WHO: damian wayne & others WHEN: early to mid march WHERE: wayne manor, wayne tower, other places not labeled 'wayne' WHAT: a small canon update, drama therein, open and closed starters below. NOTES\WARNINGS: child violence/abuse/death mentions likely, comic book violence, etc.
( the first time damian had met his father, it had been his tenth birthday.
for a child of ten, his memory of that day, of stepping out from behind his mother to hold his blade up to his father, "i imagined you taller", the cave, drake, locked doors - he remembers it with such bright clarity, details permanently etched into the synapses of his brain. it isn't the only memory that he holds close to his chest, and while it's one that comes to the forefront when he thinks of moments that have most effected the twists and turns it took to make damian wayne into the man (boy) he is, it is no longer the one sitting at the forefront of his mind.
one day, that will likely change. one day, he'll be able to move passed recent memory to return to a time when finding the light his father had brought into his world is the memory etched behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes. even better, maybe it will be something brighter, lighter.
but that isn't where he is now.
previous research into the comings and goings of etraya reflect what he's just learned: sometimes, residents may blip out for a moment, returning to the exact spot they had just been albeit with more memory of their homes. damian had been out in nova city in the extremely early hours of the morning before the sun rises, moving between the justice tower and arkham to ensure their residents were not creating larger messes than their mere existence already does - when that same blip managed to hit him.
he's eleven one moment, over half a year into his stay in this cursed city - and the next, he's a few inches shorter, robin uniform littered with blood-stained holes and a deep, unsettling pain settling into his chest.
nova city isn't unfamiliar territory, but it is territory he had not anticipated being in now. he stumbles a step forward, nearly tipping himself off the rooftop he had been trekking across before regaining his balance.
which is when the panic settles in. robin has one foot half off the edge of the building, hands sliding across the front of his tunic in search of wounds that are no longer bleeding, feeling along the numerous rips and tears for something. his breathing isn't steady, nor is his footing - but he isn't tumbling over the edge just yet. )
( rather than send coordinates along in a message, pending receives a picture of a map of nova city with an area circled on that map and several different pathways that could be used to reach that circle mapped out in red. damian assumes the man is clever enough to figure out how a map works.
if he isn't, then robin waiting around for him to show up atop one of the street lights will be significantly more awkward to explain if anyone else shows up than he wants to deal with right now. )
[to be fair to Damian, the "anyone" could've been Pending in another skin. to be fair to Pending, meandering around in places he's not as familiar with as a tall, lanky thing makes his skin itchy, and the want to be smaller, to be able to shrink into shadows, does make him want to curl up into Antigone's shape.
he resists the temptation, reframing the effort as some kind of...mental battle being won - like these oppressively ugly and unfamiliar structures were made this way by Echo explicitly to keep Knife on-edge, to tempt a shifting, a reveal of the flesh they feel truest to. and that can't be abided; petty though it may seem, it's the only bit of control Knife feels so strongly entitled to. Echo has forced them to make a lot of concessions, but they will not relent Knife's face so freely.
so, Pending it is, all scars and little tusks and strips of cloth wrapped in thin layers about his forearms and shins, a sheathed dagger wound and wrapped into a sash at his waist for lack of a useful strip of leather and fastening. this is the guy with weirdly light steps for his size, plodding along through this section of Etraya, stopping at intersections to vet the shapes of nearby buildings with their approximations being uncomfortably flickered into view onto a blank sheet of paper on command (the paper is not necessary, but it feels better).
it's...this building, yes? or the space between it.]
Edited (used "plodding" twice in one tag 100 years jail) 2026-03-05 18:10 (UTC)
( robin isn't looking for gustave, but he finds the man anyway.
etraya isn't particularly large, but it has a very diverse landscape. the trolley system was a clever and useful addition for those without vehicles, and while it isn't one that damian uses frequently, it is one he does, occasionally, use to get a look around etraya itself and catch up with any changes he may have been missing out on.
catching up isn't really the goal of this particular ride: he knows that while his absence was mere moments here, it was a significantly longer duration of time for him. he'll use catching up as an excuse if it's asked of him, because needing the fresh(ish) air against his face on a vehicle that is near constantly moving in a loop that would take him no less than six hours to finish should he choose to remain aboard it means six hours of mostly uninterrupted quiet around the southern hemisphere of etraya.
