shitposting rave 5: discount rejects from every genre

-Cassandra poofs into the rave. It's been a while rave-time, and apparently even longer for her. Her purple is almost completely gone, down to a very faded hint at the very tips of her hair, though it's hard to see because of the dried blood-and-other-things-better-left-unconsidered. Her clothes are a ripped, torn collection of various stains layered for coverage. Her axe, only the cutting edge left unmarred, is gripped in her left hand like she's not sure she remembers how to let go (she isn't).

Injury tally: Jesus shit. Notably there's makeshift bandaging over burns on her right arm, and a human-mouth bitemark on the elbow. Everything else is a collection of scratches and bruises. She looks like she hasn't slept in a year, and there's something dark to the black behind her eyes, like there's something looking out that's not just her-

mng. -it's all she can manage until she almost drips over a discarded takeout container and holy shit real actual food. She makes grabby hands in the food-smell direction and manages to rasp out something that sounds enough like "gimme." What are manners? Something for people who haven't been ass deep in zombies for 10 months-

 

"By all means, come eat."

 

[He abruptly stands and starts pacing, because he can't think when sitting still.]
Look, I get it, you think I'm an idiot about this and you're not even the only one. I am and idiot about the kid, which doesn't actually surprise anyone. I've always been the bleeding heart of the family. Doesn't mean I'm gonna lie to myself and pretend everyone cares as much about me as I do about them!
I'm not looking for you to tell me it's a good idea, because I know it's a bad idea. But I can't force him to get better and if nothing else works violence is a not ideal but it fucking works sometimes. It wouldn't even be any different than our usual sparring matches. This is just one of the ways we bond as family. Because sometimes playing house feels fake. If you want the picture perfect brother you're looking in the wrong place. But that's why I can deal with Robin where others can't. Because I know what it's like to be the loose cannon and I know that no one can help you away from that if you don't want the help. He doesn't trust affection. But he does trust his own fists. And I trust him. And that's as good as it's gonna get at the moment.

 

-sweet potato noodles are shoved in her face. She's not sure she wants to navigate around Bats and Haku for kimchi. She does drop the axe (very slowly, since she has to remove one finger at a time; her hand has frozen as a claw around the handle) to make grabby hands in their direction though-

 

Lissa tilts her head to one side. "I don't think you're an idiot; I think you love him and you don't know what else to do with him, but I also think you could accidentally be reinforcing the things that he doesn't need reinforced. You said family is not about love, but you're wrong. Without love, what good is it? And sparring is fine, we do that too in my house, it's just not how we deal with our feelings, cause...that's kinda dangerous, you know? I just don't know what you want out of this conversation. I keep saying I'll drop it and you keep responding. Do you want my perspective or not?"

 

[He gives a distracted nod of 'go ahead' in her direction. Continues pacing though. Can't think while still. In fact he'd probably be climbing some sort of scaffolding or swinging on silks right now if he wasn't in polite company.]

That's not news. Of course I love him. He's my little brother. But even if I didn't and he sure as hell doesn't love me much, he's still my little brother. I would save Hood's life five seconds after he attempted to shoot me in the head. In fact I've done so, because we're family and even if I don't love him very much right that second that doesn't change. It's not as simple as just love. Robin doesn't need to create anything or meditate some more or smash some vases. He needs someone who won't leave no matter how difficult or inconvenient or vicious he gets. He needs to be able to really kick against the boundaries so he can be sure I won't abandon and replace him. Because that's what his mom did and what I will never do. If anythign I'm the replaceable one.
That's what I think had me so hung up about this. So thanks! At least now I know what the wrong thing was that annoyed me!
[He gives her a closed mouthed smile that looks approximately as genuine as a sugar pearl necklace. At least he slows down his pacing a little.]

 

thats a good idea! the sub bubble thing, i could try it sometime :)
a lot of the time the running does involve teleporting if i need to go REALLY far :p it doesnt always stop the biting though

 

Lissa sighs. "That kind of commitment doesn't happen without love. And of course it doesn't matter if he reciprocates. He's the kid. Kits come into the world full of love because they need us or they'll die. They love us because we are food and warmth and comfort and safety, not because they decided to. They only learn adult, committed love from receiving it."

