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Roleplaying Log: Upgrade
Participants
IC Details
Synopsis:

Dick gives Dinah an updated suit. They decide to go out on patrol to test it out.

Other Characters Referenced: Batman Batgirl Punisher Red Robin
IC Date: October 02, 2019
IC Location: FRP Rooms - FRP Room - 1 (Canary Cave)
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 02 Oct 2019 06:09
Rating & Warnings:
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* OOC Time: Tue Oct 01 23:04:14 2019 *

* * *

At the Canary Cave….

(cue Canary Cave theme music)

Dick Grayson is at a desk with multiple high-tech tools surrounding what looks to be a black and more protected version of Dinah's Black Canary attire. He did say he was going to give her some fresh gear! Especially since her stuff burned down, this was a chance for Nightwing to try and give her some protection against the criminal elements.

So, after a moment, Dick takes off his gloves and he takes a breath. "Hey Dinah! You around?" He gets up out of his chair. He's currently wearing a black T-shirt with blue jeans and bare feet. You know, just in case Dinah feels like kicking him for a flirty quip or something that she didn't like. A spar can happen at any time!

….Now he just hopes he likes the surprise he has for her.

* * *

Someone flings a beer bottle at Dick. Well— in his direction, anyway. The pile of clothing in the corner shifts and moves. It turns out to be Dinah, buried in a nest of $5 throw blankets from Walmart and curled up on the ancient sofa she keeps in the cave.

"Christ, what time is it?" she demands, slurring her words. Dinah peers owlishly at Dick and starts pushing her way out of the nest of blankets. She's in faded blue and white striped sleeping shorts and a faded grey tee, with 'Gotham High' barely visible in washed out navy blue letters.

"Oh. Hey Dick," she says, as if she hadn't just winged a bottle at him. The blonde rubs her palms against her face and pulls her bed-headed blonde hair behind her neck in a ponytail. "Did I forget a patrol or something? What're you doing here?"

* * *

Dick catches the beer bottle before he looks at the clock. CHRIST its early in the morning. He kinda looks just a -little- bit guilty at waking her up at this hour, but he was also surprised that she didn't find a couch or even a table that she could rest in. Instead, its a nest of blankets. At least they're comfortable.

"Well, good morning sunshine. I see you've had amazing dreams of high school." He winks at her playfully before he gestures her over. "Come over here and see, I've got a surprise for you." He stands next to his table as he yawns a little.

"I mean, you probably did. Slacker. Making me do all the heavy lifting…" Yes, he's just being a playful little brat. "Just finishing up a little something for you and keepin' my word in the meantime. Check it out and tell me what you think."

If she came over, she'd see the new suit that Dick made for her. Appearance wise, its definitely darker and he even kept the fishnets, because he never quite understood her liking fishnets, but hey, when you have legs like that, it doesn't matter.

* * *

Dinah twists and stretches, and violently cracks her neck halfway towards Dick's spot. She finds a pair of flipflops to step into on the way, and steps up next to him with an owlish blinking at the assembled gear.

"I got my five buck's worth out of the PE gear," Dinah mumbles at him, defensively. "Speaking of high school, are these— Dickie, I'm not wearing fishnets 'nymore," she tells him. "Last thing I wanna do is lay down my next bike while I'm running around in short shorts. Remember? When Fries busted out of Arkham, and I ran right into that patch of ice on 5th street?" She twists a heel out and looks down at her calf, as if checking for road rash.

A hand reaches out to test the flex and thickness of the garmet. The leotard itself is in keeping with what she wears.

"Shit, you really went all out," she mumbles. "Is this that aramid kevlar stuff? I heard the army was using it for next-gen bodyarmor. Where'd you even get this made?"

* * *

Dick chuckles just a little bit. "Was a being a bit greedy? Yes, maybe. But, I figure it was a nice blast to the past to include. Plus, I do really like your legs." AAAAND there's the blatant flirting. He knows they had a conversation about timing, but does that mean that Dick can't admire?

"Aramid Kevlar. Anti-ballistic to small arms with increased durability, fireproof, resistance to blunt force trauma, a thick hide to defend against slashing and stabbing…" Dick starts listing off some of the key features.

"Well, I had a trusted source provide the material while I worked with a trusted advisor on making this bad girl up and ready for you. Though uh, let me know how it fits. I may or may not have guessed on the sizes just a little bit." Of course Dick needs to have his secrets, it helps him stay mysterious!

"So…what do you think? and I definitely remember the Freeze incident. Couldn't feel my arm for a week, remember? I tried to cover for you and I missed like a moron? Broke sooo many bones that night. Good times."

