6301/Getting into the New Routine

Getting into the New Routine
Date of Scene:	28 January 2019
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Carrie Kelley, Nightwing

---

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"You know," Kestrel remarks idly as they pause on a rooftop that gives a decent view of the not-so-far-off zoo. "That's where I first started doing this stuff. I mean, jumping in to try and help a bit. When those alien mushroom things were around." It's a small memory from not too long ago, but given it was really before she started getting her intensive dojo training from her sifu, it was perhaps all the more dangerous that she'd even tried. "Of course I was just testing things out to see what might help kill them. Antifungals, and such. I just tried to stay out of the way otherwise."

Casting a glance back at Nightwing she gives a shrug. "It just feels weird to think that was less than a year ago."

Nightwing has posed:
    "Oh yeah?" Nightwing remarks, his voice modulated to sound almost robotic, with a metallic flange, but still holding Grayson's natural sort of lighthearted charisma to the tone. He's no Batman. At least not right now. "I didn't know that. Figured you were all about Gotham."

    Grayson, in his sleek blue-on-black costume, strides up to the ledge and takes a roost upon it. He looks through slightly aglow, blank white eyes down at the zoo, not so far away. "When I came here, it was to get away from Gotham. Strike out on my own and make my own mark in the world. You might be surprised to hear this from me, but... The shadow of the Bat can be a weight on your shoulders, constantly dragging you down. Honestly, even he gets lost in the shadows of the cowl from time to time. So this city..."

    He shrugs his broad shoulders.

    "It's liberation to me."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"Only out of stubborness," Kestrel replies in regards to being all about Gotham with an indifferent shrug. "I've been in New York and spent time in Starling City as well. Found Green Arrow to be a bit too reckless with the bombs for my liking."

She watches as Nightwing goes to crouch in that perching position wondering half-heartedly if her own outfit would inspire such familiarity one day. It wasn't much so far; just brick red and black. No logo, no particularily striking design. It was workable and sufficient for training on patrols for now.

"Yeah, I can imagine."

Stepping to the edge herself she crouches down to shift with one leg hanging off the ledge and her arm draping over the bent knee of the other. "I feel like I've gotten as far away from my parents as I possibly can at this point. It's nice."

Nightwing has posed:
    For the moment, Nightwing remains silent. Attentive. He tends to do that a lot. Let her talk, more than he does. He's not stoic or brooding. He's just a quiet listener when she feels like sharing stuff with him. So, he gives a faint nod of his head when she mentions her time with Green Arrow. A small half formed smirk graces his lips, but nothing more is given. He plays his cards close to the chest when it comes to Ollie and Dinah and that whole crew.

    "I don't really know anything about you, or your parents," he says, after another long moment of silence. Slowly, he shifts to settle onto his rear, letting both legs drape loosely over the ledge, where he idly kicks his heels back and forth. "As you get older, though, you'll find that the distance starts to feel cold and empty. Even if they're... flawed. Even if they could arguably be abusive. You learn to forgive. Your heart grows softer and more nostalgic. In time, you yearn for making up that distance. Which is why I do what I do, now. I'm my own person. I made my own name and have come out of that stiffling shadow of the Bat... but I don't... I no longer feel the need to assert my independence. I want to have him in my life again. There was a time where I was almost violently opposed to that."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The words are considered quietly in turn by Kestrel only to give a nod. "I can see that. Maybe someday it'll matter again, but... In my case I don't think so. Not for a long while. They weren't abusive really, they just weren't there." Glancing skyward she gets a little pop out of her neck, and so rolls it side to side to ease out any further kinks she wasn't entirely aware of yet in the chill of the evening air.

"They still sometimes leave me voicemails telling me I'm on my own for dinner tonight. Last one was a month ago." There's a wry grin from her before she adds, "I haven't lived with them for over a year and a half. That shows you how much they pay attention."

Nightwing has posed:
    "It could mean that they're negligent," Dick says, giving a faint nod of his head. His lips, though, become that thin, straight line that happens when he's deep in thought, or when something bothers him. "Or it could be that they miss you, so leaving you messages like you're still around is a way for them to deal with the fact that you're not. Maybe you should talk to them."

    Now, he turns his head to look at her. That thin line becomea a small smile, but even with the mask obscuring the windows of his soul, the bittersweet sorrow on his handsome features. "Take it from a guy whose parents were murdered when he was just a little kid... You have an opportunity left to mend that distance and bring them closer to you. And you can ask Ti--You can ask Red Robin... Sometimes, our loved ones are taken from us without warning, and completely outside of our ability to control. So you might not have a tomorrow to do so. I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life, though."

