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[fightcoded]

Display Name: Midnighter
Handle: m
Profile Photo: LINK
Notes: From previous TDM here. Any threads can be continued, left as-is, or redone!


hey fb marketplace
m here looking for:
bactine
butterfly closures
razor (straight pref but im flexible)

would (and will likely) kill for:
black pants w 34-36 inseam

up for bartering or side quests as payment (violence is 👍)

Comments

un: arsenal, text—

[thwikt]

dude, did you show up with no pants?

[fightcoded]

67% of my pants are no longer on my person
so pretty close

[thwikt]

yikes
do you want someone to like
ship you a pair?

[fightcoded]

itd certainly stop me from killing for them

[ Hard to say if this running gag is truly a joke or not. ]

[thwikt]

srsly 🤞ing my fingers that you're joking
i'm pretty generous but not generous enough to start buying pants for baddies yk?

you got a place i can send em to?

[fightcoded]

goodie on the streets
baddie in the sheets i swear

[ Which is debatable at best. They should almost be swapped. ]

no but i can come to u easily enough

[thwikt]

i'll hold you to it, man
otherwise, not cool

excelsior sound good to you?

[fightcoded]

works for me
u got an address or landmark?

[thwikt]

yea i got an address

[ he drops the address to some random burger joint. ]

is 8pm ok?
i got work so i won't be able to get there any earlier

[fightcoded]

dw i can keep myself entertained until then

[thwikt]

cool
see you tonight then

[fightcoded]

with bells on

[ Midnighter shows up much earlier to pull reconnaissance, but he stays out of sight until Arsenal makes his appearance. At six-foot-five and a face still healing from a busted face; no shirt and most of his pants missing; a healing bullet wound to the chest; Midnighter is sure someone would immediately call the cops on him while he loitered by the burger joint. He can't have that. ]

un: red2.0

[reneger]

or
you could just ask nicely

[fightcoded]

i thought my take was pretty nice

[reneger]

i didn't see a "pretty please"

[fightcoded]

damn i thought youd be less high maintenance
do i need to add sugar on top tho?

[reneger]

and cherries

[fightcoded]

hm I can give you 3 cherries
no more

[reneger]

i don't give out pants for any less than four

[fightcoded]

these better be some good fuckin black pants
with an incredible 34-36 inseam

pretty please with sugar on top and 4 cherries red boy

[reneger]

you've got legs and they're real long, i know, no need for the reminder

come find me, i'll make it easy for you ;)

( by easy, he means--it's a good twenty minutes later when jason's sitting out on a small little table outside a small little coffee joint called cosmic grind in central city, an old worn paperback copy of emma in hand that he's paging through. )

[fightcoded]

[ Lucky for Midnighter, he doesn't find a "No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service" sign on the door to Cosmic Grind. And yet his entrance is no less startling for the handful of patrons sitting with a cup of coffee and a laptop on their tables.

Six-foot-five with a dyed brown mohawk and a face purple and green from healing bruises and cuts. There's no shirt on him, but he has the decency to keep his—what's left of his—trench coat closed. The pants, well, he might as well have come in Daisy Dukes for how little the tattered material covered him anymore.

He is, in all sense, a sight. A normal man might have been embarrassed walking around the tables and booths, but that requires shame. Midnighter truly has none as he sits opposite Jason. ]

[reneger]

( midnighter doesn't have any shame, nor does jason--but he does have the gall to look up and start--snickering. it could almost, almost be considered a giggle, but he manages to hide most of it behind the coffee cup he's raising to his lips. )

Damn. You get caught in a fire? A collapsing building? Y'know, the short-shorts, one pant-leg look almost works for you.

cw: descriptions of torture

[fightcoded]

Two explosions and an interrogation. Had to lay low a few days just for the brain swelling to go down.

[ The rest is still a work in progress. Most of his skin and muscle has at least knitted itself back together. Fresh healing pink skin is all over his body, particularly his bare thighs where someone had literally salted his wounds over and over again. ]

But the excitement of a new new pair of pants was too hard to pass up. I had to crawl out of my hole.

[ His eyes briefly jump to the closed book on the table, and then back up to Jason. ]

That part of your "identity?"

[reneger]

Thought you'd figure out I don't have one of those.

( he has a few names: jace draper, which he uses most days in conjunction to all the bullshit he gets up to with dickie junior in tow, or when he's out and about trying not to cause trouble, and mal richards--which he uses when he's fucking around in nyc's underground. both identities he answers to just fine, neither of which he's particularly attached to. jason todd has been dead since he was fifteen, and he's got no interest in fixing that here. heron was an id that died a firey death as a large green godzilla tore up the island prison he'd been stuck on--jason doesn't even have red hood to fall back on, given his younger self'd taken the hood for a spin around central city long before he'd arrived.

but he is shutting the book and sliding it across the table. if midnighter flips through a few pages, he'll find a good stack of bills waiting for him--enough for a pair or two of decent pants, and medical supplies. )

Or do you wanna go shopping?

[fightcoded]

I can't keep up with you kids these days...

[ What with their hula hoops and their fake names and their childhood trauma. But no seriously, there's nothing more confusing than the Batman family tree.

Without looking away from Jason, his hand grabs the book and pulls it to his chest. He finds the money as his fingers flip quickly through the pages. ]

Ooo, look at you, sugar daddy.

[reneger]

Book's good, too.

( since midnighter felt like sassing jane austen earlier. jason takes another drink of his coffee, before he's putting it down on the table in front of him. leans his forearms against the table, hands in front of him.

his knuckles are a little bruised; it matches the splotchy green, purple, and yellows barely visible under his collar, but when aren't they bruised up and battered? it's just another tuesday. )

Figured you'd be more useful to keep around if you weren't fighting infected injuries and walking around in--well, those.

UN: AmandaWaller; image is a pair of witches leg decorations sticking out of the trunk of a car

[mostdangerousbird]

Impressive shopping list.

hdu w that un

[fightcoded]

[ Seriously? What a dogged woman. ]

what can i say
im pro health and anti infection

He is not signing up for Facebook with a real name or real alias.

[mostdangerousbird]

Need a patch job?

[fightcoded]

funny
u put half these holes in me

[mostdangerousbird]

I didn't. I hadn't given much thought to whether you would take the username in good faith. I'm not Amanda Waller, nor have I ever been involved with any of her exploits.

Well. That's not entirely true - but not allied with her.

Not everyone's willing to put their real IDs in a database as you.

- R.