[This is said with the pessimistic doubt. He will probably have to use a gun. Maybe.
He bobs the dragon in his arms a bit, kind of like how you would a baby or a toddler.] Come get this fat, spoiled thing, and I'll show you. [This is said (affectionate) rather than (derogatory).
Jason is the textpost meme of holding up the cat and calling it a stinky bastard man while Rupert goes NOOOOOO DON'T BE MEAN!]
Yeah? I'll have to give him a run for his money sometime then.
[Jokingly talking about testing the dragon's skill when really he is stupid athletic enough to need to be walked like a dog himself, or he'll get bored.
With the key, Jason unlocks to the door and pushes it open to go in.
Unfortunately, it's the epitome of a stinky bachelor pad in its aesthetics, touched by a hint of city studio apartment. But! It isn't messy! Jason is actually shockingly clean and organized, even if he doesn't look like it. So the room is neat.
The color palette is mostly red, not unlike the symbol on the front of his outfit, something deep and rich. But all his accent colors are black, or a peppering of grey or stainless steel. The queen bed has an iron frame and red sheets, which seem like a weird choice until it's obvious they are red because blood doesn't show up as easily...
The closet isn't too big or too small, and the doors are mirrored, looking out onto the open space of the room. The desk is maybe different from most people's desks: it looks like it can fold up against the wall and out of the way, to make more floor space. But for right now, it's down, and has a collection of the things the hotel as given them.
A separate wall is lined with display cases, each one holding different fake and unmovable weapons--knives, short swords, guns. Around them is a few posters of motorcycles or muscle cars. Another wall has a pull-up bar near the ceiling, a fake flatscreen TV which doesn't work, and a shelf full of a bunch of fake books. The titles are all worldly Earth classics.
The far wall has the only window. The scene outside is a nighttime city few through the runs of a fire escape. There's too much light pollution for most stars, and the moon is peeking from behind a building. But there is... a cone of light in the sky, the middle of it cut out by a stylized bat.]
[it looks very strange to him, but he's chalking that up to the fact that he still isn't familiar with designs from this time period. he glances over everything, but it's the symbol in the moon that really grabs his attention. he tilts his head and gestures towards it.]
[He never thought he'd have fun dunking on Bruce to someone who doesn't know who the hell Batman is. He feels a bit bad because Rupert just puts up with his bullshit all the time.
So he waves a hand dismissively.]
I'm fucking with you. It's a man, not a monster. He dresses up in an outfit that looks kind of like a bat, and, yeah, he stops criminals and bad guys. He wants them to think of him like a monster, though. It scares them.
The signal is what the police commissioner uses to call him.
[sometimes you are stupid and just accept things. there have been weirder things than a bat and man hybrid, probably. but he squints at this explanation.]
Sounds weird. Is he the only one stopping criminals? Or do they only call him when there's a really serious problem?
[Yeah. Like a psychotic clown. Or a man who thinks he's a penguin. Or a guy with two halves of a face. It's fine.]
No, no magic. Batman would loathe to hear you say that, too. He hates magic. [Jason also doesn't much care for magic. It's a Bat thing.] They're capable because they're well-trained.
And they also have a lot of gadgets.
[He'd say they have a lot of money, but maybe that is too on the nose and would give Bruce away. "Rupert doesn't know who the fuck Bruce is." Still.]
Acting like this is sooo begrudging, he meanders over to the desk to sit down, pull the piece of paper and pen the hotel gave them down. He doesn't want to waste his paper on drawing pointless (to him) stuff, so he uses one corner on the backside.
He does the Batmobile first. It looks like this. Jason isn't a master artist, but he actually draws decently well?
[He looks at what he drew. Like. Okay. He'll give a quarter of that to Rupert. The Batmobile kind of has a train-ish shape. Sort of.] It's a car. [He wants to say "so close," but it is not close.]
It doesn't run on any rails. Batman drives it. How about this one?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[This is said with the pessimistic doubt. He will probably have to use a gun. Maybe.
He bobs the dragon in his arms a bit, kind of like how you would a baby or a toddler.] Come get this fat, spoiled thing, and I'll show you. [This is said (affectionate) rather than (derogatory).
Jason is the textpost meme of holding up the cat and calling it a stinky bastard man while Rupert goes NOOOOOO DON'T BE MEAN!]
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Don't disrespect Porridge like that!
[ it's less offended than it could be because he can tell it wasn't derogatory, at least. he'll come and take him! one dragon obtained.]
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Where's the lie?
[Now that he's free, he will turn to lead Rupert to the little corner nook of North hallway that is Jason's shitty room.]