* * *

"Well, that's what you get for trying to jump off a moving truck," Dinah murmurs. She's examining the garment, testing the fit and pull, the strength of the stitching. Dinah picks it up and starts walking away, heading towards the bathroom. A locker's opened and some leggings are removed, black with a gold fishnet stitch pattern. A few of the threads are frayed and worn out, through heavy use or saving her skin from being ground off in a wreck.

Dinah goes into the bathroom and starts changing, leaving the door open a crack so she can continue to talk to Dick. "Insurance came back finally. Said they'd cover the house," she says, raising her voice to be heard clearly. "So at least I got that goin'."

A beat. "Gotham PD had any leads on the arsonists yet?" she inquires. Their investigation on the masked side had hit a bit of a dead end.

* * *

Dick is as much of a gentleman that he's not going to try and peek through the door. That'd just be BEGGING to die, and Dick doesn't want to get kicked by Dinah. Though he did hear from a villain that it was awesome. Regardless of this, Dick leans against the desk just a little bit as she reveals that insurance will cover the house.

"Fan-freaking-tastic Dinah. Thats great news." Dick may or may not have had a part in it, but he absolutely didn't. Really. HONEST. Stop looking at this so inquisitively!

"As for the arsonists…" He sighs audibly. "No, not really. They've hit a bit of a dead end too. Maybe we should check where the trail went cold again, see if we missed anything."

* * *

"Goddamnit," Dinah says. But it's more weary exhalation than invective.

A beat. "Yeah. We need to hit it again. Figure out where these assholes are coming from. I don't think this is over yet."

She emerges from the bathroom, tugging at the outfit to get it to settle. The leotard clings well enough, unzipped just to her collarbone, and the demicorset fits well enough she's not complaining about it. "Not bad, Grayson," she concedes, grudgingly. "Fits better than that stab vest I got last year. Lighter, too. I don't feel like I'm gonna pass out if I have to do a wind sprint." She twists and bends experimentally. "At least I won't bleed out the first time someone tries to shank me in the kidney."

* * *

Dick knows this to be true.

"They hit too hard, too fast. If there's something underneath it all, we'll find it. But there is also a conclusion where this is just happenstance. Thankfully, I don't give a damn about that conclusion. Someone targeted you guys specifically. We're gonna figure it out even if I have to drag in the big guy."

By the 'big guy', of course Dick means Batman. The World's Greatest Detective.

Dick was a close second.

"I'm…actually kinda surprised it fits so well. I was just going with my imaginati-…I'm really happy it fits." Dick fixes himself REALLY quickly before he wrecks himself. But he chuckles.

"So, can I hook you up or can I hook you up?"

* * *

Dinah shoots Dick a look of mixed reproach and amusement. "You do OK," she says. Not like his ego needs any more inflating. She reaches up and gives his cheek a pat-slap-shove, trying to push his line of sight away from a grin forming on her face. "Don't let it go to your head," she adds, a beat later.

"I guess I better start looking for a new place to live," she says, with a wry expression. Dinah heads back to the lockers and finds a pair of old, very used biker boots with shin-high impact guards, and drops her hips onto a low toolbox to start wriggling her toes into them. "Apartments in Gotham are insane though. I think Barbara's pretty happily holed up in her little aviary— she's got broadband access and it's right next to Kwan's Korean BBQ Hut, so, y'know." One brow lifts pointedly. Her boot slips from her fingers. Dinah grunts and drives her heel into the concrete pad underfoot, wriggling her foot into place and securing the clasps that hold the boot in place.

"Daddy says I should just sell the property. Move up north." She sighs. "He's taking it better than I am, I think. I guess it was really Gramp's house, though. Mom's dad. It's been in the family forever." She tugs the other boot on. "But Gotham ain't what it was back when we first came here from England, or wherever."

* * *

Dick smirks at her and yes, his face is pat-slap-shoved to once side to push his face away from her, though he does look back. He sees her apparently deciding to see what boots bit the best with her new outfit, Dick crosses his arms.

"Myyyy placce is aaaallllwwaaaayyys sopen. Youuuu can have the beeeedd, I wiiiill have the coouuuuch." Yes, Dick is legitimately saying that she can room with him if she wants to until she can find a new place. Kinda like what he's been saying all this time! "Or you cna just borrow my apartment for a few days and I can go back to barely tolerating Wayne Manor all over again. I know it was rough, the history and the memories."

Dick takes a breath then, letting out slowly. "No it sure ain't. But hey, it'll always be home. So, we can always rebuild. Or you can live with Barb in her old clocktower that she likes so very very much."

* * *

"Oh, yeah, that wouldn't be weird at -all-," Dinah snorts. "'Hey Babs, no big, I'm crashing at Dick's place until I buy a house or some shit'," she quips. "That'll go over -great-."

