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

( still in the suit — not that he hasn't managed to acquire regular clothing for himself — he stands there outside the manor this place has put together on... his? their behalf? quiet. hidden. looking over the gold R he holds there in a gloved hand. he knows what this means now. has an idea of who it belongs to and the many extremely complicated ways in which it's tied to him. in which the bearer of this crest is tied to him. or... some version of him, at least.

it's been a few days since they'd come across one another here. since blood had been exchanged and startling similarities had been discovered through dna testing. maybe not as startling to damian, given the things he's said, but for him... startled was certainly a word for what he felt upon seeing the results. among other things.

so he stands there. contemplative. gaze settled there on the R he holds and recalling the way damian had looked to him— the gentle wait he'd nearly asked of him in his parents room. or what this place has put together for it in the manor. that feeling inside him that had prevented him from walking out despite the almost quiet plea...

a glance up to the manor, he slips away from his spot there in the shadows. makes his way inside as he'd done before. wondering if damian might be likely to return here as much as he is. i am my father's son he'd said. and where is it that he'll always return to?

home.

steps slow yet relatively heavy in the way he walks — with purpose as batman — he makes his way down the steps into the cave. pauses on them when he catches sight of damian... and something rather large there with him. he reaches for the compact baton strapped there to his back. is about to pull it down at his side, when he takes a moment to assess the situation. doesn't see damian in any real danger with the... thing there behind him, and slowly loosens his grip there on the baton. but doesn't exactly pull his hand away either. )

( he had been hoping the results would be negative for matching strands of dna, almost as much as he was hoping for a match. the batman here is not his father, isn't even close, but he is bruce wayne. not that this would be the first bruce wayne damian would come across who isn't his; but it would be a first for one that he isn't immediately swinging at.

the manor is his home, but it's one he has been spending time avoiding visiting as of late. because it isn't his here, not exactly, and with an alternate bruce wayne flouncing around, damian would prefer to avoid the man until he approaches him. their initial meeting could have gone. . . better, and damian also recognizes how complicated his very existence makes things for this bruce.

because he is indeed his blood son, his heir, but father hadn't exactly planned for him. his mother had; raised him with the league of assassins, trained him to be the best. his father was a different story. but goliath's arrival also meant needing a proper place for dragon bat to sleep, and while he is plenty friendly, he sincerely doubts the rest of the populace here would appreciate goliath licking their faces and devouring every morsel of food left out in the kitchen. nor would damian appreciate the stomach ache he would get for that.

which is why he's hunched down to the ground with goliath at his back, idly working on a small device on the floor in front of him with a few tools. damian doesn't react to the intrusion, but goliath twists around, a low growl building in his throat as his shoulders tense, readying himself to pounce. )

Hush, Goliath. It's only Father, albeit smaller. He has yet to prove himself to be an evil duplicate, but if he does, you may eat him.

( with damian's words, goliath's shoulders loosen while the beast refocuses on the lobster he's been chewing on. )

( father. it feels different to hear— sounds different with knowing now, for himself, just how similar they are to each other. he still can't entirely wrap his head around all this. there's so much going on and has been in the past two years he's decided to start the gotham project... that he's decided to don the cape and cowl throughout the shadows within gotham. the thought of being anything or anyone other than what and who he is now... he can't see it. all he sees is corruption. lies. deceit. the worst in so many.

it takes him a moment before he pulls his hand away from the baton and slowly makes his way down the stairs further. not without eyeing the creature there that damian has with him. that's... hm. not something you typically see in gotham, that's for sure.

still slow with his steps, he takes in the cave a little closer as he approaches. notices damian tinkering with something. then stops there a little ways from him. again, another glance to goliath before he's looking back to damian. )

I take it this belongs to you.