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[he'll follow, though, curious to see the room.]
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[Jokingly talking about testing the dragon's skill when really he is stupid athletic enough to need to be walked like a dog himself, or he'll get bored.
With the key, Jason unlocks to the door and pushes it open to go in.
Unfortunately, it's the epitome of a stinky bachelor pad in its aesthetics, touched by a hint of city studio apartment. But! It isn't messy! Jason is actually shockingly clean and organized, even if he doesn't look like it. So the room is neat.
The color palette is mostly red, not unlike the symbol on the front of his outfit, something deep and rich. But all his accent colors are black, or a peppering of grey or stainless steel. The queen bed has an iron frame and red sheets, which seem like a weird choice until it's obvious they are red because blood doesn't show up as easily...
The closet isn't too big or too small, and the doors are mirrored, looking out onto the open space of the room. The desk is maybe different from most people's desks: it looks like it can fold up against the wall and out of the way, to make more floor space. But for right now, it's down, and has a collection of the things the hotel as given them.
A separate wall is lined with display cases, each one holding different fake and unmovable weapons--knives, short swords, guns. Around them is a few posters of motorcycles or muscle cars. Another wall has a pull-up bar near the ceiling, a fake flatscreen TV which doesn't work, and a shelf full of a bunch of fake books. The titles are all worldly Earth classics.
The far wall has the only window. The scene outside is a nighttime city few through the runs of a fire escape. There's too much light pollution for most stars, and the moon is peeking from behind a building. But there is... a cone of light in the sky, the middle of it cut out by a stylized bat.]
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What's that?
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He follows Rupert's glance, already assuming he knows what it is based on the window itself being the key feature.]
Bat Signal. It brings out the Batman.
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Batman... Is that some kind of monster? Sounds creepy.
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You could say that technically, I guess. [IT ISN'T.... untrue. Sorta.] He comes out at night to stop criminals.
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Wait... So he's a good monster, then? If he stops criminals.
[this lore...]
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So he waves a hand dismissively.]
I'm fucking with you. It's a man, not a monster. He dresses up in an outfit that looks kind of like a bat, and, yeah, he stops criminals and bad guys. He wants them to think of him like a monster, though. It scares them.
The signal is what the police commissioner uses to call him.
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Sounds weird. Is he the only one stopping criminals? Or do they only call him when there's a really serious problem?
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He cleans up the small stuff sometimes, but lets the police handle those. He mostly deals with the bigger problems. The really dangerous bad guys.
[...]
No, it isn't just him. He prefers to work alone, but he has other people helping him. Robin, Nightwing, Batwoman, a bunch of others.
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[looking a little impressed! but he still seems curious as he continues.]
What makes them more capable than anyone else? I mean, do they have some kind of magic, or are they just a really good team...?
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No, no magic. Batman would loathe to hear you say that, too. He hates magic. [Jason also doesn't much care for magic. It's a Bat thing.] They're capable because they're well-trained.
And they also have a lot of gadgets.
[He'd say they have a lot of money, but maybe that is too on the nose and would give Bruce away. "Rupert doesn't know who the fuck Bruce is." Still.]
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[the height of technology, in his very limited experience.]
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[(bruce, in an annoyed voice) SCIENCE!]
Kind of. A little more advanced and a little more militaristic. Thermal radars, jets, the Batmobile, trackers. Things like that.
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[spoken like someone from a fantasy bullshit world!! anyways. his face makes it clear he understands 0/4 of those things.]
I... see.
[he absolutely doesn't.]
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[Royce didn’t understand a lot of the shit he said either.]
Don’t worry about it.
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[a little self consciously, but he perks up as he continues on.]
But if you wanted to tell me what they are, I bet I'd think they're really cool!
[nerd.]
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I don't know if you'd understand even if I told you what they were. But I could maybe draw them. I'm not an artist.
[I'm a murderer.]
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[can't wait until he draws them and rupert continues to obnoxiously ask what they do.]
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Acting like this is sooo begrudging, he meanders over to the desk to sit down, pull the piece of paper and pen the hotel gave them down. He doesn't want to waste his paper on drawing pointless (to him) stuff, so he uses one corner on the backside.
He does the Batmobile first. It looks like this. Jason isn't a master artist, but he actually draws decently well?
Bats.]
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[swing and a miss!!]
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[He looks at what he drew. Like. Okay. He'll give a quarter of that to Rupert. The Batmobile kind of has a train-ish shape. Sort of.] It's a car. [He wants to say "so close," but it is not close.]
It doesn't run on any rails. Batman drives it. How about this one?
[He will doodle...a jet. The bat jet.]
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