he's atop the trolley, cloak wrapped around shoulders and knees pulled up against his chest until he catches someone at the next stop boarding it while fussing with - something. it's enough motivation for him to uncurl himself with click of his tongue, hands gripping onto the rooftop to flip himself down and onto the window sill at gustave's back, watching the man quietly for a moment before he opens his mouth, )
( pending is large. easily noticeable from a distance given his stature and choice of clothing. it means robin doesn't have to search for the man when he appears, which he would typically find to be especially boring, but today? he is less focused on the fun of solving puzzles and playing detective, and more focused on having something to hit, even if it is just for practice.
when pending passes by below robin, he lets his boot slip free of the street light, dropping down directly toward pending, fully intent on landing right on top of him to knock him off balance. )
[well, the dice said eat shit (5 perception) and also die (5 strength), so the second the body hits him, Pending wasn't prepared a lick and down he goes with a yowl and a] FUCK--
( pending does down as robin lands on top of him and he's - cackling in response as knees hit pavement and robin is left lording over pending on the ground. he could be a little more kind, but what fun is that when he can instead win? )
Perhaps you should work harder on keeping your guard up.
( the transport pod opens into the 'fortress of attitude', and damian wastes no time in immediately yanking off his tunic and cape, pulling the domino mask off his face, too, leaving him in his leggings, boots, and undershirt as he stomps across the base with wadded up fabric in his hands. it isn't anger that's fueling the quick-pace he's making through the base, but something - something a little darker.
something that leaves him quickly opening one of the chests full of supplies meant for emergencies and dropping to his knees in front of it, leaving the bloodied mess of fabric behind him while he sifts through dehydrated food until he reaches the clothing underneath. it's those he's quickly pulling out, not leaving any time for interruptions while he shoves the hoodie he's found over his head, shoving arms through sleeves and pulling the hood up over his head before he gives himself a moment to - breathe.
his heart's racing; there's the gut-sensation that something is wrong, but he is - trying to swallow it down. trying to. )
( he’s been practicing a little more with his super hearing — has gotten better at drowning out everything and everyone here in etraya so he doesn’t become an overwhelmed half-kryptonian mess to the point where it’s all a sort of white noise to him. he’s gotten better with it but even then, he still keeps an ear out for certain people as a means to keep a sort of tabs on them and damian just so happens to be one of those certain people.
it’s the heartbeat that pings him — gets him to lower his comic away from his face where he’s sprawled out on his bed at the moment. at first he wonders if he’s hearing things — lifts his comic back up and goes back to reading. but then he hears it a little more clearly when he goes and focuses on it and he drops the comic away completely, sitting up. something’s off with damian’s heartbeat, enough so to make the half-kryptonian so concerned that he gets himself off his bed and heads out from the apartment into the sky.
he’s able to find him quickly enough — drops himself down into the water and flies his way towards their underwater base. he’s quick with it — doesn’t want to have to hold his breath any longer than he needs to, and pulls himself up into the docking bay once he arrives. dripping wet, he makes his way through their fortress, ignoring the way his shoes squish with water as he goes, more focused on the way damian’s heartbeat sounds to him…
…and then he sees the bloody balled up tunic and, a little ways from it, damian himself. steps hurried, he comes up behind the boy. )
Hey. What happened? Are you ok? Your heartbeat’s all weird and your tunic is blood..y….
( robin keeps countless tools on him at all times, just in case. his utility belt is filled with smoke bombs, flash bangs, batarangs - a countless amount of weapons and other useful things that could be used in countless different ways to ensure his own victory.
generally speaking, getting ahold of them should not be simple. for robin, yes, but it's his belt. and pending - well. he isn't expecting the beast to be able to get the best of him.
when he's pushed off, robin's quick to pull himself back up to his feet, ready for round two except pending has managed to get - one of his smoke bombs? it definitely looks like his, and it has him looking at his belt for signs of it being tampered with just long enough that when it's thrown to the ground, it surprises him. he gives a startled yelp, raising a hand up to cover his nose so he's not breaking it in, but - )
well-hidden away from most others. it shouldn't be easy to find, and it is meant to be a safe space away from the rest of etraya. of course, there is always jon, and superman, and his father, but he's not - expecting to be followed right now.
but the footsteps are light. there's the squish of wet shoes, and both things combined mean it both isn't superman (his footsteps are heavier) and is not his father (who can walk quietly when he pleases, but would not be soaked through) but is the third, and - slightly less bothersome option.
good.
his shoulders loosen a little, but damian isn't turning to look at him just yet. instead, he's dropping to sit flat on the ground so he can pull at the laces of his boots, loosening them enough he can kick them off, too. they are splattered with blood and damaged, but it isn't nearly as noticeable as the tunic is. )
I - ( he starts, but cuts himself off. pulls off a boot, then the other, throwing them off to the side before pulling in a deep breath through his nose. ) I am uninjured. I think.