    He shrugs his shoulders and then leans his head back, casting his blank white eyed stare up at the night time sky overhead. "Just kind of talking, you know? I'm not sure what I'd do if I were in your shoes."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel dips her head down to lift a gloved hand to run over her brow. Not quite rubbing her eyes, but close to it. Her lips are pursed in a thin line as well though in more of a troubled grimace. "Yeah. Maybe. I guess this isn't a good topic for any of us, huh? Parents I mean. Sorry for bringing it up."

"Can I ask you something? Not to be weird or anything, and don't take it the wrong way..." She trails off a moment, hand falling away from her face. A deep breath is taken before she lets out the question in a rush.

"Could you scratch between my shoulders? This zipper is driving me crazy how the hell do you deal with it?" There's a little writhing wiggle from her as her shoulders scrunch up with the familiar 'creeping itch' motion that she knew she couldn't reach properly. "Like seriously is there a way to avoid that?"

Nightwing has posed:
    Nightwing shrugs his shoulders when she apologizes about bringing up parents, and his smile brightens to something resembling actual cheer. "It's no big deal. I've had a long time to come to terms with the death of my parents, and the strange relationship I have with my adopted father. As your..."

    Finger quotes.

    "Mentor."

    A pause.

    "I'm just trying to show you that you have opportunities that you might not see just because you're too close to the situation. And provide insight from another point of view," he finishes, even as he reaches over and gives the zipper on the back of her costume a firm yank, bringing it down to about the midway point in her back. He then grips the tip of his middle finger between his teeth, tugging the glove off of his hand so that his nails are ready for the scratching of her back that follows. Smirking, he remarks, "The first thing is to get a front zipping suit. It's easier to deal with against your throat than at your nape. The second suggestion I have? Escrima sticks make for great backscratchers in a pinch."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel nods as she listens, trying very hard not to think about that caterpillar crawling up her spine sensation. It would only make it worse. A slight grin of relief is offered when he assures her that it wasn't as sore a subject for him as she'd feared. "That's good to know--" she begins only to cut off with a little hiss of surprised air sucked in between her teeth. She'd said scratch not pull it down!

But then the actual scratching starts. That little surge of indignant anger fades as the annoying itch is dealt with leaving her head hanging forward with a mumbling groan of appreciation. "Mmgodthat'sguh..."

Ahem.

Trying to reclaim some semblance of not being a total doofus, she clears her throat and tries again. "Thanks, that helps. I guess I didn't think of a front zip suit. I usually have to make stuff so that zippers and buttons don't show unless it's supposed to." Hm. Theater flaw. She'd fix that next time. "I guess escrima sticks are better than a slingshot, anyway," she teases more of her own small weapon of choice.

Nightwing has posed:
    "You hide the zipper with a fold over front with a magnetic closure. Nice, clean, and looks mostly seamless. Obviously it works better on black than on red, but..." He replies, as his nails wander over her back, dragging just deep enough to leave pink streaks in their wake, crisscrossing her flesh in random groups of four lines. "It'll get the job done, at least."

    After a quick pat, he tugs the zipper back up and smooths it over to make sure that it's all nicely fit and neat again, before slipping his glove back on over his hand.

    "We should work on getting you a good and proper suit, anyway. Something really designed for the field, and not for superhero theater. My advice? Skip a cape. All the years I wore one, and still, to this day, it feels... draggy. Is that even a word? But the weight of it is not worth the benefit of disguising your profile."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Once the suit is zipped up properly again she reaches up to tug at her collar readjusting it just a tad. That did help though. "Yeah. I've got some bodyarmor that he got me fitted for, but mostly I'm just.... winging it." Did she really just do that? On purpose? Judging by the cheesey grin she takes on she might have meant that pun very well. This was far more suitable a suit than her original few, with the additions of actual protective gear, but it could still use some refining.

"Think we should call it a night? Or is there anywhere else we should check in on before realizing it's pretty dead out for once?"

Nightwing has posed:
    The pun makes Dick groan and throw back his head dramatically, his midnight hair flopping out of its pristine placement and hanging loose and free. Nonetheless, he does lift a hand to point a finger gun in her direction and "fire" it at her with a click of his tongue against the back of his teeth. "That... outright hurt my pancreas. I mean, really. I'm fairly certain that pun just robbed me of seven minutes of my lifespan."

    "Well..." He starts, considering their options. It was pretty dead in the immediate sense. However, this is Bludhaven, and there is always... something.

    "Why don't you tell me a bit about your previous teacher? What did they teach you and how were you training? We can talk while moving to a crime scene about a mile down the road. There was a homicide earlier at the start of the night, and the detectives and forensics crews should just about be clearing out until the morning. We might find some evidence they missed."