[ He's not the most graceful of birds. In fact, it's dubious whether he can even be called a bird; not when he crouches, wings thrown forward like arms to curl his claws over Dick, rather than folding them at his sides or flapping them to keep his balance. His back tail will wag, or even curl around the other way like a third arm in a pseudo-circular hold. When jostled, knocked over, he'll hang, like a Noibat.
Even for a Pokemon, his taxonomy is bizarre. Talia, without a doubt, played god with her son's genes.
For now, he clings, a comfortable weight, and tosses his head -- half annoyance, half preening. ]
No. That's a side project, for when I'm bored.
[ Just building robotic exoskeletons in his spare time, whatever. ]
I call it-- [ He whips his tail, throws out his wings, in emphasis, feet digging into Dick's sleeve to hold on. ] --Oblivion Wing! Originally, it was Death Wing, but Father said no.
[ (Sometimes Damian passes, convincingly, as a twenty-year-old man, given his language and maturity. Other times, it's painfully obvious how young he really is. Death Wing, really?) ]
no subject
Even for a Pokemon, his taxonomy is bizarre. Talia, without a doubt, played god with her son's genes.
For now, he clings, a comfortable weight, and tosses his head -- half annoyance, half preening. ]
No. That's a side project, for when I'm bored.
[ Just building robotic exoskeletons in his spare time, whatever. ]
I call it-- [ He whips his tail, throws out his wings, in emphasis, feet digging into Dick's sleeve to hold on. ] --Oblivion Wing! Originally, it was Death Wing, but Father said no.
[ (Sometimes Damian passes, convincingly, as a twenty-year-old man, given his language and maturity. Other times, it's painfully obvious how young he really is. Death Wing, really?) ]