She is a menace. [Although he had anticipated that Brown had implemented some sort of fail safes to assure that Drake didn't do exactly as he'd been thinking, hearing it confirmed only deepens his loathing (and respect) for her conniving plan. Surely this is a sign that her father's villainous genes did indeed take root in her. Damian pauses to consider this new revelation, remembers the idiotic failures of plots that he'd read about in the Cluemaster's profile on the cave computer, and promptly reconsiders. Brown is far too nefarious to be compared with a lackluster d-list annoyance like Cluemaster.
A chilly breeze sweeps through the line and Damian takes a step closer to Tim, using the teenager's body as a buffer and perhaps seeking out some of the other boy's heat. Not that he will ever admit it.]
If we're here out of ridiculous obligation, why on Earth are the rest of the people in this line? [Are they all just insane or?]
[He coughs into his hand (which may or may not be disguising laughter), and pretends he's unaware of any unkind thoughts Damian is having.]
Why do you think Steph made me come out here?
[His sardonic tone makes it pretty clear what he thinks of that. He gets liking a good deal and only being able to afford things when they're on sale, but Black Friday takes it too far. It isn't even worth the ridiculous amount of effort when the alternative is warm beds and going for better sales later.
After a short pause, he adds on:]
It's also a holiday tradition for some people.
[Which is also why Steph made him come out. He yawns (again), and tries not to shiver at the sudden breeze.
It's freezing at ass o'clock in Gotham, and he's supposed to brave the crazed crowds with Damian, but Tim can't find it in himself to be too irritated. Between the happy chatter among a few people and the visible - if drunk tired - excitement of more than half the line, it takes a real Grinch not to feel the cheer. It isn't often Gothamites get into the spirit of things instead of defaulting to their usual cynicism. (Tim isn't fooling himself though, he knows it'll be all out war once the store opens.)
Speaking of Grinches.]
Here.
[Tim drops his thick knit red scarf on Damian's head, already looking away and shoving his hands back into his coat pockets. Before any protests can be voiced, he continues speaking, this time in a bland manner.]
[Why would anyone make this a tradition??? Who hated themselves that much? Damian understood that this day reportedly held highly desired items (?) for very low prices (???) but surely no one was so impovershed as to deem losing the sleep, standing out in the cold milling around like a bunch of cows, and then fighting their way through obnoxious crowds worth saving a few hundred dollars?
Who was that poor!? If Brown wanted money, he could share his allowance with her.
Damian's eyes flash to Tim the moment he senses movement but he still isn't prepared for the scarf that is suddenly dropped onto his head and he scrabbles at it with his hands, tugging it away from his hair. It's near instinctive to drop it on the floor and make some sort of derisive comment (because he knows what Drake is doing) but before he can do exactly that, the warmth begins to seep through the cashmere and into his fingers and he finds himself wrapping the offending fabric around his neck and lower face before he can help himself.]
[Tim should get an award for not rolling his eyes. Heck, he should get several for resisting the urge to smile triumphantly when the younger boy swaddles himself with the scarf. (Honestly, he wouldn't have been surprised if Damian "accidentally" dropped the scarf in the muddy sludge they're standing in. He's going to count this as a win.)
The red vested employee walks past them again, back into the brightly lit warmth of the store. Half the line stares after enviously (while likely counting down the minutes), though Tim is busy mourning the fact that he has no coffee in hand.
At some point he turns towards Damian, coincidentally blocking the wind.]
Hey, hold out your hands.
[It’s just loud and cheerful enough for the surrounding people to hear.]
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no subject
A chilly breeze sweeps through the line and Damian takes a step closer to Tim, using the teenager's body as a buffer and perhaps seeking out some of the other boy's heat. Not that he will ever admit it.]
If we're here out of ridiculous obligation, why on Earth are the rest of the people in this line? [Are they all just insane or?]
no subject
Why do you think Steph made me come out here?
[His sardonic tone makes it pretty clear what he thinks of that. He gets liking a good deal and only being able to afford things when they're on sale, but Black Friday takes it too far. It isn't even worth the ridiculous amount of effort when the alternative is warm beds and going for better sales later.
After a short pause, he adds on:]
It's also a holiday tradition for some people.
[Which is also why Steph made him come out. He yawns (again), and tries not to shiver at the sudden breeze.
It's freezing at ass o'clock in Gotham, and he's supposed to brave the crazed crowds with Damian, but Tim can't find it in himself to be too irritated. Between the happy chatter among a few people and the visible - if drunk tired - excitement of more than half the line, it takes a real Grinch not to feel the cheer. It isn't often Gothamites get into the spirit of things instead of defaulting to their usual cynicism. (Tim isn't fooling himself though, he knows it'll be all out war once the store opens.)
Speaking of Grinches.]
Here.
[Tim drops his thick knit red scarf on Damian's head, already looking away and shoving his hands back into his coat pockets. Before any protests can be voiced, he continues speaking, this time in a bland manner.]
My neck itches.
no subject
Who was that poor!? If Brown wanted money, he could share his allowance with her.
Damian's eyes flash to Tim the moment he senses movement but he still isn't prepared for the scarf that is suddenly dropped onto his head and he scrabbles at it with his hands, tugging it away from his hair. It's near instinctive to drop it on the floor and make some sort of derisive comment (because he knows what Drake is doing) but before he can do exactly that, the warmth begins to seep through the cashmere and into his fingers and he finds himself wrapping the offending fabric around his neck and lower face before he can help himself.]
...obviously your skin is inferior.
no subject
Yeah. Okay.
[Tim should get an award for not rolling his eyes. Heck, he should get several for resisting the urge to smile triumphantly when the younger boy swaddles himself with the scarf. (Honestly, he wouldn't have been surprised if Damian "accidentally" dropped the scarf in the muddy sludge they're standing in. He's going to count this as a win.)
The red vested employee walks past them again, back into the brightly lit warmth of the store. Half the line stares after enviously (while likely counting down the minutes), though Tim is busy mourning the fact that he has no coffee in hand.
At some point he turns towards Damian, coincidentally blocking the wind.]
Hey, hold out your hands.
[It’s just loud and cheerful enough for the surrounding people to hear.]
no subject
Why?