falling down

SCANNING…IDENTIFICATION COMPLETE. ENTER RICHARD CAIN, CHILD OF CASSANDRA CAIN. A 20 YEAR OLD FIRST YEAR ENROLLED IN THE ENGINEERING SUPPORT TRACK. INTEL SHOWS THEY ARE CLEVER, BUT CAN ALSO BE COWARDLY. ABILITIES INCLUDE  GENUIS LEVEL INTELLGIENCE, COMPUTER SCIENCE, SECURITY HACKING, EIDETIC MEMORY, MECHANICS. FACIAL RECOGNITION MISTAKES THEM FOR MATTHEW SATO.

One way or another, Ricky was somewhat having the time of his life. He finally understood the thrill that brought forth his family into the wilderness of Gotham for so many deadly patrols. It was a thrill of the fight, of saving and helping people, a reward without a single item in sight. He felt like a dancer, flowing as he fought the beasts, like he was putting on a show. He’d been doing great until, suddenly, he wasn’t. The beast was rowdy, grumbling and Ricky --? Was it his carelessness? Was he being careless? Would this have happened to any of his cousins? A misstep as the beast swatted at him, and the claw extended more then Ricky would have guessed-- it swung across his throat.

-

Peter smiled softly as Ricky spoke, and put his hand on his shoulder. “You wanna stick together?” he said. “I think our chances would be better that way. Two heads are better than one, right?” He smiled. “Although your head is way smarter than mine, so I don’t know how much I’ll be able to bring to the table,” he admitted, his voice still soft. “That makes sense,” he said. “Adrenaline is a part of survival.”

“Sticking together could work, there isn’t much anyone else I’d rather watch my back.” He grinned. Of course, not to say he didn’t trust his family. But somehow Ricky felt they wouldn’t be keen on him being as gong ho in fighting, especially given he was somewhat of a newbie. He chuckled. “Pft, you’re here for eye candy of course.” Ricky teased the other boy. “Though your badassness helps too.” A nod of his head. “Yep, it may be my new best friend.”

-

Peter snorted softly. “Ricky,” he whispered gently, putting out a hand and pushing down against the air, a signal for his roommate to lower his voice. “We should probably take care of these things and make it through the night before we really start celebrating,” he added, his tone still pacifying. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

Peter was always careful, it was his nature for better or worse. Once upon a time Ricky had envied it, now he wasn’t quite sure how to feel. “Yeah taking care of them sounds pretty good.” He agreed, lowering his voice alongside it. “Me? Hurt? Not at all, if anything I’m feeling adrenaline honestly.” A type of high he’d never known before. 

“I’m actually Jessie. Jake is Woody.” Mar’i corrected him, gesturing to her outfit and ponytail. “Haven’t you ever seen toy story 2?” she teased him. 

He grimaced awkwardly. “I watched the first one...?” He caught a glimpse of the third one when Peter was watching it once but besides that Ricky lacked the knowledge. 

“The mist? REally? Were you even born when that came out?” Wylder teased him, ruffling his hair. Or wig rather. “Thanks. It was Marcella’s idea. I think she’s living out out some Billy Loomis fantasy.” he shrugged.

“Uuuuh.” Nope. “Old movies are highkey my jam.” Ricky chuckled. “They kind of have the best stuff?” The original was typically the very best, always. A bright grin played on his face. “Okay I need to buy that girl some cookies because that is a awesome idea.” Billy Loomis under the mask too? Pretty rad idea. 

“Hey Woody, where’s Buzz?” A bright grin placated itself on Ricky’s face upon seeing his cousin’s costume. “You look awesome.” He told her. “Should I start calling you Sheriff Mar’i?” He teased playfully. “You might be the first flying sheriff in history.”

Open Event Starter - @lkustart​

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     “Has anybody seen Peter?” Emeli asked, voice raised to ensure that she was heard over the music that filled the place. She had been trying to spot him in the crowd but to no avail, but she was anxious to make sure that she got a photo of the two of them before they could get too carried away by the evening’s events. Emeli had taken a photo with Peter in their costumes every year since they were in diapers, and it meant a lot to her that she keep it going. It was definitely fun to look back on from time to time. “He’s the tall blonde one…kind of looks like a Disney prince?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” Wylder snuck up on -insert Muse’s name-,placing the plastic knife at their throat. “and if you say child’s play i swear to god.” his voice was back to normal. Letting them go he went in front of them, removing his mask to show he’d styled his hair and added fake blood to look like Billy at the end of the movie. “So? What do you think? am I a better Billy Loomis or Ghostface?” he smiled.

