guestservices | CYOA week 5: cloud, sebastian, bradley, jason

[This date is so old, hello. Suspicious.

He is the nerd apparently, so he will peruse some of the exhibits of the museum, though he doesn't get too far from Bradley really. Keeping an eye on him. Not for untrustworthy reasons. More for safety ones.

Bradley had turned over a new leaf! Also, there may be burglars.]

Paintings aren't too bad.

[They're literally impressionist art probably.]

[This backstory is wild, but he's made his decision. Once he's committed, Bradley is committed.

Bradley looks up at the painting, appraising it. It's not exactly to his personal tastes, but it's valuable, and he can see that straight away.]

Whoever collected these got a good eye.

[He'll look at the devices a little closer. What kind of devices are these? Are they familiar to him at all?]

[Bradley can probably recognize them! They're antique tech, essentially.

In fact, as they veer into that area, being art nerds, they may hear a voice coming from somewhere...?]

...ar me... ca... ou... he... me...?

[Steampunk Batman and Robin....

He moves into the area, but pulls up to a stop so he can cock his head and listen. He glances around, then at Bradley.]

...You hear it?

[Please don't make him crazy on top of everything else. Gonna look around to see what's here! If Bradley moves, he will follow.]

Yeah.

[ He's tilting his head slightly so he can at least try to pin point where it's coming from. ]

Broken up talk?

[ He's got his rifle with him and he'll start moving closer to the walls. ]

[YOU ARE IN A MUSEUM PUT AWAY YOUR RIFLE SIR the security guards are giving Bradley a wary look???? Hello. Who let this man in with a gun. Who here needs to be fired.

As they move, they'll hear the voice more clearly. It sounds like it might be coming from one of the antiques...?]

Can you hear me? Please tell me someone can...

[STOP]

Bra-- Bradley.

[WHY IS HE BRUCE WAYNE NOW. This is a hilarious turn of events for him. Cannot believe Jason Todd of all people is trying to get someone to put a gun away.

He reaches out to take Bradley by the arm.] Put that up. Not here. [He nods at the direction the voice is coming from so that Bradley can go to it.]

There.

[ Jason is the impulse control of this pair and that's terrific. There's a moment before he does put it away(ish) because he doesn't have a holster for it or anything. Listen, it's as away as it can be for the moment.

He will move towards the voice. ]

I can hear you.

[ But does it go both ways? ]

[The security guards will let this slide... for now...]

Oh! You can? You can? Over here, then! Over here!

[One might get the sense that if disembodied voices could wave, it'd be doing that! Though maybe not so disembodied, as they can track the source down to... a blue clock, sitting behind a glass screen in a display.

They might have to, like, shove away a few random people standing in front of it so that they can see. It's fine.]

[Don't say that. This is terrible. He already let Bradley walk in with a rifle anyhow. He follows Bradley toward the voice, gently using his dorito body to sort of bully people out of the way.

They will now just talk to this thing in front of God and everyone.] Keep your voice down. [To Bradley. They can at least PRETEND to be not crazy. He keeps an eye on the people around them.]

We're here. Who are you?

[We'll keep saying it's terrific until morale improves.

Bradley slips along with him. This is a normal blue clock? Like a wall clock or a wristwatch clock? Please tell me about the talking clock now that they're viewing it.

Is there anything they can glean from the clock voice?]

[There are definitely a few people giving Jason weird looks.

Anyway, it's a fancy ass blue table clock like this. The voice sounds like a preteen boy.]

I'm the clock spirit! Geez... you two are the first who've been able to hear me. It's been getting really lonely here...

Oh! My name's Ben—what's yours?

[Yeah, him and his buddy are having a nice chat with this fucking blue clock here? Maybe the people will leave if they realize the two of them are insane. Except, like, he's also a bit worried they are going to tattle.

He holds up a hand immediately in front of Bradley to keep him from answering the question. To the clock in a low voice:] Get to the point. [Sorry, his charisma is like a five.]

No names until you tell us what you want, Ben.

[Is this Big Ben? Help me.]

[There's a distinct disgruntled vibe as he's stopped from talking. But probably best only one person looks incredibly weird here.

If he can, he'll try to block off at least some people's view of Jason and the talking clock spirit.

We should've let Bradley talk to the clock.]

[The people are whispering like, do we need to call security?? Hello???]

Whaaaaat?

[The voice whines.]

You're really a hit at parties, huh... but all right. If you'll help me, I don't mind talking business.

