Tim Drake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
detectivewonder) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-04-27 04:33 am
detectivewonder) wrote in driftfleet2015-04-27 04:33 am
Entry tags:
First Breath Mingle!
Who: The crew of the First Breath + visitors.
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: Aboard the First Breath or in station docking bays.
When: 4/25-4/31.
[Every week, regular as clockwork, Tim has a new plan to up ratings - although he doesn't put it like that to anyone out loud. This week, it's a bonding activity for the whole crew - painting their shuttles bright, custom colors. For his part, he doesn't have a color scheme in mind - he's focused on detail work, adding snarling mouths to their front, and impressive fictionalized kill tallies on their sides. If they might face raiders again, every little thing they can do to make themselves more impressive could coutn for a lot...]
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: Aboard the First Breath or in station docking bays.
When: 4/25-4/31.
[Every week, regular as clockwork, Tim has a new plan to up ratings - although he doesn't put it like that to anyone out loud. This week, it's a bonding activity for the whole crew - painting their shuttles bright, custom colors. For his part, he doesn't have a color scheme in mind - he's focused on detail work, adding snarling mouths to their front, and impressive fictionalized kill tallies on their sides. If they might face raiders again, every little thing they can do to make themselves more impressive could coutn for a lot...]
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[He hadn't thought this through. He wonders, for a moment, how he'd look with a buzz cut, then shakes his head. If Steph needs the help, then he can swallow his uncertainty and be a gentleman. Which means not staring at her. He takes a deep breath, slipping out of his shoes, and looks sidelong her direction. Something's off.]
Sorry if I'm... nervous.
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It's fine. Just don't, like... bolt or anything, okay? I'd take that kind of personally.
[ Get it together, Steph. It's not that big a deal. She takes a deep breath, and pulls off her shirt as quickly as she can without getting more paint all over herself. Her bra is staying on for the moment - if nothing else, because she's sure if she takes it off Tim really will bolt - but it does exactly nothing to hide the mess of fresh scars covering her torso. A messy exit wound on her left shoulder, an inches-long stab wound on her right; dozens of clean scalpel cuts interspersed with ragged circular holes, most of those directly over bone...
Steph's eyes skate over Tim, watching him without going anywhere near meeting his eyes. It's not like he's never seen scars before, and she's sure he's got plenty of his own, but... this is different. ]
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[He takes a deep breath as she pulls her top off, stripping his own shirt off at the same moment just to break eye contact, to stop himself from turning so red he might explode.
For a moment, he doesn't see the scars. He just sees her, and even paint-spattered and tousled she takes his breath away. But then he sees the way she's looking at him or not looking at him, and he realizes. It makes him self-conscious about his own new scars - the whorls of burn scars on his shoulder, the fresh slashes across stomach and chest from Ra's al Ghul and other assassins... but then he sees, really sees.
It isn't the marks that bother him. It's the thought of what happened to her, spelled out so plainly. But he doesn't flinch.]
Steph...
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It's fine. I mean, everything's healed, so... [ So all she's got are the constant reminders. No big deal. Steph shakes her head and smiles wryly. ] This is so not how this kind of thing usually goes in my head...
But you should be shirtless more often. Like, all the time. It'd be great for ratings.
[ She shimmies out of her jeans, down to her underwear, and turns pointedly toward the shower. Washing off now. Dealing with the rest of it... can happen later. Or never. Steph's okay with never. ]
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The Three Twins is already chasing that angle. I can't compete.
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Well then it would just make me happy...
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Fiiine. I guess you're right... [ Spoilsport. ]
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There's, uh, there are some streaks on your back.
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You wanna help me with that?
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I might need help, too. I can't really tell.
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Yeah. That's totally fine.
I'll check you out if you'll deal with... whatever I can't reach?
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[He steps behind her, carefully, trying to keep his hips angled so that Steph doesn't get a good look at him, given the way his boxers are clinging. Then he's running his hands over her back, testing - most of it comes off at a touch, but he rubs, gently, where he needs to, moving down slowly from her shoulders, pausing awkwardly when her bra strap is in the way.]
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She looks over her shoulder when he hesitates, her expression half a dare. ]
You can move that, you know.
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