(no subject)

[velocette]

[Today, the Motorcycle Boy is signing with his hands, and translating after.]

I'd forgotten who I was back then. I wonder if we were supposed to be nostalgic after? That or very guilty, for who we were, or who we became.

What purpose does guilt serve, outside of societal control?

[That last part he had to finger spell, which was exhausting, so excuse him he's taking a smoke break.]

Comments

[halftheman]

[ Angry and withdrawn. Grieving a mother he barely knew and waiting in fear of a rigged game. ]

Celebrate?

[velocette]

[The sort of person the Motorcycle Boy had tended to try to bring into his gang...which, you know. Wouldn't have been good for either of them.]

Yeah. Smokes, a game.

[He's not good at celebrations.]

[halftheman]

Got smoked. Game's harder. Not exactly getting getting the Knights games around here. Sports were a big deal in Gotham. But nobody's surprised by that.

[ Sports meant money and gambling and that meant crime. ]

[velocette]

Could always start our own forms of competition, if that's what you're missing. Pool was more my thing than football--team sports felt kinda like gang wars, except everything stops in games when someone gets hurt.

[halftheman]

I could play pool. We got a table, down on deck six.

[velocette]

I'm game.

[He says this amiably, like he doesn't make a Thing of it to go and clean out the pockets of pool players every weekend.]

[halftheman]

Let's go down, then.

[ Harv will probably lose more often than not. It was never really his game, though he knows how to play. He's got a good eye for angles and shots, though, but nothing too fancy up his miss-matched sleeves. ]