, but because it's missing everything, it's not missing them specifically.

That's what he'd think if he was capable of coherent thought on the subject right now.

As it is, Dick couldn't explain exactly why finding the bar appear on the way to his dorm feels like a betrayal.

The boy stands in the doorway, fists clenching at his side as he glares at the bar for daring to still exist, and still be bright and loud and friendly when everything on the other side of the door is broken.

He glares for one second,
two seconds,
three seconds...

And then he vanishes into the rafters.

[OOC: If you can find him, completely open! But be open to very short threads, if he doesn't want to talk. DCU!Dick.]

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Dick frowns a little, because pie sounds like a bribe.

But he's already bribed by the prospect of a giant bear-dog.

He drops from the rafter - tucking into a roll and landing on his feet on the ground directly under his rafter spot.

"I'll have some pie. Thank you."

Welcome to Texas, circa eighteen-eighty-eight, where all your problems can be solved with food. That's what Kate thinks, anyhow.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. My, you're agile."

She gives him space; she wouldn't want him to feel penned in or pressured. Leading the way to the Bar, she asks the Miss if she could divide a peach pie into two slices they can carry with them, along with some snacks for the stock.

"My name's Kate. Miss Kate Barlow."

"I'm Dick. Grayson," he says, distracted by watching the pie. He's hungrier than he thought he was, and it's been a while since he had something as delicious looking as that pie.

Then he turns towards her and quickly says: "pleasedtomeetyou Miss Barlow."

Her lips twitch.

"Pleased t'make your acquaintance as well, Master Grayson."

She knows the look of a hungry boy. Turning back to the Miss, she asks for a thermos of hot cider as well, tucking it into one of the large pockets of her duster, and the treats for the stock in another. That leaves the pies on paper plates, one of which she quickly hands over with — ah, some strange plastic cutlery that looks like a cross between a fork and a spoon.

Gathering up her own plate, she nods toward the back door.

"Shall we?"

"Kay."

It's not that he's hungry -they're feeding him, fin. It's just that the food isn't any good and pie doesn't feature heavily.

But he still takes a bite before he moves, because it's right there. The thing about carrying a plat of food, of course, is the journey to the back door has got to take place on foot.

She's got no qualms with clearing a path as they move on; comfort food's no good if you're not doing the eating, and he needs it more than she does. So she moves a few paces ahead of him, well in his line of sight but still far enough on that he'll notice her turning to dodge waitrats no matter where his focus might be.

"I never thought I'd find a finer peach pie outside'a Green Lake, but Miss Bar sure knows her stuff."

She opens the door, letting him pass through at his leisure.

"Mmmm."

He walks and shovels pie, so words at all are something to be grateful for.

"She's good at food."

"Yes, she is."

She laughs under her breath, scooping up her first bite once they're out in the fresh air.

She doesn't mind if he's quiet. It's an improvement from the rafters.

"She's good at a lotta things. I might be in awful big trouble if she hadn't found me."

Dick would object to that. If he was aware of it, he might suggest that being on the ground and walking like a normal person is worrying in itself.7

But he's not that aware.

"Why's that?"

"Well. I don't have a home, for starters."

She chooses her words carefully. Not only is she reticent because he's young, and it wouldn't do to talk of her unsavory business, but because he's upset, and it wouldn't do to upset him further.

"I ain't got no means of livelihood no more. I've lost people I love, an' there are people out there who'd hurt me if they could."

She pauses to have another bite of pie, and see how that's settled before going on.

"Miss Bar's been a safe haven, from time t'time."

Well.

Um.

Dick is quiet for a while after listening to that, his head down, his attention on his pie.

Until eventually he says:

"I don't have a home either."

Anymore.

The orphanage is not a home. It's just a place. And places aren't homes.

She sweeps a look at him, silent, and glances away after a moment so he doesn't feel like he's under a magnifying glass.

"Well. I guess that makes you an' me kin, in a small way."

She smiles softly.

"Or it makes Miss Bar a black humorist. It can be comfortable here, but — there are things I miss. We had peach trees everywhere, down by the lake. Summer here doesn't quite fit without the scent of their blossoms. It can make my blood boil sometimes."

Dick glances over at the Milliways lake, the garden, the training area, the forest, the mountains.

"Can't you plant them?"

"I never really thought 'bout it. I ain't sure — this has always felt like somebody else's, where I jus' visit."

Maybe she should ask.

"Y'know?"

"Yeah," Dick agrees. "I know."

He can't really imagine living here. It's just another place.

She smiles softly, tempted to give his arm a reassuring touch, but she keeps her hands to herself.

They're closing in on the stables.

"It ain't easy, havin' no place t'put my boots, but the stables here are a comfort. I'll come out here whenever things feel like they're gettin' t'be too much."

"Because of the animals?"

He can smell them now, and it's a reassuring, familiar smell. It's also, as it happens, a saddening, painful smell, but he won't mention that.

"Mm, that's a good bit of it. I was raised on a farm, an' I'm used t'bein' around animals of all sorts. But there's also somethin' 'bout the place itself. The smell of hay, and the warmth it makes. The fresh air an' the starlight."

She breaks off a piece of pie crust, popping it in her mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

"D'you mind if I ask where you're from?"

Edited 2013-05-21 02:56 (UTC)

Dick finishes chewing his mouthful of peaches before he swallows, taking the time to figure out how to answer the question.

"The circus."

It's not really a 'where,' but it is a 'from.'

Ah, a few dots are quickly connected. His interest in Naga, his name — she met another young man not too long ago who mentioned he'd gone to a circus with a boy, yes, she's sure his name was Dick.

Of course, as he's said he doesn't have a home, and a circus is certainly more a 'from' than a 'where', she doesn't want to press him too hard on it.

"Y'like animals, then?"

"Yeah," he says, with a shrug. "We've got an elephant and lions and tigers, and horses and dogs. I get on with them."

He notices halfway through the sentence that he's using the wrong tense, but he doesn't correct himself. Because now they're at the stables and he's rising up on the balls of his feet to peer inside.

She adopts the called-for awe in her expression.

"My! The only time I've seen any of those was durin' Cubefall here, an' since they used t'be patrons they were plenty docile."

She wouldn't mind seeing an elephant, lion, or tiger in the wild, or even at a circus.

There's a door in the side of the building, smaller than the swinging barn doors — human-sized, if you will — that she opens, ushering Dick inside with a grin.

"Come on in, sugar. Don't be shy. Lady Naga's at the back near the tack room; I'll introduce you t'the others as we go along."

He wasn't really asking for awe, and finds the tone mildly patronizing, so gives her a sideways look. He forgives her pretty quickly though, because the stables are now open and he darts inside, putting his now empty plate on the first empty sruface he can find.

Thing is, it's entirely sincere. It doesn't take too awful much to impress Kate. She's fairly easy to please.

"This here's Hrimfaxa, she's a Fae horse, an' beside her is Grani, a male — ah, also a robot."

That's something of a more complicated story. She goes on to point out Duncan and Rachat, mentioning that they're stable property and can be taken out for rides if he likes; her animals, Beaut and Concession; and a few of the other horses. One of Teja's cats even makes an appearance, just outside of the Brahmin's stall. Eventually, they come to Naga.

Dick had bent down long enough to scratch the cat behind its ears. which had led to Kate getting away from him, but now he looks up, and in a few seconds is sitting on the stable door, peering over at her.

She's beautiful.

Naga shuffles to her feet when she is disturbed, and extends a huge face towards him, big enough to swallow him in one bite, should she want.

She sniffs him curiously, and Dick responds by patting her on the nose.

"Hey, girl."