akrowing

[akrowing]

writing-on-the-walls‌:

Watching the fireplace poker lower, Klaus breathed a small sigh of relief but still kept his eyes on the man, knowing damn well not to trust someone still holding a fireplace poker. “Nice to..” His words trailed off as the man seemed to scrutinize him before asking if this was his place. Well, that was mean. “Do I look like I live here?” Klaus asked, tone surprised and more than a little offended. While, yes, he had squatted in a few abandoned houses in his time on the street –he wasn’t living on the street anymore thank-you-very-much. “No. I don’t live here and I don’t know where the exit is. I’m assuming it’s at the bottom of these stairs.” He shook his head, mumbling, “Do you live here”, in a mocking tone under his breath as he moved toward the steps and looked back.

“You coming?” Whether or not this man joined, he was getting out of here.

“Kinda, yeah.” Well, shit. “—Sorry.” He hadn’t expected Klaus to take quite as much offence from his question (whatever, he’ll live). Nevertheless, there was a real sense of disappointment wash over him, shoulders slumping once he realised that they were both lost in the house that looked like it came straight out of an episode of Scooby Doo.

At this point, Dick figured that he didn’t have anything left to lose. The fire poker was hooked onto a belt loop as he followed the other man down the stairs, since they at least shared the same attitude for getting out. “How long’ve you been here?” Please, don’t say days, weeks, months. 

[akrowing]

ovvnwords‌:

“you  know  bruce.”  jason  clings  to  the  name  like  a  lifeline  –  and  he  is,  essentially  ;  it’d  only  been  a  few  weeks  since  the  younger  was  taken  in  as  his  ward,  barely  more  than  three  months  ..  and  yet  the  older  wayne  was  the  only  one  to  really  seemingly  care  (  he’s  brought  him  into  a  home  and  off  the  streets  for  gods  sake  ),  even  if  the  older  brood  doesn’t  show  it  like  they  show  in  movies.  todd’s  never  gotten  many  hugs,  or  affection,  really,  over  the  course  of  the  past  few  years  ..  but  still.  he  only  knows  of  dick  from  his  various  snooping  around  the  manor.  even  so,  dick  doesn’t  know  him  –  and  dick  doesn’t  seem  to  know  of  him,  either.  "y'know  -  bruce  wayne?“

“Bruce? Bruce told you?” Dick didn’t try to mask the incredulity in his voice, trying to decide if he found what he was hearing funny or not, because it had to be a joke. How the fuck did this kid know Bruce Wayne? And why would he be telling people about Dick? Sure, they may have parted on rocky terms, but that wouldn’t explain any of this. “He tell you anything else, or just my name?” He was digging now, needed to know if his identity as ‘Robin’ was now public knowledge, momentarily forgetting that they were still locked up in rickety dust box.

[akrowing]

ovvnwords‌:

dick grayson / closed / @akrowing​.

he  knows  of  dick  grayson  –  he’s  heard  about  the  kid  through  bruce,  of  course.  he’d  never  known  much  more  beyond  the  artificial  facts  that  were  splayed  out  before  him  through  word  of  mouth  or  snooping  around  offices  in  wayne  manor  (  yeah,  he’s  pretty  good  at  that  ).  what  he  doesn’t  expect  is  to  be  trapped  in  some  sort  of  haunted  house  with  grayson  and  various  others  —–  in  fact,  he  didn’t  expect  to  see  grayson  at  all.  "dick?“  eyebrows  furrow,  confused  at  the  sight  of  the  man  before  him.  his  tone  borderlines  on  accusatory  even  though  there’s  no  crime  being  presented  and  the  other  looks  about  as  confused  as  the  rest  of  them.

Anyone calling his name was the very last thing he’d expected after the ordeal of waking up in a house full of strangers which couldn’t escape from. Maybe if it was Bruce or Alfred calling him, he’d be happy to have somebody know who he was, but this boy...? He’d never seen this kid before, and the fact that Dick was known to the stranger was unsettling. Perhaps he would understand if this was Gotham, where he’d sometimes appear in newspapers pictured next to Bruce at one of his charity balls or lavish business events. “Who’re you?” Tone was clipped, curt; brow pulled into a frown as he faced the man who addressed him. “Who told you my name?”

[akrowing]

writing-on-the-walls‌:

Klaus wasn’t sure which was scarier, the potential of a ghost or finding a real live person holding a….fireplace poker. He quickly decided it was the person. Raising his tattooed hands in surrender, Klaus’ gaze went from the man to his weapon of choice then back again. He had been trained for moments like this, but in all honesty, he was a far cry from the highly trained hero he had been forced to be in his youth. Years of drug use had softened him and he liked to think of himself as a sort of pacifist when he wasn’t under threat.

