concoursec | [closed; in need of a closet]

Entry tags:

[closed; in need of a closet]

Character(s): Damian Wayne & Superboy
Location: Nighttime, around Garden
Rating: G most likely
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Superboy's been in Garden for a week almost and he's not impressed with the lack of closets. Not impressed at all, and he won't be any more impressed when he bumps into Damian.

Did closets not exist in this stupid floating ship?

Conner stomped through the corridor with an air of frustration, a dark cloud of irritation over his head, the door of his dorm sliding shut behind him on a whisper of air. His dorm room had proven useless, it only had a bed and other minimal furnishings. No closet in sight. His dorm mate's room also came with no closet from what Conner had seen earlier. And now as he strode up and down the corridors in search of a dorm room that was unlocked and not in use ... so not worth it! Plus they were all locked, judging by the way the red lights were lit up on the keypads.

Superman's clone was aggravated, moody (nothing new), at the end of his short-temper fuse.

WHY COULD HE NOT FIND A CLOSET?!

Conner clenched his jaw, teeth grinding. All he wanted to do was grab a bit of shut eye, sleep properly. He didn't need M'gann worrying over him or wondering why his energy levels seemed so low. But there was just no way he could sleep or recharge on the mattress of his bed that was nearly as hard as the floor-- there had to be something...!

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Damian rolled his eyes. Well wasn't someone in a chipper mood this evening. Of all the people he'd run into, it had to be him. It had to be Drake's best friend, and the person he had the misfortune of rooming with. As if the concept of rooming in that closet with another human being was humane. One of these days he really should travel to the headmaster's office and demand a bigger room. No one treated a Wayne like that.

Especially when rooming with someone meant rooming with your most annoying enemy's best friend. Now every time Damian saw the kid, or even glimpsed in the general direction of his room, he was reminded of Drake. Apparently life was trying to teach him that no matter how far you got in life, it will all come back to your less competent predecessor. All he needed was for Drake himself to show up, and his misery would be complete.

"And how am I supposed to know you're in costume when your 'costume' consists of jeans and a t-shirt? At least when you had that horrible unitard and biker jacket one could differentiate between csotume and regular clothes."

"I don't need a costume." Conner was in no mood to tell this guy, "No capes. No tights.".

How could this kid be his roommate? How could he be stuck with this guy? So far Conner couldn't help but feel like he was stuck in a room with Batman whenever the pair had crossed paths on and off in the past week.

"You clearly missed the class on secret identities."

There was a reason Damian tried to stay away from Drake's friends. The main reason being they all acted and sounded like Drake, albeit with minor personality differences. All of them were too self-righteous and full of themselves to really be of any sort of value to anyone but Drake (and each other). Damian didn't need "friends" like that.

"Though, the more I think about it it isn't as though you have family to be harmed by learning your identity."

Oh yes, Damian went there because he has no brain-to-mouth filter. And he's an ass.

The only 'ass' Superboy had ever had to deal with was Batman. Even then his interaction with the man had been mostly limited to covert missions and then debriefing. But the 'family' comment hadn't appeared to push the temper button or even pull so much as a brow twitch out of the bigger male; Conner only knew that he was a clone of the Superman, made with a purpose, two in fact. None of them involved 'family'.

"I have no family."

Conner knew what a family was but his relationship with Superman and Batman, the League, the others in his team... was that as close to a family as he could get? They all either wore masks or trusted each other enough to share their names with one another.

Family... Tch.

Damian rolled his eyes. Was this Kent brain damaged? At least the one he had seen in passing seemed to talk more than three words in a sentence. Then again, the fact that this Kent didn't seem to be joking about everything and hitting on everything that moved would be an improvement from the original.

"I know, I've read your file."

Seriously, what was up with Drake and his friends that were all so foolish?

Then Damian would be in for a real treat; this Kent didn't know the first meaning of 'hitting on'. He did try to joke from time to time but it was in his own little way that seemed to come off as ... well, not joking to everyone else.

"Not surprised to hear that."

Because anyone dressed up like Robin no doubt possessed the same smarts as the same one Conner knew back in his own world. Cocky, hacker, sneaky...

This was like talking to a wall. Robin crossed his arms and stared at his roommate. There was something wrong. He might look like the footage of Kent he had seen on the Batcomputer, but he hardly acted like him. What had happened to make him act so differently? Had his original impression of Drake's friend been that far off? Apparently there was value to the detective portion of the job after all. Too bad he was too far away to learn it now.

"What is your problem? I know you're Drake's friend, so you don't like me. You all just need to get over the fact that I wear the R now and he doesn't."

Yeah, let's go with that. He can hack, yes. And he's quite cocky. He's sneaky... sometimes. When he's not being a bulldozer. And he has none of the Grayson charisma.

"You're wrong. That's my problem. I am not friends with anyone named Drake." Does he sound a little irritated? It might just be because Conner is.