( but it's grumbled half-heartedly, before he's reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a few batarangs. there is nothing else close to them currently, so he's throwing them out in three separate directions - not bothering to go for where pending's voice had just come from, given it had come from another angle just moments prior. )
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etrayalogs2026-03-04 09:14 pm
➵ closed to current cr.
for a child of ten, his memory of that day, of stepping out from behind his mother to hold his blade up to his father, "i imagined you taller", the cave, drake, locked doors - he remembers it with such bright clarity, details permanently etched into the synapses of his brain. it isn't the only memory that he holds close to his chest, and while it's one that comes to the forefront when he thinks of moments that have most effected the twists and turns it took to make damian wayne into the man (boy) he is, it is no longer the one sitting at the forefront of his mind.
one day, that will likely change. one day, he'll be able to move passed recent memory to return to a time when finding the light his father had brought into his world is the memory etched behind his eyelids when he closes his eyes. even better, maybe it will be something brighter, lighter.
but that isn't where he is now.
previous research into the comings and goings of etraya reflect what he's just learned: sometimes, residents may blip out for a moment, returning to the exact spot they had just been albeit with more memory of their homes. damian had been out in nova city in the extremely early hours of the morning before the sun rises, moving between the justice tower and arkham to ensure their residents were not creating larger messes than their mere existence already does - when that same blip managed to hit him.
he's eleven one moment, over half a year into his stay in this cursed city - and the next, he's a few inches shorter, robin uniform littered with blood-stained holes and a deep, unsettling pain settling into his chest.
nova city isn't unfamiliar territory, but it is territory he had not anticipated being in now. he stumbles a step forward, nearly tipping himself off the rooftop he had been trekking across before regaining his balance.
which is when the panic settles in. robin has one foot half off the edge of the building, hands sliding across the front of his tunic in search of wounds that are no longer bleeding, feeling along the numerous rips and tears for something. his breathing isn't steady, nor is his footing - but he isn't tumbling over the edge just yet. )
➵ pending.
if he isn't, then robin waiting around for him to show up atop one of the street lights will be significantly more awkward to explain if anyone else shows up than he wants to deal with right now. )
no subject
he resists the temptation, reframing the effort as some kind of...mental battle being won - like these oppressively ugly and unfamiliar structures were made this way by Echo explicitly to keep Knife on-edge, to tempt a shifting, a reveal of the flesh they feel truest to. and that can't be abided; petty though it may seem, it's the only bit of control Knife feels so strongly entitled to. Echo has forced them to make a lot of concessions, but they will not relent Knife's face so freely.
so, Pending it is, all scars and little tusks and strips of cloth wrapped in thin layers about his forearms and shins, a sheathed dagger wound and wrapped into a sash at his waist for lack of a useful strip of leather and fastening. this is the guy with weirdly light steps for his size, plodding along through this section of Etraya, stopping at intersections to vet the shapes of nearby buildings with their approximations being uncomfortably flickered into view onto a blank sheet of paper on command (the paper is not necessary, but it feels better).
it's...this building, yes? or the space between it.]
➵ gustave.
etraya isn't particularly large, but it has a very diverse landscape. the trolley system was a clever and useful addition for those without vehicles, and while it isn't one that damian uses frequently, it is one he does, occasionally, use to get a look around etraya itself and catch up with any changes he may have been missing out on.
catching up isn't really the goal of this particular ride: he knows that while his absence was mere moments here, it was a significantly longer duration of time for him. he'll use catching up as an excuse if it's asked of him, because needing the fresh(ish) air against his face on a vehicle that is near constantly moving in a loop that would take him no less than six hours to finish should he choose to remain aboard it means six hours of mostly uninterrupted quiet around the southern hemisphere of etraya.