“Woah there,” he stated slowly, his tone calm despite his spike of nerves. “Number –Klaus. Klaus Hargreeves.” He corrected himself quickly, hoping that this wasn’t how he died. Not now when he had finally gotten Dave back. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Dick Grayson,” he reluctantly answered after a long pause, assessing the stranger before him and slowly lowering the poker to his side once he was satisfied that this man wasn’t a threat. At least not an immediate threat.

“This your house? Do you live here?” He looked like the type to live in some dilapidated shit hole like this, untouched by sunlight for weeks. An observation that Dick didn’t intend to voice aloud. “I’m just try’na get out of here, so if you could tell me where the exit is...” he trailed off, expectant. 

[akrowing]

I’m so sorry for being absent since I joined - life got busy. I’ll be on tonight to get as much done as I can!

[akrowing]

writing-on-the-walls‌:

This was not the first time Klaus had ever woken up somewhere without remembering how he had gotten there. Hell, it wasn’t even the fifth or twentieth time for that matter, but it was the first time doing so sober. Okay, not the first, but the second. Sitting up, he looked around, panic already beginning to bubble up within him. This place was creepy and not in a cool Halloween haunted house kind of creepy –a kind of creepy he didn’t even enjoy. No. This was derelict building, am I going to be murdered kind of creepy with a hint of oh hell this place has got to be haunted. Though, that wasn’t a surprise. A lot of places were haunted. Like the grocery store and the bakery a block from his place, but this place had that horror movie haunted kinda vibe. So, naturally, Klaus was more than ready to get the fuck out.

Without so much as a second thought, he stood, one hand touching the dog tags he wore –as he so often did– while he made his way out the room and down the hall. With every creak, he jumped, a small startled sound escaping him here and there. He fought the urge to peek into the other rooms, wanting to put as much space between him and this place as soon as possible but just as he neared the stairs, he heard a loud creak behind him. Instantly, his mind went through all the fucked up things he would see when he turned. A woman with a broken neck, a man with his throat slashed open, two creepy twin girls holding hands, Zoya Papova… He almost didn’t want to turn but then he remembered that ghosts don’t make noise when they moved. Sure they spoke a lot and even screamed, but their steps were silent. Taking in a breath, he turned, a small scream already escaping him as he saw it was…a person.

“Christ on a cracker!

He was over it. It wasn’t funny anymore. Waking up in God knows where wasn’t funny anymore. But this place? This place seemed like God himself had turned his back on it. Everything was damp and dusty, as though nobody had been here for years. The air in the house was cold enough to leave goosebumps on his skin as he carefully searched for a way out. Doors and windows which would lead outside appeared to be locked, some windows were even boarded up entirely. 

Beyond looking as though the last resident’s moved out last century, Dick felt as though someone was right behind him from the moment he came-to. He couldn’t explain it other than having a ‘feeling’ that someone was looking over his shoulder, or as though the walls were looming over him. The moment he heard the faint shuffling of someone — or something — out in the hall, Dick quickly reached for the nearest thing that could act as a weapon; a dusty, cast iron fire poker would have to do.

He was able to move without making much noise at all, trained in being as silent as possible, though there was no accounting for old houses that creaked when the wind so much as tickled their rickety frames. There was always one floorboard that would screech under even the lightest of footsteps. His only solace in the situation was that the man at the top of the stairs seemed more unsettled than he was himself.

“Who the fuck are you?”

[akrowing]

[brenton thwaites. cismale. he/him. dc] i’d like to welcome dick grayson to browning harbor. i’ve heard a rumor that the twenty-seven year old sports therapist has some of his memories. friends describe him as empathetic but hot-headed.

hey yalls! im blue / 27 / they/them / gmt. vv excited to be here and get to know everyone. down to plot 25/8 and can be reached at dicks sticks#7820 on dcord, or here via messages. 

i’ve decided to have dick not recall his nightwing alias, remembering only vaguely that he might have moved on from being Robin. as far as he is concerned, that was still his position with bruce before appearing in browning harbor.

➞ richard ‘dick’ john grayson ➞ 27, pisces ➞ orphaned as a child after the murder of his parents, adopted soon after by bruce wayne ➞ the OG boy wonder, expertly trained in several disciplines ➞ treats his job/alias with great seriousness ➞ huge heart and warm soul, despite his tiny temper. 

[akrowing]

hey yall! i’m blue & this is dick. i’m heading out to college rn but i’ll have a proper intro posted when i get home. looking forward to writing with everyone!

[akrowing]

titans (2018–)

[akrowing]

tag pile

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