 

-she stacks up a few boxes of takeout and begins devouring them. There are tears now because she hasn't had spicy food in approximately an age but that's not slowing her down at all. Her face looks like an apple under the dirt and dried viscera-

 

[He actually cracks up at that. It doesn't sound particularly nice.]
Don't suggest that to him he will maul you.
You can't deal with a kid that learned to be self sufficient without ever receiving affection by trying to treat them like they need you. Because they don't. They may allow you to carry some of the burden but not if you take it out of their hands before they're ready. That just makes you a threat. Real life is rarely like a fairy tale about Cinderella finding her prince and being happily ever after with a finger snap and some magic words. Sometimes the prince is just an equally fucked up circus kid and their ending is covering eachother's backs. Sometimes safe or committed aren't possible. Sometimes the scars don't stop hurting no matter what. And expecting the impossible from people isn't something family does. Difficult things, yes, but not the impossible.

[He runs a hand through his hair again, sighing.]
Hey, you alright over there?

 

-with her mouth full- The last thing I ate was a handful of wild violets and half a cockroach because I didn't feel like picking a fight with a bear.

-and now, not- Also there are zombies. I didn't even know Knox county had that many people.

 

-a gently singed and lightly perforated Chell nods at her-

 

-offers her one of the hoarded takeout boxes- Have you had spicy food before? -remembering this is the girl who didn't know what strawberries were-

 

Spoiler: Pseudo incestuous vibes?

-throws an arm around Dick's shoulder and pills him in close, forcing him to stop pacing, and leans in to press an obnoxiously loud kiss on his cheek. Genuine expressions of emotion what's that, this is just to be annoying and has nothing whatsoever to with comforting Dick a little-
Awww, big bro. That's sweet of you to worry about us.

 

I found some noodles with something called spice chilli powder once?
-takes, noms-
Thanks. -her eyes water but Food-

 

"That isn't something you say to children at all," Lissa says, and gives him the oddest scrunched-up face, one ear flicked to the side. "They can't handle it. They don't want to think of themselves as helpless even when they actually are. Nobody does. That's why I said it to you, not him."

She shakes her head. "Talking to you is like trying to talk through water. That's why I always ask if you want to stop. You think I believe in Cinderella stories? I used to be an assassin. I didn't get out of it until I was nineteen. My husband is a chaos mage and his brother is a mob boss, and we're facing a goddamn alien invasion while my husband's demon ex plays merry havoc with us all. I know what fucked up is. I know the scars keep hurting. I also know that you already are committed. You are committed like a parent is committed. And that is a good thing. But I feel like there's this whole thing I don't know about going on and it feels like something unhealthy and painful that makes the scars go deeper than they already are, and I can't just tell you what you want to hear. I don't know what you want to hear, and I probably wouldn't say it even if I did know." She shrugs. "I'm done. If you want to keep talking to me by all means go on, but I may not have anything else to say back."

 

Lissa cracks up. That is something that Stanley would do.

 

That's babytongue stuff. This is closer to real Spicy Shit. Doesn't have any of those little red devil peppers in it though. -thumbs up because yes, she knows the feel. She'd eat anything not in an advanced state of decay right now-

 

[Thunderwing sneakily tries to steal one of the remaining boxes of noodles. Stealthily. So quietly. Don't mind the sixty-foot-tall insectoid robot hooking one serrated claw into this unattended pile of food to try it for himself. Shhh. It's his now. Even if these skinny things are weird and flexible.]

 

Yeesh, Zombies are the worst.
And yeah dude, eat however much you want, violets and cockroaches are so not filling.

[He grins, more tired than not]
Seems like I'm not the only one here with a few holes too many.

Spoiler: pseudo incestuous vibes

Calling me sweet and not even giving me a real kiss? You're breaking my heart, li'l wing.
[He leans into the contact like it's the only thing anchoring him to the earth, arm sneaking around Jason's waist and pressing his nose into the crook of his neck briefly before tilting his head up and smiling brilliantly. And challengingly.]

[He softens a little if only because being in Jason's arms always makes things at least a little more bearable. He's a ridiculous, incorrigible squishy-feelings idiot after all.]
I think what you're not seeing is that no one is making Robin do anything, including getting better.
I'm not going to double down on making him crochet or dragging him to trapeze practice if that's not what he needs. What he needs is someone who won't abandon him no matter what he needs to feel better, even if what he needs right that moment is throwing an eskrima stick at my head and watching me dodge it and roll my eyes and carry on like business as usual. Or put me on my back and punch me on the nose and wait for me to make a bad joke about it. Sometimes what a kid needs is to be the worst version of themselves before they can get better.