milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Stephanie has discovered the fire, and is currently curled into a tight ball in an enormous armchair watching the flames. She mostly looks sad, tired and thoughtful, but every so often she giggles and hugs herself, in the manner of one who's had a lot of bad things and one incredibly good thing happen to her recently. She's got a lot to think about. But she's never been particularly good at thinking things through - it's hard work. She'd welcome distractions.

[Mace Windu helps Steph work through some more of her ever-multiplying Issues, with a little help from the Force; Steph and Connor get to know each other a little, in that we're-from-the-same-universe-let's-talk way.]

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"At least you're here? Most people don't get that chance."

And, as for why he was here? "Not by choice, but I like it. The bar usually grabs me after patrol."

"Yeah. I figure, who stays dead for long in our world, anyway? So I'll stay here until someone brings me back. It can't be that hard." Blind optimism, maybe, but it's keeping her spirits up.

"That's ... weird. What, you just go home and end up here? Is there a door or something?"

Connor can't promise her that'll happen. But at the same time, he's experienced it closehand, hasn't he? His father came back. "Don't... ignore here because of that possibility, though."

"Yeah. It always happens when I try to walk into my bedroom after patrol. Not every day, though."

"Yeah, I know. It's kind of a long shot, anyway. I think you have to be important to come back, and, y'know, I was just a kid." She shrugs. "It's not so bad here, anyway. You don't seem to mind getting dragged here after every patrol...?"

"Everyone's important," Connor says simply. He wonders how a -Robin- can say that they were 'just a kid'.

"I don't. I find it rather interesting." He smiles slightly. "It's a good break from the routine."

"Yeah, true, if you look at it that way. Doesn't your wife mind, if you keep disappearing?"

Who, Steph, blatantly prying? Never. She's just curious.

"I don't have a wife," Connor says. It's not said with regret or longing as some might, just as if it's a fact that will change eventually. "But even if I did, time doesn't pass when I'm in here."

"Time doesn't pass? Hey, that could be really useful. I mean, if you were injured or anything, you could come here and heal and then go on fighting!" She pauses. "Oh. If you could come when you wanted, of course."

The bandage on his shoulder denies that statement of hers, if nothing else. Not that Connor would have tried to come here during the fight, anyway.

"I'm going to try to test that out tomorrow. Kyle and I are trying something."

"Cool. ... Who's Kyle? Oh - if I shouldn't ask, that's fine. Hey, what happened to your shoulder? Routine patrol injury? Are you Arrows metas, or just people like us?"

"Kyle's my best friend. I haven't seen him for a long while, but... we ran into each other here."

As for her latter question? "Everyone's just people, Steph," Connor says. "And it wasn't so routine, but yes."

"Yes, but some people are better than others," Steph says. "Is your arm okay? I'm pretty good at patching people up."

"It's already been patched, but thank you." Connor thinks about what she said. "I suppose you're right, but I don't like rating people like that."

"Really? It feels like all I ever do is compared to other people. Especially when I was training. It was always about how much better the other Robin was." She thinks about it. "I guess it made me more determined to be good."

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