( at that, he holds out the R. )

( he's still not turning back towards batman as he approaches. instead, damian's sealing up the small disc he had been working on with the screwdriver in hand, making sure it's tightened well then twisting around. his domino mask is absent, leaving green eyes as well as the rest of his face visible.

the robin uniform is still on, as is the R on the right-hand side of his chest - very similar to the one in bruce's hands. he looks down to it for a moment, as if confirming it's presence still on his chest before he pulls himself up to his feet and taking the few steps necessary to get closer to bruce. extends a hand out to take it. )

You would be correct. ( it isn't difficult for damian to find the catch along the emblem, causing the top to flip up and leaving the screen under it visible. the security footage that automatically populates is one of a dark-haired girl wearing a white dress and sitting at a small table on the rooftop of a building. she's smiling, but damian doesn't let the feed play much longer before he's shutting it. )

Goliath. ( his hand raises, tossing the R back towards the massive red dragon bat, who catches it easily between teeth and gnaws on it, even if it's not enough to cause much damage. ) Thank you for returning it to me.

( he remembers his face. has it recorded on the lenses he wears — that he wears even now. things to look back on if needed, when everything seems to bleed together in a night, but. even then. he wouldn't need them for this. for damian.

a glance down to the emblem — to the way damian just tosses it back to goliath to chew on as if it were a toy, he stands there in silence for a moment. )

Guess it's a good thing I did.

( sarcasm. though that they should be relatively easy to pick up on. )

Despite appearances, he is quite gentle. Unless angered.

( goliath's the one who will likely grow homesick missing maya. while damian has an. . . attachment to her, he has spent far longer away from her than he has with, whereas she's taken care of goliath on and off for quite some time now.

and damian wayne doesn't show weaknesses like attachment to those he's still unsure of. while this may be bruce wayne, it may not be one he should put much trust in. they're still figuring that one out. )

My associate here will need someplace safe and more open to stay while we're here. ( with a jerk of his head towards goliath, who's still chewing idly on the emblem. ) I hope you don't mind the intrusion.

( it makes sense. to put such a creature as large as goliath here within the cave under the manor. he very well wouldn't be able to fit in those apartments they've seemingly provided for them here and, judging from his appearance, never mind size, he can't imagine the creature not causing some sort of stir amongst some of the others here. not that he's made much effort in getting to know them. again, a lot of this is out of his usual element.

much like all of this between them is. )

It's as much yours as it is mine.

( according to the blood test, that is. which he's sure damian has found the results to, but. even so. so much of the manor is different despite how similar it is at the same time. for every room he doesn't entirely recognize, there are little touches sprinkled throughout it that he does. )

( but it's complicated, isn't it? this bruce is younger, newer, he doesn't know who robin is yet, let alone damian wayne. or he knows now, but hadn't before. damian has yet to decide what's safe to share and what isn't, but is veering on the side of caution. he could just as well be putting on an act to gain damian's trust, to gain an additional helping hand to save his world rather than another competitor. and damian would be an excellent person to target for that: he's capable, knows what he's doing, this isn't the first time he's been involved in multiversal disasters.

goliath flaps his wings with a soft rrrr under his breath, flitting over to a higher platform in the cave where damian has set up a makeshift bed for him so he can put the emblem down on the sheets. )

More mine than yours, I would say. But you're the one who is still. . . adjusting.

( adjusting is certainly a word for it. among many others.

a glance off to goliath as he... goes to do goliath things, from the looks of it, he looks back down to the thing damian had been tinkering with. )

What were you working on?

( because that seems easier to talk about than... everything else. )

Nothing to concern yourself with.

( a small ultrasonic emitter, meant more for goliath's comfort than anything else. but he isn't telling this bruce about the dragon bat's weakness. )

You have questions. I may have answers.

I just asked one.

( and was given a non-answer in response, so. )

( he did. and damian's - raising a brow, lips twisting down into a scowl. )

And I answered.

( an answer bruce isn't satisfied with is still an answer. it isn't anything to concern himself with. if it becomes relevant down the line, damian may share. )

( so it's going to be like that, is it? not even going to touch on how typical of a response that would be for him to give if their roles were reversed.

gaze lingering on a damian, he eventually looks away. walks away. slowly wanders over to the computer setup that seems to be there. except it's looking rather defunct more than anything. cape gently wrapped around him, he looks to it. considers. )

How likely do you think it is this could all be bugged?

The likelihood of it not being bugged is far less.

