( closedish ) stand up & catch fire with me

[supernah]

Who: mirror T(w)een Titans
Where: ~~everywhere~~ mirror-side
When: Early October
Rating: PGish.
Summary: Bad friends being bad.
The Story:
( jon has been here a little over six weeks. six weeks, inside this mirror universe, watching some version of himself prance around and stare at stars, getting overly excited over having seventeen dogs. he remembers back when that would have been him, when he could have been the jonathan kent who still believed in hope. in others’ ability to do good.

not anymore. a palm presses to the smooth surface of one of the mirrors in the tea room, fingers pressing hard enough against it to cause the glass to crack under it. on the other side, the other him is sitting down at a table, eating pie and cheerfully talking to some weird guy—as he does. because he’s always doing that; smiling, babbling cheerfully on about some stupid shit.

this jon’s lips twist into a snarl as he watches, giving an irritated sound hissed between his teeth before the fingers pressing against the mirror raise, hand balling into a fist and punching straight through the mirror. because it really, really makes him mad.

but whatever, maybe you have something more important to do than bother with the tiny angry superboy black. like bother some other loser. )

Comments

[wardofluthor]

You're in a charming mood. And I was minding my own business until you put you hand through a wall.

[He hums thoughtfully.]

We're copies but I wouldn't consider myself a "shitty imitation." I wouldn't take my Real's life for anything.

[nobodysghul]

We aren't shitty imitations-- Well maybe you are. I think we're their betters.

[Damian said from here he sits and glances at a mirror watching his double make eyes at a puppy that Witch boy is showing him. 'Idiot.' Is this what actually meeting his father turned him into? Siding with the know it all Drake and that poor substitute for Batman, Grayson]

Pass.

[supernah]

Built shittily. ( he reaffirms, and slowly pulls his hand out of the wall, fingers extending out before curling into fist once more, but he doesn’t move to punch the wall again just balls it up tight, keeps his eyes down to watch the way the skin over his knuckles turns white with how tight his grip is.

he turns to face damian, then, lips pursed. jon rocks back on his heels, shoves his hands deep into his pockets, and moves towards him. ) Tea?

[wardofluthor]

Oh, good, we're not punching walls anymore. Maybe I can get some work done.

[Tim's voice is barely more than a mutter, though certainly audible even if you don't happen to have super-hearing.]