it's fine, jason doesn't give a shit. just lets himself fall for a moment before he's twisting himself around and firing a grapple gun he'd had in his jacket up. grabs with both hands just in time to prevent it from throwing out his shoulder, then follows the wall on up. he's not tarzan, this way is just more fun than jumping from kyle's window. )
( an ugly snort that breaks into a soft little laugh, but. he's following his own invisible path through central city, hauling himself from roof to roof. )
( is kyle really expecting jason to have followed him enough to know all of his life stories. maybe he does have intermittent access to the batcomputer, but there's so much shit to read through as-is just going through the gothamites. )
[ no, that hadn't been it. at one point, it had been thrilling. an easy fix for everything. no one needed to bleed out and suffer. simple. easy. but it had been talking to the spectre — talking to hal that made him give it up.
the second time around . . . kyle glances at his hands. at one point, he was sure he was just made of stardust. all that kept him human was gone. all that was keeping him human . . . existed on the edge of a knife. ]
( it's enough of a reaction that jason slows down until he stops in the middle of the rooftop. tilts his head to the side in what's as close to an inquisitive look as he can get when his face is fully covered. )
gross not because of kyle's cosmic horror bullshit. gross because he's standing here considering listening to it. because despite their bitching, fighting, and jason's want to shove his fist into kyle's face whenever he opens his mouth, jason would still consider them friends enough to call him one. which is gross. but also cements-- )
Does it matter? 've got functioning ears and I probably won't tune you out.
( he'll argue that fair's fair, kyle listened to him bitch and clearly that's the only reason he'll stand here and listen to him yap on. but it's not. )
[ it is absolutely gross, but this is the most honest he's been since coming here. no one here knows him or wants to. and while kyle is way past the stage where he requires recognition as a green lantern, as a person, it simply widens the gulf.
but he knew that. he knew it would be like this. he was better off in space, alone. but did he want to be? or is it simply what life should be? ]
( it's a complicated question and not one he expected with space horror. or maybe he should have, given the lack of humans out there. aside from kyle and hal and--wasn't there another one? that's not important. )
Yeah. ( like dying brought him back as something else. like he can't squeeze into the nice little square boxes labeled human. not in the same context as kyle means it he's sure. and it's--less often these days than it used to be. )
Like I don't fit right anywhere. Not alive, not dead. Not right, not wrong. Like something else climbed outta my grave wearing my old skin. ( that got dark. he's half between trying to roll it off with a snarky comment but this isn't jason todd o'clock, so. ) Space hit you hard?
[ like he's walking in a dream. when he was ion, he couldn't dream. he couldn't sleep. kyle would lie awake, living in everyone's head, everyone's dream. ]
You're right in that there's no one left in my life. There's nothing tethering me to — to anything. But I guess I keep it up because there should be something to being Kyle Rayner. Some kind of living.
( what should have been snarky but it comes out more. even-toned. coming at kyle too hard when he's clearly having a feeling might not be the best way to handle this.
but they're skipping out on recon for now. so jason leans back against the outside part of an hvac system. )
Kyle Rayner's whatever you want it to be. There's no rule to existing. An' if there was, we've broken them at least a dozen times by now. So fuck 'em.
( this is probably the opposite direction someone should go when confronting the 'there should be something to being me' shit but jason never said he was any good at peptalks. )
[ kyle shoots him a look because he definitely caught that tone, but he lets it slide instead of calling him out on it. instead he rolls his shoulders, twisting the ring on his finger. ]
It's not about the rules, though. It's about — In the end, can anyone say they really knew us?
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I'm not a nightlight and it doesn't work like that.
[ kyle is not perpetually glowing. ]
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( snorting, but he's climbing up onto the window sill again anyway. shoves his hood down over his head. )
You suck at stealth.
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[ he's not interested in becoming the next dude in assassin's creed. how he does things works. ]
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( jason settles his weight on the balls of his feet, crouched down in the window frame, and--
kicks off of it. bye loser, he's going the fun way. )
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[ kyle's heard it all before. with the light dimmed, he simply steps out and glides through the air, silent. ]
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it's fine, jason doesn't give a shit. just lets himself fall for a moment before he's twisting himself around and firing a grapple gun he'd had in his jacket up. grabs with both hands just in time to prevent it from throwing out his shoulder, then follows the wall on up. he's not tarzan, this way is just more fun than jumping from kyle's window. )
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How far is it?
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I haven't been here a week an' you expect me to know where shit happens?
( he does. that's not the point. )
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Because you're a control freak who doesn't know how to have a life?
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Like you're any better.
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( another large jump, but this time he does a little roll once he hits the next building. his poor jacket. )
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Not exactly micro-managing anyone now, am I?
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( is kyle really expecting jason to have followed him enough to know all of his life stories. maybe he does have intermittent access to the batcomputer, but there's so much shit to read through as-is just going through the gothamites. )
Only so much having power can do for you.
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the second time around . . . kyle glances at his hands. at one point, he was sure he was just made of stardust. all that kept him human was gone. all that was keeping him human . . . existed on the edge of a knife. ]
Something like that.
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You wanna talk about it?
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You want to hear about my cosmic horror shenanigans? I think that's a bit out of your wheelhouse.
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gross not because of kyle's cosmic horror bullshit. gross because he's standing here considering listening to it. because despite their bitching, fighting, and jason's want to shove his fist into kyle's face whenever he opens his mouth, jason would still consider them friends enough to call him one. which is gross. but also cements-- )
Does it matter? 've got functioning ears and I probably won't tune you out.
( he'll argue that fair's fair, kyle listened to him bitch and clearly that's the only reason he'll stand here and listen to him yap on. but it's not. )
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but he knew that. he knew it would be like this. he was better off in space, alone. but did he want to be? or is it simply what life should be? ]
You ever felt you weren't human enough anymore?
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Yeah. ( like dying brought him back as something else. like he can't squeeze into the nice little square boxes labeled human. not in the same context as kyle means it he's sure. and it's--less often these days than it used to be. )
Like I don't fit right anywhere. Not alive, not dead. Not right, not wrong. Like something else climbed outta my grave wearing my old skin. ( that got dark. he's half between trying to roll it off with a snarky comment but this isn't jason todd o'clock, so. ) Space hit you hard?
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[ like he's walking in a dream. when he was ion, he couldn't dream. he couldn't sleep. kyle would lie awake, living in everyone's head, everyone's dream. ]
You're right in that there's no one left in my life. There's nothing tethering me to — to anything. But I guess I keep it up because there should be something to being Kyle Rayner. Some kind of living.
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( what should have been snarky but it comes out more. even-toned. coming at kyle too hard when he's clearly having a feeling might not be the best way to handle this.
but they're skipping out on recon for now. so jason leans back against the outside part of an hvac system. )
Kyle Rayner's whatever you want it to be. There's no rule to existing. An' if there was, we've broken them at least a dozen times by now. So fuck 'em.
( this is probably the opposite direction someone should go when confronting the 'there should be something to being me' shit but jason never said he was any good at peptalks. )
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It's not about the rules, though. It's about — In the end, can anyone say they really knew us?
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( hood off once more, because if they're not causing problems he wants to not have his hair stuck to the sides of his face. )
But what's the alternative? Not even try?
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Earth is . . . hard. Trying to live like this, like I've forgotten how to.
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