Damian Wayne | Robin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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dreamsanddisasters2014-09-04 09:10 pm
earlybird) wrote in dreamsanddisasters2014-09-04 09:10 pm
Entry tags:
Tiny Talon Dick (Plus is an E N A B L E R)
[ 'Stay. Inside,' Father had said. 'This isn't your concern.'
And no matter how much Damian had snarled back that it wasn't fair, that there wasn't any sense in barring him from patrol (it was just a boy, just another threat amongst many, what was so special about this one?), Bruce had left Alfred with strict orders to ensure that Damian stayed on lock-down while he left for the streets of Gotham.
Presumably to find that would-be assassin. The child from the Court of Owls. Although Damian wonders if there's anything about it that could be called a child anymore; wonders what might be behind that mask. Something about the voice, quiet and inflectionless as it'd been, declaring that the Waynes were its targets, had set Batman off, had frozen him solid.
Damian's fought the Court of Owls before. He's taken down one of the adult assassins - shot an arrow through its eye, and when that didn't work? Strung it up and beheaded it. Immortal though they were, the monsters could still die. He doesn't see what's so worrying about a pint-sized version of the same.
Pennyworth is being irritatingly clever for a butler, and unusually effective at keeping him caged. He's not falling for any of Damian's tricks, not this time, and both Redbird and Robin remain out of his access. The Cave is closed to him, and Damian's left to pace the boundaries of his room wearing nothing but a scowl and his satin pajamas (no suit, no daggers, no hooded cape), dinner ignored and left to grow cold as he presses his forehead against the chilly glass. Titus is more than happy to lay out in front of the fire, but as much as Damian hates the winters here, he wants to be out there. Fighting crime, throwing his frustration at whatever villain he can dig his fists into. The night is dark, almost inky, with thick, fat flakes of snow silently falling down; he can't even see the grounds through it, just glaring at his own reflection and the powdery puffs of white when they swirl close out of the pitch black.
Drake was allowed out tonight to attend his precious gala, with Cain accompanying him. Todd wasn't, but he left anyway. Smart enough to take off the second Pennyworth had swapped his focus to corralling Damian into his room before the butler tried the same move on him. Ridiculous. ]
And no matter how much Damian had snarled back that it wasn't fair, that there wasn't any sense in barring him from patrol (it was just a boy, just another threat amongst many, what was so special about this one?), Bruce had left Alfred with strict orders to ensure that Damian stayed on lock-down while he left for the streets of Gotham.
Presumably to find that would-be assassin. The child from the Court of Owls. Although Damian wonders if there's anything about it that could be called a child anymore; wonders what might be behind that mask. Something about the voice, quiet and inflectionless as it'd been, declaring that the Waynes were its targets, had set Batman off, had frozen him solid.
Damian's fought the Court of Owls before. He's taken down one of the adult assassins - shot an arrow through its eye, and when that didn't work? Strung it up and beheaded it. Immortal though they were, the monsters could still die. He doesn't see what's so worrying about a pint-sized version of the same.
Pennyworth is being irritatingly clever for a butler, and unusually effective at keeping him caged. He's not falling for any of Damian's tricks, not this time, and both Redbird and Robin remain out of his access. The Cave is closed to him, and Damian's left to pace the boundaries of his room wearing nothing but a scowl and his satin pajamas (no suit, no daggers, no hooded cape), dinner ignored and left to grow cold as he presses his forehead against the chilly glass. Titus is more than happy to lay out in front of the fire, but as much as Damian hates the winters here, he wants to be out there. Fighting crime, throwing his frustration at whatever villain he can dig his fists into. The night is dark, almost inky, with thick, fat flakes of snow silently falling down; he can't even see the grounds through it, just glaring at his own reflection and the powdery puffs of white when they swirl close out of the pitch black.
Drake was allowed out tonight to attend his precious gala, with Cain accompanying him. Todd wasn't, but he left anyway. Smart enough to take off the second Pennyworth had swapped his focus to corralling Damian into his room before the butler tried the same move on him. Ridiculous. ]
no subject
Lost him. ]
Lost him?
[ It's almost a snarl. He's dead-ended, no leads on surveillance, and the engine hums, idle, as he rolls to a stop. It's been a while since he was out, solo, and the openness pricks at him in something like nervousness, if it hadn't been stamped out of him long ago. Dragging the helmet off, he swings off the bike, cutting the engine and parking it at the curb.
He's not usually out here during the day, either. Near-day. They do their work at night, when shadows offer better cover. His mouth twists, peering around, scanning the rooftops. ]
Last known location is in this area, though. Correct?
[ Correct. But he could have gone in any direction. He barks out a call, anyway: ]
Richard!
no subject
He stays hidden, lets his nerves ease with relief but doesn't make a sound. But he does peak his head over the edge of the roof, watching carefully, while pressing himself into the shadow from a taller building across the street.
The call makes his throat feel dry, but he doesn't dare answer.
Instead, he lets himself pop up for a span of seconds, pulling back his arm and flinging it downwards with as much strength as his arms can muster, sending the almost fist-sized rock flying towards the exhaust pipe of Damian's motorcycle. Its not good enough to clog it, but perhaps enough to damage it, to distract, at least slow him down.
But the trajectory gives away his position, and he knows Damian's smart; so he ducks back down and takes off across the rooftop, hops over to the next building and makes a run for it.]
no subject
He turns, instead, to the direction it came from, catching sight of the fleeing form. ]
I'm on him, Oracle! Sighted on the rooftops.
[ He's got another thing coming if he thinks he's going to escape Damian. The Robin scales the building with a quick shot of his grapnel gun, swinging himself up to the roof to hit the gravel running, darting after Dick as he leaps the gap between buildings.
And, when he has a clear shot and it's safe, he's quick to fling out a batarang, meant to knock Dick's legs out from under him. ]
Get back here this instant!
[ Better keep running, Dick, he sounds pissed. ]