She gets to her feet and retrieves her old worn biker jacket from a hanger. It's not the high-end carbon-fiber lost in the fire; it's old, lovingly-worn leather, with a glittering, faded golden bird on the back.

Dinah tosses her ponytail out so it's not caught by her jacket collar. "God, I feel like it's high school again," she mutters, to herself.

"And I wouldn't inflict your dad on you. Bruce is great, but that seems like a recipe for familial implosion. I get along better with my folks now that they're up in Portsmouth."

"I don't know," she admits, turning to look at Dick. "I gotta figure… something. Rebuild the place. Sell the property off, it's gotta be worth something, right?" she hazards. "You take any rich boy fancy classes about property values?"

* * *

Dick chuckles just a little bit. "Once again, pretty sure she'd understand, considering the circumstances. Plus, you made it pretty clear my timing is the definition of shitty. Like, worse than Greese timing, and thats saying something. So…you know, not weird." He tries to defend the proposition, but he has a feeling Dinah would say no anyway.

"Nothing wrong with High School, right? We had good memories."

"Bruce is great, but…yeah." Dick apparently doesn't want to talk about it. Spent the majority of his life trying to get out of his shadow. It is what it is.

"Of course I did. I'm the richest rich boy. I can help you work all that stuff out. I'm tempted to almost make a deal out of it."

* * *

Dinah shoots Dick a reproachful look out the corner of her eye, and the side of her mouth pulls into a wry moue. "It'd be weird," she clarifies, firmly. "Like if Tim rolled up and said 'Babs is crashing at my place for a few weeks'."

She flexes her fingers at Dick in an examplative handspread and then looks in the mirror again.

"Well, at least I *feel* like I'm back in the game," she remarks, and turns to face Dick. Her hands rest in her jacket pockets and she shifts her weight over her left foot, hip rolling. "How do I look?"

* * *

"If he told me 'Dude, Babs house burned down and she doesn't really have anywhere else to go' I'd say 'sure dude, thanks for being reliable'". Dick crosses his arms. "Besides, It not like I can tell Barbara what to do. Plus, she's kinda dating a serial killer with a righteous vendetta, soo….I feel the weirdness factor of it all, is pretty much null in void in Barb's case."

Dick then shrugs just a little bit at her, but really, he seems comfortable about the whole thing.

When she asks how she looks, he smiles at her. "Hot."

Then he considers. "Oh wait, very..effective. Yeah, effective." He gives her two thumbs up.

"But also really hot. So, you up for a patrol or are you content to stay in all night?"

* * *

"Effective. Go with 'effective'," Dinah suggests. She grins at Dick. "Sorry honey, the clumsy flirting was cute when you and Babs were doin' it at each other, but that was high school. I've had too many billionaire playboys compliment my looks for it to do the trick anymore."

She walks past him and scuffs a bootheel across the bridge of his foot. "C'mon then, get your lil' green boots on and let's see if we can catch any of the late-night dealers catching the L-train home from the Narrows. I'll buy you a breakfast sammich at Jimmy's," she offers, and heads towards the tunnel chute where her backup bike is parked.

* * *

"Effective." Dick eventually settles with her help, but then Dinah apparently proclaims that she will be an extremely difficult person to catch, and he chuckles just a little bit. Then he feels his foot get pressed by her heel and he winces just a bit, but he chuckles. "Yeah, yeah, you just want to test my gear." He pokes her in the back with a finger.

"And sweetheart, If I liked ya only for your looks, I have a feeling our friendship wouldn't have lasted nearly as long." Dick goes to immediately get changed into his Nightwing gear so he can join Dinah out on the patrol.

"So, what do I get if I race ya from here to….oh, Gotham Heights? and win?" Might as well make it exciting, right?

* * *

"Funny how mutual that feeling is," Dinah says with a sparkling smile for Dick. "I was as shocked as anyone else to discover you've got a personality."

She fiddles with her bike while he's changing, and when he gets back she swings a leg over the saddle and seats herself on the bike. "Fine, here to the Heights. Last one there buys breakfast?" she says. "I've been living off cold pop-tarts and microwaved dinners for a week, I could use some bacon and eggs that weren't flash-frozen two years ago," she says, in a dry tone of voice. Her bootheel catches the starter pedal and Dinah's bike roars to life.

* * *

Mounting his own motorcycle, Dick chuckles. "No kidding. You were just shocked that you found it attractive." he teases her lightly. "But don't worry, I won't tell anybody." a wink, then he's revving the bike. "Then you'd just lose on purpose!" He laughs.

"But sure. Been awhile since we raced. Whats the score, 99 to 97, my favor?"

Oh yes, he's gonna light a fire of competition in her, or at least he's going to try.

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