( goliath has found his place and is settling in against his blanket, and damian - follows after bruce, keeping a few steps behind while he goes to inspect what should have been the batcomputer, but is significantly less. he's already inspected it himself. knows it's still a functional computer, even if it doesn't have the databases it should, or the high-performance systems that kept it running as well as they needed it to. it's not a workhorse, more of a show pony. disappointing but still - vaguely, potentially, a little useful. )

My scanners haven't picked up on anything concerning down here, but it's not as if they hadn't had access to my tech previously.

Then there's a chance it could have been compromised.

( damian's tech, he means. )

Keeping tabs on everyone brought here doesn't seem out of the realm of possibility. Especially given the exercises this place seems adamant about us participating in.

( all of their tech could have been compromised. damian woke up prone on a hospital bed, unharmed, in full robin gear, but he doesn't know what happened before he'd awoken. it's that blank time before he'd regained consciousness that concerns him, as should be the same for bruce himself.

he's walking around the issue, which damian would appreciate in any other circumstance, but this one concerns him and how they intend to interact going forward. damian doesn't want to walk into this with false assumptions.

eyes level on the back of bruce's cowl, careful to separate this one from his father. )

You've acknowledged the blood test. ( that he knows. and damian is acknowledging that he does, too. ) I want to know your intentions going forward. We can keep this civil but distant, if that's your preference.

( he'd been wondering how long he'd get to walk around this. to go without technically bringing it up. damian goes and beats him to the punch and he doesn't even have to turn around to know that he's staring to him. with green eyes that he can still see behind closed eyes. that he has seen a couple times already when doing so.

he's quiet. doesn't turn to face damian and, after a moment — after a slight tilt of his head some, gaze dropping down to the keyboard in front of him, he speaks. soft. )

What's yours?

( because damian's the one who has a father already. a relationship with one who shares his blood. he, on the other hand, doesn't [yet] have a son nor a relationship to compare... to miss. )

( bruce has always been hard to read. part of becoming his robin had been adjusting from working off of grayson, who had tried to be open with him, who was more. . . emotionally available, to his father, who closes himself off and leaves it to others to learn to translate his moods. damian has gotten better at it, but he's far from perfect.

this one hasn't perfected hiding yet either. it works in damian's favor. his lips twist further down, brows furrowed. )

Would you remove the cowl? Please.

( he's asking, even using his manners. they're in the cave, they have goliath to guard their backs in case anyone manages to come down here. and if it is bugged - well. aurora's already had access to remove their masks if she had wanted to. )

( there's a moment where it seems as if he might be considering that. please, damian uses and he finds himself feeling... some sort of way when he hears that. doesn't turn to face him. not yet, anyways. lets his gaze linger there on the keyboard he stands in front of. the word that leaves his lips— the question that leaves his lips still soft yet deep in the back of his throat. )

Why?

( he just... can't help but ask. )

Why did you want to see my eyes?

( he is more than the son of batman, he's the son of bruce wayne, a child of the league of assassins, heir to two kingdoms. he wants to see the face of the man who may one day father him, or another version of him, or - something along those lines.

damian isn't wearing his mask. it's only fair. )

( he knows what he's getting at. what he's wanting to look for in his face it's just... he doesn't know if it's a good idea. if it'll just make things more complicated, more difficult... disappointing for damian. because, again. he has nothing to compare or to miss, but damian does. very much.

it's after another stretch of silence where it might come off as bruce ignoring damian's request— ignoring him, when he begins to remove his gloves, sets them down on the keyboard. hands covered in white bandages, back still facing damian. hands coming up, he pulls the cowl off his head. slow. strands of hair sticking up a little here and there as he does.

holding to the cowl, he looks down to it. swallows. then turns some to look back to damian with those bright blue eyes not as hidden as they somehow seem to be when he wears the cowl. greasepaint smeared, tips of his fingers black from it. gaze settled more on damian's figure before he lets it raise to meet those green eyes with his own blue. blues that are filled with a sorrow— an anger and pain that still seems so very raw. )

Happy?