All anyone ever does in this place is assume, assume, assume. Don't they know that assumptions get you nowhere?

To say that Damian's eyebrow arched was an understatement. He doesn't know anyone named Drake? That couldn't be right. Just what went on between the two of them before his arrival?

"Are you and Drake not on speaking terms?"

Damian's assumptions were based on fact, and not wild accusations. How is he supposed to know that you're really from Earth 16 and not related to his Kon? I mean really.

"Drake. Tim Drake? Why is he so important to you?"

Conner's brows furrowed. What did Tim Drake have to do with them bumping into each other in the hallway now? This guy obviously had some sort of issue with him if he didn't even look happy while speaking his name...

"Drake is nothing to me. However, I was under the impression the two of you were 'friends.' It appears I'm wrong."

Slowly, the gears in his little brain started to turn. This Kent was nothing like the one he had heard about from home. This Kent also did not seem to know or be friends with Drake. This opened up possibilities.

Oh Conner knew of Drake, he had bumped into him after all on the way out of a class one afternoon and boy what a meeting that had ben. Conner just didn't know him on a personal level as well as Drake seemed to know... him.

"We bumped into each other. That was all."

Now that Damian knew for certain that Kent and Drake weren't friends, he seemed to relax a bit. If the two weren't friends, he no longer had to worry about Kent potentially spying on him for Drake. His reputation hadn't been tarnished by Drake's badmouthing to this Kent. In fact, there was potentially something in it for him.

"If Drake isn't your Robin, who is?"

That was kind of a stupid thing to ask, and it showed on Conner's face. His expression was unimpressed.

"Robin."

It's a struggle to keep from rolling his eyes.

"Yes, that much is obvious. Who is it under the mask, K--Superboy?" He dropped his voice lower "It's not Brown is it?"

He shifted his weight. Patience was not one of Damian's virtues, but for the sake of gaining a potential ally on his side he was going to give it a shot. For how long before what little patience he did had ran out would be another story entirely.

"I already told you. Robin," Conner growled quietly in return. "I don't know anyone by that name." Not yet. "He calls himself Robin. That is all."

This was going nowhere fast.

"...All right." Damian sighs. "You know my name, correct? I can trust you'll keep my identity a secret."

Since there was a bit of strictness on the whole identity thing back in the Cave and with Batman... Conner gave a short nod. "Yes."

Damian just nodded in reply. He wanted to win this alien over to his side. It appeared to be unclaimed for the most part, especially since his Robin, whoever it may be, was here. That sort of strength is always good to have around. The only problem was how to go about it.

"Do you go on patrols as well? Perhaps... we could go together."

"Patrols...?" Conner gave Damian a somewhat puzzled look. "They do patrols here? In Garden?"

He'd had no idea. Then again ... the 'team' never did patrols, only whatever Batman gave them which was undercover, low-level type missions.

"They don't," Damian arched an eyebrow. Was there anything the clone actually knew? "However, I fail to see why I should stop my nightly routine due to a change of scenery."

Just what exactly did Superboy do wherever the hell he came from? Was he even a superhero there at all? Damian figured he probably would have to be, otherwise there would be no need for the codename at all... but what then did they do? Sit around all day?

"I... guess." Conner shrugged a shoulder.

Definitely a superhero! But a superhero under strict parenting and house rules from Batman and Red Tornado both.

Damian was beginning to think that this wasn't the best choice of conversation to be having with this version of Superboy. More observation was definitely needed on his roommate.

"So do you want to come with me or not?"

"I'm trying to find a closet."

Yeah, like that was going to go any better.

"For what, your collection black of S-Shield t-shirts?"

Damn. This whole concept of being nice is harder than he thought.

"No," Conner grumbled, not all looking in the mood for whatever this kid was pulling on him. "To rest in. Recharge. Sleep."

Damian opened his mouth to ask why, the closed it again. The answer was obvious--he was a weirdo, that was why. And if he wanted to sleep in a closet, that was fine by him. As there weren't any in the dorm, it meant he could effectively have that tiny little room to himself again. That only left finding a closet large enough for the weird alien clone to sleep in. There had to be one in the Garden. There had to be. He closed his eyes and tried to visually walk through the Garden, looking for something closet-esque.

"Have you tried the Art 102 room?" Though he didn't have a class there, it was where he stole the spirit gum from. "They have those large lockers for supplies. Perhaps one of those aren't in use.

One day someone would have to explain the story about how Conner had been born in a containment pod and could only ever properly rest in something similar, like a closet. Beds are just too damn uncomfortable for him!

"Art 102 room..."

Conner had yet to take a class in it as well but he nodded, remembering exactly where it was. It was good enough for him. He repeated the number to himself and turned to head in that direction.

Never was one for 'goodbyes'.

Damian blinked a few times, watching Superboy go. He didn't bother to stop him or say goodbye, just sort of walked him walk away.

...What a weirdo.

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[closed; in need of a closet]

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