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( 𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥 : Wally W. ) ── * Thread. - Blog Posts
tag dump. ( 2/??? )
smears of green, streaks of blue, dots of red like stars, it's a tapestry from within the speed force. wally wonders how much dick could make out; how many of these fleeting instances he remembers? ( wally remembers most, if not all. ) / a single long second, it spans a thousand years, the shifting of body weight—— the familiar warmth, let's say they're both lucky: one misstep &. they're both gonna be joining those smears of color. not exactly the best way to start a reunion / date. he won't have it hanging over his head, not when dick already had plenty to dangle already.
slowing, wind goes from roar to a hushed whimper, all the colors unstretched becoming plain. only stopping when they're alone, only stopping when there's no danger, no risk, no nosey reporters eager for a story nearby. luckily, every hero kept a safe house—— some more private than others, but this one, he knew better than most. eyes glow with faint traces of the speed force, jolts of blue lightning that fade to reveal warm green eyes.
❛ easy ! easy ! gentle with the nose, birdbrain. ❜ head shakes, trying to brush off touch. ❛ half the fun of going out to dinner is enjoying the smells—— whatya gonna do if you hurt this prize-winning asset, huh? ❜ light jest, still, despite reaching temporary destination ... wally doesn't put them down. grip tightens ever so slightly, subconsciously leeching more warmth, eager to stretch one second into thousands. features flush, a faint hint of red against light skin. ❛ i missed you, dick. ❜
CONTINUED FROM HERE. dick & wally. / @amcssing
bad habits die hard; especially when they don't consider it entirely bad. its always been a talent of his, the disappearing act, since he was a child long before he donned the cape of robin. the circus crew had to be good at not being seen, after all. nightwing had to be even better. he tends to forget that there can be exceptions to this rule----even decades later.
he remembers when he reappears, of course. the mild twinge of wally's mouth makes it obvious. the tiniest pang of guilt hits, but it's replaced with an easy smile and a quip. when he opens his mouth again, he nearly swallows air, and his i told you not to carry me like this is quickly abandoned.
------ " your treat ? " he says between the wind, when wally finally slows enough, when his mask is no longer the thing keeping him from going all but blind in the velocity. when it is safe, mis-matched colored fingers lift to poke the speedster directly on the nose.
" since you asked. date etiquette and all, KF. " a dramatic swing of the legs, a hollywood imitation of romcom tropes, though the wave of giddiness isn't fake.
then, quieter, more serious: " meant it, walls. i didn't mean to take off again. "
a bit hesitant to swear it, words linger on the tongue, an unnatural weight—— before she relents. features brighten, unable to hold back wide smile, it goes from lips to gaze. verdant irises shimmer like windswept leaves, a storm rustling trees sending critters scurrying, frolicking, and playing. fist pumps, unable to contain it any longer, a light hop carrying him a few inches from solid ground. still, voice stays hushed, ❛ woooo. ❜ listening intently, browsing features for hints of deceit ( although never finding any. ) / although far from the lie detector others were. ❛ for real? you ain't messing with you me, right? we're not gonna race over there, and you make me into your fall guy, yeah ?? ❜ equal parts joking, equal parts serious. some things were too good to be true, wally often has trouble deciding which were which. ❛ if you're serious ... yeah, man, dude—— sock, hook me up. i'll even owe you one. ❜
" You gotta swear on it ! " A good thing can die quickly due to word of mouth. Not to mention kindness only going so far in this modern day. She sticks her pointer finger in his face for emphasis. Sakura puffed out her cheeks, frowning up at the other. " Alright- there's a lady who I have an in with at WcDonald's." she leans closer, holding a hand up shielding her mouth," As long I buy a meal she'll let me pick any toy I want. Maybe. Just Maybe ! " she furrows her gaze to the other. " I can pull some strings if you're interested " chocolate browns look up to reach his own.
CONTINUED FROM HERE.
green hues flit between plush and her, eyes narrowing, hushed voice only feeding into curiosity. she leans forward / he does the same. ( an effort to further mask their secret. ) gaze quickly scans left, scans right—— returning when coast seems clear. it takes effort to not wilt beneath intensity ... but wally manages. stray glares from a certain caped crusader might've been far worse, if only by a little. ❛ no judgement. c'mon—— 'm the least judgmental person ever. when have i ever judged you ! ❜ voice climbs, words cut short by hand covering own mouth. ( oops. ) ❛ ... m'bad. now spill, man. no one likes a gatekeeper. open the gates. ❜
@hadobreeze
green hues survey their expression, ensuring they're being honest—— &. seem satisfied. hitting the mean streets of las vegas along wasn't a big deal. ( once you've walked through gotham, could anywhere really get the best of you? ) no. the answers no. still, solo heroics aside, wally prefers someone at his side. someone to shoot a knowing look, share a good laugh, and then move on to the next thing. quipping at crooks and robbers isn't the same as between friends—— way too many bullets flying. ( even though ONE proves too many to most. )
laughter revs, a light rumble in chest, yet stifles itself into a chuckle. springing to his feet, wally balls up what's left of the burger wrapper, it sails through the air—— nice long arc and just barely makes it into the trash. hands clap together, smile growing far prouder. ❛ score one for the red team—— orange team? ... team vegas. ❜ better off keeping it simple; easier on both of them.
part of him wants to ask if they're really sure about this, if they really want to lead him around. ( without witnesses, wally could admit he's a bit pushy ... maybe. ) although, he kept his concerns to himself. no point treading the same track over and over. ( right? ) ❛ m'wally. wally west. better than callin' me your tourist all day, yeah? ❜ they parrot with a grin. ❛ let's do something fun—— oh oh! but near another burger stand. never know; might get hungry later. ❜ ( he would. )
Mark's here for his own personal reasons, but there's no mistaking the way his eyes light up when the offer is extended. There's nothing he loves more than a chance to have some fun, after all—his siblings will still be here when he's done showing this guy around.
