The first thing Dick notices is the jarring silence. He's gotten so used to always hearing the buzz of voices on the Psychic Network that he'd never realised just how deafening it is not to have other people speaking directly into your mind.
It's so... lonely.
Waking up in a strange location is nothing new, but he then notices the second thing: he can't open a portal. He's completely cut off from Liminal Space, as far as he can tell, including all the Liminal and Psychic abilities he'd gotten from it.
Okay.
He eats the food in the basket and moves on, taking to the streets in his civvies, shades in place as he takes in Deerington.
ii. dice block
As soon as that little 'tutorial' speech is ended, Dick's glancing over at the other players, grinning brightly despite dreading what's about to happen.
"Anyone else not feeling too turbed, right now?" he asks, voice lighthearted even as a name flashes up on the screen and the numbers begin to cycle.
iii. dance dance
"Seriously? DDR with death penalty?" Dick quips, brow arching up as he stares at the spikes. Then he's looking over to his teammate, asking, "When - if ever - is the last time you played?"
For some reason, he doesn't seem that worried about the impending doom spikes hovering over them.
Robin (Dick) | Young Justice/CRAU | ota
The first thing Dick notices is the jarring silence. He's gotten so used to always hearing the buzz of voices on the Psychic Network that he'd never realised just how deafening it is not to have other people speaking directly into your mind.
It's so... lonely.
Waking up in a strange location is nothing new, but he then notices the second thing: he can't open a portal. He's completely cut off from Liminal Space, as far as he can tell, including all the Liminal and Psychic abilities he'd gotten from it.
Okay.
He eats the food in the basket and moves on, taking to the streets in his civvies, shades in place as he takes in Deerington.
ii. dice block
As soon as that little 'tutorial' speech is ended, Dick's glancing over at the other players, grinning brightly despite dreading what's about to happen.
"Anyone else not feeling too turbed, right now?" he asks, voice lighthearted even as a name flashes up on the screen and the numbers begin to cycle.
iii. dance dance
"Seriously? DDR with death penalty?" Dick quips, brow arching up as he stares at the spikes. Then he's looking over to his teammate, asking, "When - if ever - is the last time you played?"
For some reason, he doesn't seem that worried about the impending doom spikes hovering over them.
He's probably a little touched in the head.
Or potentially gotten too used to revival.
iv. wildcard
(hit me up)