he's atop the trolley, cloak wrapped around shoulders and knees pulled up against his chest until he catches someone at the next stop boarding it while fussing with - something. it's enough motivation for him to uncurl himself with click of his tongue, hands gripping onto the rooftop to flip himself down and onto the window sill at gustave's back, watching the man quietly for a moment before he opens his mouth, )
What are you doing?
no subject
when pending passes by below robin, he lets his boot slip free of the street light, dropping down directly toward pending, fully intent on landing right on top of him to knock him off balance. )
no subject
no subject
Perhaps you should work harder on keeping your guard up.
no subject
Pending growls and grumbles a bit, pushing the kid off him, sneaky fingers snagging something along the way to getting to a squat.]
I guard from proper threats. [The fuck is this? he peeps what's in his palm. This a smoke trap? Kinda looks like a smoke trap.
upon standing, they lob it at the ground. poof.
Oh hey a smoke trap.
he lifts to his toes and darts low and quick out of sight before the clouds can curl and give him away (21 stealth).
he throws his voice in another direction (21 deception):] Fool me once n' all that. C'mon, then.
➵ jon.
something that leaves him quickly opening one of the chests full of supplies meant for emergencies and dropping to his knees in front of it, leaving the bloodied mess of fabric behind him while he sifts through dehydrated food until he reaches the clothing underneath. it's those he's quickly pulling out, not leaving any time for interruptions while he shoves the hoodie he's found over his head, shoving arms through sleeves and pulling the hood up over his head before he gives himself a moment to - breathe.
his heart's racing; there's the gut-sensation that something is wrong, but he is - trying to swallow it down. trying to. )
no subject
it’s the heartbeat that pings him — gets him to lower his comic away from his face where he’s sprawled out on his bed at the moment. at first he wonders if he’s hearing things — lifts his comic back up and goes back to reading. but then he hears it a little more clearly when he goes and focuses on it and he drops the comic away completely, sitting up. something’s off with damian’s heartbeat, enough so to make the half-kryptonian so concerned that he gets himself off his bed and heads out from the apartment into the sky.
he’s able to find him quickly enough — drops himself down into the water and flies his way towards their underwater base. he’s quick with it — doesn’t want to have to hold his breath any longer than he needs to, and pulls himself up into the docking bay once he arrives. dripping wet, he makes his way through their fortress, ignoring the way his shoes squish with water as he goes, more focused on the way damian’s heartbeat sounds to him…
…and then he sees the bloody balled up tunic and, a little ways from it, damian himself. steps hurried, he comes up behind the boy. )
Hey. What happened? Are you ok? Your heartbeat’s all weird and your tunic is blood..y….
( a little more softly then: )
Damian?
no subject
generally speaking, getting ahold of them should not be simple. for robin, yes, but it's his belt. and pending - well. he isn't expecting the beast to be able to get the best of him.
when he's pushed off, robin's quick to pull himself back up to his feet, ready for round two except pending has managed to get - one of his smoke bombs? it definitely looks like his, and it has him looking at his belt for signs of it being tampered with just long enough that when it's thrown to the ground, it surprises him. he gives a startled yelp, raising a hand up to cover his nose so he's not breaking it in, but - )
First to draw blood wins?
no subject
well-hidden away from most others. it shouldn't be easy to find, and it is meant to be a safe space away from the rest of etraya. of course, there is always jon, and superman, and his father, but he's not - expecting to be followed right now.
but the footsteps are light. there's the squish of wet shoes, and both things combined mean it both isn't superman (his footsteps are heavier) and is not his father (who can walk quietly when he pleases, but would not be soaked through) but is the third, and - slightly less bothersome option.
good.
his shoulders loosen a little, but damian isn't turning to look at him just yet. instead, he's dropping to sit flat on the ground so he can pull at the laces of his boots, loosening them enough he can kick them off, too. they are splattered with blood and damaged, but it isn't nearly as noticeable as the tunic is. )
I - ( he starts, but cuts himself off. pulls off a boot, then the other, throwing them off to the side before pulling in a deep breath through his nose. ) I am uninjured. I think.
no subject
aloud, throwing his voice the other way:] Why blood?
no subject
( but it's grumbled half-heartedly, before he's reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a few batarangs. there is nothing else close to them currently, so he's throwing them out in three separate directions - not bothering to go for where pending's voice had just come from, given it had come from another angle just moments prior. )