“Call me a cliche but there’s somethin about The Mist that got me really good!” Maybe he shouldn’t have been so excited about a movie with a despairing ending but Ricky couldn’t help it, he enjoyed the mythology of it so much. It was awful and sad but god so engaging! He hadn’t even realized it to be Wylder at first, he’d simply jumped at the aspect of describing his favorite horror movie. Oops. “Billy.” Ricky said without hesitation. “Anyone could pull a ghost face but Billy? That’s a toughy, and you nailed it bud.”

jake: she's a bitch

jake: see why does there always have to be a but? it's always 'i love you jake, but..' and then the concern comes

jake: that's what i'm trying to say to you man. it's hard for me.

ricky: sounds about right

ricky: i think its a batfam thing? like we could only say we love eachother when something is wrong

ricky: its an unwritten rule

So here was the thing. Peter was an AWESOME roommate. He folded laundry, left leftovers for Ricky when he stayed out late, took out the garbage, he did his dishes, kept his space clean and even offered to do Ricky’s own laundry when he forgot (which was often). That, in itself, was also the problem. Cause Ricky was not an awesome roommate. He was messy, spilled drinks, left the garbage stack up, left his clothes all over the place, never did his dishes-- the list went on. Worst of all, Peter was kind about it. He was never nasty, maybe a little exasperated sometimes which was fair but never anything like he had every right to be. Even when he found a fridge full of so many orange sodas he had no place for his juice boxes (Ricky did feel really bad that day, those poor juice boxes). It was as of late that he was trying to amend this. The biggest problem being that, well, there was so much Ricky didn’t know where to even start. 

The first place, he had decided, was under his bed. Where the trash lived. Now he understood why Peter checked his own under-bed every so often. It was the yuckiest shit Ricky had ever known to man. Maybe only battled by that goop monster his grandpa fought once, and his bed may have been even worse. He pulled his bed out and began gathering the grossest of trash. Hopefully Peter would be kept for the evening and by the time he came back the whole room would be clean as a whistle and--- fuck, that was the sound of the door unlocking. “I am actually gonna clean this up!” He said first and foremost. This was not how he wanted this to go, dang. “And I’ll move my bed back too after too.” He promised. 

“One more time.” PROGRESS was not something Ricky knew comfortably, at least when it came to combat. He was usually a two hits down and then done kind of guy. But as of late he’d been somewhat more inspired. The image of his cousin wounded after the dance fiasco sure felt like an inspiration. The last time he’d seen such a thing it’d cause him to retreat from the Batcave, from the family, from the whole hero thing. This time, well, things went differently. He’d been working on bravery with Rocky, his friend was the perfect push into situations Ricky typically avoided. Then there was the other part, the FIGHTING part. Where he learned instincts, reactions, shit he probably should have learned when he was little and his mother tried to teach him. It’d been easy back then to hide from it, promise to learn the next week, until finally the asking stopped. Now was no time for regrets, he couldn’t take anything back. But, there was no time to fix it more then the present.

Asking Bruce to teach him some stuff had been a strange experience. It was embarrassing that he felt so lost in the art of combat. At the very least if Bruce did write him off for it then-- actually, there was the thing. For all the lack of confidence Ricky felt in himself, he knew with confidence there would be no laughing. That Bruce would teach him if he asked. Bruce also happened to be his only cousin without supernatural strength or cool alien powers, so he was the best equipped for what Ricky lacked. Which was pretty much everything. Yet, as of late, the lessons seemed to be sticking. The instincts felt the same as when he was hitting codes into a computer, and it was kind of awesome? Awesome in a way he would have never guessed it was capable of being. “I think I could get in this time, really!” The move being a combo of duck from a punch and the attack that was supposed to be after. So far Ricky had failed in either landing the secondary hit, ducking, or staying on his feet after ducking. He’d gotten parts correctly, just not cohesively. “I really think I’m gonna get it this time!” He exclaimed. 

jake: Vulnerability is so hard.

jake: If I told you anything sappy know that I had a hand to hand combat with seven layers of embarrassment and repression.

ricky: vulnerability? idk her

ricky: pftttttt jake i love u but

“ oh my god please tell me you don’t believe it.” she said looking at him dramatically. if people think that way we’d be a fallen army of kids. “ we will be us for as long as we could be, but we just need to be responsible that’s all.” she replied, starting to walk into the house and trying to balance herself.

“i don’t know what to believe.” he admitted to her, point blank. ricky wasn’t cut out for this life, he just wanted to not be so useless. despite being an agent, he felt like he knew less then he ever had. “it’s funny,” he said. “you’d think this be the only time in our lives to not be responsible. not fully adults, not still kids, the perfect time. and yet... here we are. the apparent weight of the world among us.” he sighed. “i don’t know if i buy it. or i want it.” not that it was much of a choice.