Edited 2024-04-04 22:53 (UTC)

( eyes trace over bruce's features, looking for ones familiar to him: the shape of his nose, ears, the curve of his jawline. he's long since realized that bruce wayne has become more a mask for his father than the cowl itself. that he's more himself when he's batman and always has been. damian bothers less with the mask than the others have: as damian wayne, he's still a haughty teenager, clever enough to take his father's place at the head of wayne industries during his absences. he's learned to temper himself down when filling in the role of bruce wayne's long lost son rather than robin, son of batman. his mask is less obvious, but still present: damian is more himself when he's robin. but it's his father's features that he recognized before even having met him: the false smile he wore on his face, the posture that read he was intentionally making himself loose, making it appear he was off guard when he was always prepared for anything. the shape of his eyes, and the way his smile didn't quite reach them. the carefully curated face, meant to mask who he truly was under it.

there is no mask here.

this man is young. perhaps not nearly as young as damian, and just a little older than grayson, but young for what damian has become accustomed to when it comes to the man behind the cowl. he studies him for several moments, head tipped back to look him over. not reaching for him, but just - looking. for what, even damian's not quite certain.

it takes him a while before he answers bruce. )

You're old enough to have theoretically fathered me. ( roughly thirty, he would say. the tabloids would have loved the story behind that. damian isn't concerned about it, more for what they could reasonably stick with here. his mouth presses together tight for a moment before he raises a hand to offer it out. ) Damian Wayne.

( he lets damian inspect him. look for the version of the man he knows as his father in his face. his features. his eyes. he knows it's what he's doing. he'd done something similar in asking to see his eyes. wanting to see if he could see some part of him in them. never mind the whole eyes being the window to ones soul and all. truth be told, when he'd discovered the results of the blood and hair test to his own, he'd considered it tampered. purposefully done by this place, considering the games it seems to want to put those who have found themselves here through. there's still some small part of him that hasn't completely ruled that possibility out, but. it's not as strong as it had initially been. especially when he has damian here in front of him like this.

when the hand is offered, he looks to it. silent. damian wayne. lost in various thoughts that are like rapid fire in his head. not an uncommon thing for bruce to do and it's easy to spot when he is — lost in them — if one knows him well enough. but. after a moment, he reaches out with his own, and takes damian's hand in his. grip firm yet gently careful at the same time. )

You're not worried of this potentially causing a sort of butterfly effect?

I know every suit my father has ever donned, and I do not recognize yours.

( it's likely an alternate universe thing, rather than another flashpoint incident. and, )

Regardless, he did not know of my existence until after my tenth birthday. Mother named me. The information I have given you won't change anything more than what I've already told you.

( because damian was fully raised by the league, until he was deemed ready to meet his father. he doesn't have a gothamite accent, many of his mannerisms were from his mother's side, rather than his father's. if it isn't an alternate universe, if bruce meets damian at ten still, he doubts it would change much other than him being prepared to face damian then. well. a little more than he had been originally. he doubts anything could really prepare his father for his arrival. and it's not as if he's, )

We won't be discussing Mother.

( his hand grips onto bruce's tight for a moment, before he lets go entirely. drops his own back to his side, but stays close. he's spent time before around a father who had no memory of him. a father who smiled softly when he hadn't felt the burden of the world on his shoulders. this isn't quite the same, but it's - similar enough. )

I don't need a guardian. My existence complicates things for you, and I understand that. If you're uncomfortable, we can both act as if we hadn't seen the results and continue with the mission, but I won't pretend you aren't here. I don't expect it to be the same here, but I have been Batman's partner for a few years and will not leave you to your own devices.

( the sound that leaves him is a huff, one of disbelief. )

So you don't need a guardian, but I need a shadow.

( at least, that's how he's taking it, what with the whole not leave you to your own devices comment made there. granted, it's likely why alfred constantly checks in on him. makes sure he eats, showers, sleeps. never mind tends to injuries when he'd rather just shrug them off. he's not going to ask that of damian here— not going to want that, even. not because it's alfred's place, but. he just doesn't need it. he can handle things on his own... even if this is the first he's been on his own and without alfred. it's fine. he's thirty, not thirteen. )

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

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