etrayalogs | ( closed ) bred, born, and raised to kick your ass

The one who had been Red Robin is on Etraya.

( the initial answer comes quickly enough, even if the follow-up is a little. . . slower to be voiced. )

We'd recently discussed his lost spleen. ( because it showed up, in a bag. ) This was right around the time I saw him after he returned from losing it. I'm assuming that's why we're here.

( and there's also the bit of, )

This is a lot safer than the alternative.

( the logical thing to ask would be what sort of lives are you living? but. considering the sorts of things that happen in his own life currently... if they're anything like him with that sort of lifestyle, well. he doesn't really need to ask that question. he already has an idea.

and he's not even seasoned with it yet. )

Not because it showed up here?

( only asking because of random things being found as of late. the R, for one. )

Yes. Because his spleen had showed up here.

( this is drake's fault. all of it is drake's fault. if drake would speak to bruce, if they would share what each other has shared with him, they would be on the same page regarding how far they should. . . identify each other.

and if they go too far into this conversation, damian's focus is going to shift, too. to the spine that had shown up with damage that damian could recognize as what he suffered. )

( deciding to shift the topic away from that, he looks around. takes a moment. looks back over to damian then with hands still there in his coat pockets. )

Can you control what we're seeing? Where we're going?

( again. it's not as if he has any sort of experience with any of this. )

If I controlled this, I wouldn't be ten. I'm thirteen, not -

( fingers grab hold of his shirt - it's a robin tunic, even if it's not the same one damian wears on etraya. it's his original, the one he'd first donned. but his point is less about the clothing, and more about the fact he's fitting in it. his mouth presses together after, an irritated little scrunch on the bridge of his nose as he looks around. )

I've trained for similar scenarios, ( telepaths, a secretive vigilante's worst nightmare. ) so I might be able to shift it.

( and, a little quieter, )

I don't usually have good dreams.

( it's a hypothesis of his. considering where they are and while he can't exactly say this is a case of lucid dreaming, where one might still be able to shift and control the things they see within their dreams, it could be close enough.

a gentle look to damian at that last part, he licks over his lips. casts his glance away. words soft. understanding. )

Neither do I.

( it's why sometimes it's best to simply force himself to the point of exhaustion in the hopes he might be too tired to even dream. )

I can try.

( since he has a feeling that's what bruce wants to do: try to shift, test the limits of whatever this is. damian understands; if it were anyone's head but his own, he would recommend something similar. )

But I can't guarantee it won't put us somewhere less pleasant.

( just think happy thoughts, damian. although he knows how difficult that is himself. so, instead of that, what he attempts to offer is some form of encouragement. )

You don't need to try. This is your mind. You can do it.

( except he does need to try. the green outside the windows is a dark reminder of everything he's been keeping from bruce, intentionally blinding him to because he knows how negatively bruce will respond once he finds out. not necessarily to damian himself, but how much it will - hurt him.

he looks to bruce, then forwards to the pair idly chatting on. takes several steps toward them, stopping when he's on batman's other side. batman turns his attention to damian, smile clear on his face even if the rest of his features are blurred. he offers a soft, "what's up, champ?", that damian responds to only by leaning in closer, pressing his forehead against batman's arm while batman's other arm raises to wrap around him.

to some, it might be called a hug.

damian's eyes close, and the world around them shifts between one moment and the next. no longer are they in the penthouse, but in the batcave - the one damian had been in not too long before he'd awoken on a strange hospital bed. there's the massive t-rex, the coin, the robin costume that had once belonged to todd in it's proper display case. a lot of the finer details are spot on - except there's also, in the middle of the cave, a massive lazarus pit that does not belong.

batman is gone, as is the teenager. the batcomputer's running through data, a series of numbers that bruce would recognize as morse code if he decided to try deciphering it. and damian's standing by the edge of the pool, thirteen once more, staring down into green. )

( he watches everything that plays out before them — makes mental notes of things he sees and doesn't see while he stands there. letting everything unfold as it does. this is damian's mind. his dreams. there's not much he can do but let him guide them to wherever or whatever he does. not... exactly trusting him, but. letting him guide them.

when everything shifts and they're in the cave again, he takes a moment to look around. notices the green glowing pit and looks for damian's reaction to it — to being here now. steps slow, he comes up beside him, hands there in his pockets as he does. )

Why are we here?

( something he keeps asking him. to try and gauge damian's current state of mind. )

It's neutral territory.

( the batcave is his and bruce. it belongs to the rest of their family, it's a shared space. even if the pit here in the middle isn't supposed to be here at all. damian's shoulders are tense as he eyes the pool, and he's - taking a step forward and towards bruce, to stand in front of him.

best to avoid any pit incidents, he'll use his own body to block bruce's from going into it. )

You didn't specify where when you said elsewhere, I assumed this would be reasonable.

I'm letting you guide us.

( he looks to damian as he comes over to him. lets his gaze slide past him to the pit there that seems... out of place. even here, in these... dreams. it feels and looks off.

with damian there in front of him now, he can't help but look to him and just... take his presence in. even here, within a dream, he carries himself in a way that feels so similar to how he often carries himself. a resemblance he sees through actions, through body language. where he doesn't necessarily need physical evidence to tell him otherwise.

he still wonders if this all might be a hallucination as a result of a psychotic break. it would... somehow make more sense if it were.

a look around again, he hums. )

No bats?