I want you to help free me.

[Great. This doesn't sound sketchy at all.]

How?

[But he's looking over at Bradley as if he's asking whether or not Bradley thinks this is a good idea, or is here for it. Or if Bradley even looks like he thinks it's fishy.]

's fine. [As if a dude with a rifle saying this is at ALL reassuring to the general public.

He seems a little suspicious of the voice, but he's at least willing to listen to the kid talk.]

[There's a burst of light coming from the clock, though going by the non-reaction of the people around them (or maybe they're distracted by Bradley?), none of them can see it.

When the light fades, there's a boy floating above the clock.]

I don't know. But... I'm not meant to be here.

I once belonged to a clockmaker, you see. Some of the clocks he made were for sale, but some weren't. Every clock he created was a labour of love, but the finest were the ones meant for his loved ones. I was a gift to his wife, and cherished by her.

... But people are always greedy. The owner of this museum constantly asked to buy me and he was always denied. So eventually, he arranged to have me stolen. The clockmaker tried to get me back... but the museum owner is rich, and wealth gets you further in life than anything else.

[...]

That was many years ago, so my maker and his wife—my parents—must have passed away by now. I know I can never go back to my home... but at the very least, I want to leave this place. I don't want to belong to someone who stole me against my will. I'm tired of being locked away in boxes, or being kept in a display just to be admired.

I'm a clock! I was made to tell time. I... I just want to be useful to someone again.

[Inwardly, he is closing his eyes. They are waiting for the burglars here, and now, as fate would have it, they are going to be the burglars. Reaching up, he rubs the sockets of his eyes with two fingers. Okay.

Okay.]

Sheesh.

[He will let Bradley talk to the boy while he tries to inspect the clock, the case, and the surrounding area. Is it wrapped up tight? There are people, but how much security in this area? This is the worst idea ever. HE HASN'T EVEN AGREED.]

[Bradley, immediately, perks up slightly. Does that mean they get to steal? We love crimes in this household.

What time is it? Can he tell from looking at the clock? Are there windows? Does it seem like it's midday or late evening? How crowded is this room?

His voice is soft as he speaks to the spirit.]

Want out?

[He can understand that. He wants out of imprisonment too, but that's not going to happen any time soon for him.]

[NO ONE SAID YOU HAD HAD TO BE A CRIMINAL JASON maybe

The glass case is attached to the wall, probably with a small keyhole somewhere so that it can be unlocked and opened when needed, if one had the key. There are a few security guards in the area, because none of them are certain about leaving the man carrying a rifle unsupervised.

On the bright side, a lot of the common people have left! They were unnerved by Bradley and also the man talking out loud to himself. Very concerning. There are just a few stragglers elsewhere in the room at the moment.

Bradley can gaze out the window. It's sometime in the late afternoon, probably.

Meanwhile, Ben looks elated.]

Yes, please!

[I know what you mean, but the idea of Jason having imprisoned AU Bradley by taking him in.....valid.]

Just hold your horses.

[He turns and puts his arm around Bradley to spin them both around and away from the clock for one second. Conspiratorially-like. Don't look, guards.]

For the record, I don't condone this. [His Bruce Wayneness. Unfortunately, Batman is a vigilante and loves to break and enter and also steal from the people who deserve it.] We need a key, [he whispers.] Or... we can wait on the ones who are supposed to filch this place, and we can take it from them. Kill two birds with one stone.

[It's a valid take.

Also this looks so much more sus than talking to a clock. Jason may not condone this, but Bradley's criminal heart absolutely does.

He whispers back.]

You sure this clock was on their list of thefts? There's a lotta other treasures to get at.

Uggggggh.

[Ben sounds so petulant but he doesn't have much of a choice! ... He might be unabashedly drifting slightly closer to try and eavesdrop, though. Because he is a child and this is what they do, they're not very obedient sorry Jason.

Also, the remaining people and guards are definitely giving them weird looks. One kind Samaritan hesitantly approaches.]

Are you two... all right...?

[Me looking at Bradley's age and then closing my eyes. OH N, people. He flashes this Kind Samaritan a charming smile that he only learned how to do from his philanthropist parents.]

--Yeah. Yeah. Just... my brother [they have the same kind of hair, it works] was thinking about asking if he can donate his rifle to the museum. He kind of liked how the clock was on display.

[Bradley: WHAT]

You know where we could find the big guy in charge?

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