Probably. He's been looking for excuses to avoid actually talking to them, anyway.
"You might wanna consider hitting up some of the casinos, 'cause today's your lucky day!" Mark shoots an energetic wink, then laughs at his own little joke. "'Certified guide' is pushing it, but I know my way around well enough, I think. And I happen to be free. I mean, who comes to Vegas with a plan for what they're gonna do, right? Well—I guess responsible people. Anyway, I'll tag along. Beats doin' it all by myself!"
Not a lot of people would flag down a kind stranger for this sort of thing. Mark himself probably would, but he knows it's not really the way most people would go about it. That alone is enough of a reason to want to go along with things, if only for the sake of curiosity and entertainment.
He pushes himself out of his chair, enthusiastic as ever. "I'm Mark, by the way, so you don't hafta walk around all day callin' me your tour guide. You got anything you're especially down for? Somethin' fun, somethin' laid back? I guarantee you I can find whatever."
inhaling what's left of the burger half, wally cleans what little bits of ketchup and mustard are still clinging to his fingers. it wouldn't be lying to say he felt a hundred——no a million times better already. it'll give him more than enough juice if he needs it, although he isn't expecting much. las vegas ... surely it's not a place with anything to worry about? it wasn't a mission——as others insists. enjoy yourself, they told him. at a point it started feeling like they were just trying to get rid of him, which, y'know, fair enough.
"tourist-y stuff——no, wait——stuff locals like——uh ... any chance we can do both?" it's the first time he's stepping foot into vegas; he's been through her more than few times but he meant that literally. it's a blur on his travels to other places and he barely remembers a thing each time. to put it simply: it's his first time ever spending more than thirty seconds in the city of sin. bit odd that it never popped up during his time with the team. you'd think it would've been the first place to stir up all sorts of trouble for them to be sent to deal with.
"oh, and by we, i mean me. i mean, i can't expect you to follow me around all day and help me out ... right? not that i'd turn down a certified guide." it's a bit of a leading question, he'll admit. not his finest attempt to thread the needle of a delicate topic, but he's doing his best. "but, y'know, if that is something you DID want to do i can cover today's expenses for us." all hail the batman appointed credit card. "whaddaya say? wanna be my partner in crime?"
Damn. He must have been really hungry.
Mark comes close to feeling bad about having made his acceptance into a bit, but it's hard to linger on those kinds of guilty feelings when the guy's sticking around for a chat after scarfing down his leftovers. He's probably not all that torn up over the specifics of getting them.
"Well," he starts, still sporting a bright grin, "you're in luck! No-one in the world's better at this whole tourist thing than I am."
Expertise just comes with the package of being on the move so often; Mark is a tourist everywhere, taking in everything he can everywhere he stops. A local might know a thing or two about some niche, out-of-the-way place for good food or a good time, but Mark's always been good about sniffing out things or places that are entertaining.
He rests his arm on the back of his chair, then leans his head into his waiting palm, attempting to give his food thief some sort of scrutiny—like he's trying to judge exactly what sort of avenue to take this. "So what, you lookin' for some typical tourist-y stuff? Or are you one 'a those people who wants to pretend they know how to blend in with the locals? Plenty 'a shit to do either way. You like shows? Lotsa shows. There's a rollercoaster in a casino. Isn't that the sickest fuckin' thing you've ever heard of in your life? Who does that? It's probably a death trap but that's a sick way to go out. My sister made me ride it."
"thanksmanyou'realifesaver." words hurtle off his tongue like a racecar zipping around a track——all in less than a second, a picosecond, actually. "er, i mean, thanks, man. i'll be sure to cherish this burger that could've totally saved your life. minus the pickles, can't eat those." a loose grin hangs off his lips before hurrying to take the burger in question. running low on calories ... well, that's a speedster's personal hell. far as wally knows, though, he might've had it the worst. it earned him, at one point, the name 'kid mouth' rather than kid flash. least that's what dick loves to call him even to today.
plucking the top bun from the burger, he gently flicks the pickles off onto a napkin and takes his first bite. ah! delicious calories. exactly what every growing flash needs—don't fact-check that. you're hearing it from a true professional, after all. right now, wally's in heaven but really wondering if he's got enough on him to pick up a nice shake. some fries too——oh, and one of those little wildcat toys.
"so, between starving to death and crying, what exactly is there to—" a light burp. "excuse me, uh, what exactly is there to do around here? 'm a bit new to this tourist thing." sort've. long as the words stretched a bit.
@amcssing asked → “ you gonna eat that? ” wally to mark / yeah im back again ( src. / accepting. )
Like in many such prior cases with many other individuals, Mark's first instinct is to just hand over the discarded half of his burger without any complaint.
That's not what he does, though. It's not like he was going to finish it either way, but his second and more important instinct is to be really annoying about the whole situation. There are some real desperate people out there who will only let go of their hard-earned food kicking and screaming—Mark just wants to go out being a little bit of an asshole about it.
"Sorry, I just ran outta all my money and this is the last good burger I'm ever gonna get," he lies. "I mean, I guess you can take it, but I'll just starve to death after. And cry. I'll cry an' I'll starve to death about it. Is that what you want? You want me to die? Wow. What a cruel and unjust world I live in."
He leans back in his seat, offering a look halfway between judging and amused. Then he shrugs, breaking out into a smile.
"Nah, you can have it."