[Robin stares for a few moments. Of course she recognizes him, though they've never met, and she never imagined that they would. Until just now, apparently. What a strange dream.]
Firefist.
[Impulsively, she takes the hat from his head, making a show of examining it. Amazing, the level of detail ones dreams can give. The beads are slightly faded, the smiley face has some small scratches, there's a small tear around the rim. Why would her mind choose to focus on these things? Couldn't it have just been a generic hat? She gives it a spin on her fingertip, then plops it on her own head and she swears she can smell sweat.]
Good enough, I suppose. Is this your type of music?
[And what on earth might it mean to meet your captain's dead brother in a dream?]
no subject
Firefist.
[Impulsively, she takes the hat from his head, making a show of examining it. Amazing, the level of detail ones dreams can give. The beads are slightly faded, the smiley face has some small scratches, there's a small tear around the rim. Why would her mind choose to focus on these things? Couldn't it have just been a generic hat? She gives it a spin on her fingertip, then plops it on her own head and she swears she can smell sweat.]
Good enough, I suppose. Is this your type of music?
[And what on earth might it mean to meet your captain's dead brother in a dream?]