( at the mention of bats, a significant amount of bats start floating to the top of the green compound - some bodies missing pieces, some whole but clearly full of holes, some crushed.

damian takes a step back, raises a hand to shove against bruce's abdomen. pushing him back and away from the pit. )

Guide us to what? I told you, there isn't--a lot of good in here.

( he's working on it. has been for years, fighting back al ghul instincts, memory, trying to be damian wayne rather than the grandson of the demon's head. )

( guide them to whatever it is damian's subconscious may be trying to tell him. trying to tell them. or him. maybe wanting to but... hesitant to. the display of distorted bats above the green pool making him think that. add to that the way damian pushes him back from it and he looks down to him. gaze soft. )

What is it with the green there?

( what are you trying to keep me from? )

It's called a Lazarus Pit.

( he's still - testing the waters. seeing how far he wants to go. what he should tell bruce, what he should leave for him to discover on his own. damian's history is a mess to untangle, and while he chooses not to try to not focus on the unpleasantries, he acknowledges they are there. the pit will always be part of him.

so he chooses his words carefully. )

A restorative pool that can heal injuries, even fatal ones, as if they had never occurred. It's also known to drive those who bathe in it to madness, albeit usually temporarily.

( mildly concerning, if not entirely supernatural. something one would consider steeped in myth and legend… not to truly be anything tangible yet possible to exist. brows furrow. gaze resting on the swirling green. something about it… bothers him. though he’s not sure what, exactly. )

This is beneath Gotham?

No.

( he says it - carefully, words measured. it's not a lie, but it isn't the whole truth either. )

Batman's legacy is only one half of what I have inherited.

( his own look is measured. silence filling the space between them for only a moment. )

And the other half?

If I tell you, I can't take it back.

( it's - an offer. he said he wouldn't speak of them, and he'd meant it. for bruce's sake more than his own. it - doesn't seem like bruce is connecting the lazarus pit to ra's al ghul, he didn't recognize it, which is . . . both good and bad. )

( it's a conundrum. to know or not. he knows damian has kept his lineage close to his chest for a reason — a reason he figures is partly for his own good while another is possibly due to how strange this all is. to suddenly be here with some alternate version of... a father... who doesn't recognize or know you... he has to commend damian for how well he's handling it. or pretending to, at least. if they're really anything alike outside of blood, he's likely to be handling this about as well as bruce himself is. which is just barely but not letting it show.

he glances off to the green pool— to the lazarus pit. lets it linger there for a moment before he's dropping his gaze down to damian there in front of him. hesitation fleeting, he lifts a hand. rests it there on damian's shoulder. offers a very gentle squeeze. )

Maybe when we're both ready.

( it's weighty. damian remembers how bruce had reacted to him when his mother had first revealed his existence. remembers how hard those first few months had been, but how that's all it had taken for damian to stay. that his brief time with his father before his untimely 'death' had shown him a better way. he worked hard to suppress numerous parts of his upbringing. relearned how to fight, how to land blows that weren't meant to kill. he remembers the time he had spent learning to work off of richard grayson, how difficult that had been for all of them. damian's attitude against grayson's patience, how young he had been while managing a small, well-trained assassin, coping with the death of his father and addition of a younger brother no one had been prepared for.

how hard damian had to work after bruce had come back, to learn how to work off of his father rather than the older brother who had taught him to be robin. damian's death at his mother's hands, the lingering scars over his chest from being impaled, from the organ and spinal replacements that had happened before that. the pit, and damian's ties to it.

he doesn't want to ruin this. doesn't think it would, explaining, but it complicates things. bruce reaches out for his shoulder, and damian lets his loosen in response. wills away the tension in them. )

I'm Damian Wayne. I chose to take on my father's last name, three years ago.

( that's what matters. )

( this is new. for both of them. for different reasons. and while blood may bind them together, there needs to be more than that. for both their sakes.

navigating this is sure to be difficult at times. not just for bruce, but for damian as well and, again, for both similar and different reasons, but. there's a measure of— an attempt to be made? small, slow steps taken for the moment, cautious and curious with where they'll lead. and while there's clearly so much he doesn't know and will, inevitably, want to know, for now — right here within these dreams they slip in and out of, it can... wait. it can wait and he can try and recognize this as being just as awkward and difficult for damian as it is for him. in so many different ways.

glance dropping, hand still there on damian's shoulder, he lets it slide up to press against the curve of damian's neck. rests it there for just a moment, then slowly drops it away. )

Can you wake us up from this?

( it's acceptance, as best as he anticipates getting it from his father. bruce doesn't want to know, not yet, which he knows is. . . a lot for him to accept, too, given bruce has a need to know everything. he's drawing lines and keeping already set boundaries.

bruce is young. damian's beginning to see just how young he is. it's not necessarily bad, it's just different. )

No, not intentionally.

( but he is tipping his head back towards the pit. damian has had similar dreams before - dreams that have shifted into nightmares, his mother's voice whispering behind him, taunting him. this isn't the same. but he's assuming the same thing would wake him up. )

Throw me into the Pit.

( the look on his face says it all when damian goes and asks that of him. )

What?

Throw me in. I'll wake up.

( he'd jump in, but damian has a sneaking suspicion it wouldn't work as well. )

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject