Trdsf: THE FOR-MAT DAL-EK IS SAT-IS-FIED

2020-01-07T01:31:36Z

THE FOR-MAT DAL-EK IS SAT-IS-FIED

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{{Log Header
|Date of Scene=2020/01/03
|Location=Living Quarters, Titans Tower
|Synopsis=Robin and Kian have a, uh, debrief. Sort of. Volt and Kian go over the aftermath.
|Cast of Characters=80,1773,973
|pretty=yes
}}
{{Poses
|Poses=:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Leaning on the wall, gazing out the large window, Kían sighs heavily, and his feathers fluff out.  He stretches and re-folds his wings, allowing them to settle.     Very much the picture of a birdman who is not a winter person.  I mean, it's ''cold'' out there.  That doesn't go well with a tendency towards sleeveless shirts (if any shirt at all) and kilts.     Earth is weird.     He sighs again, and sips at his large tumbler of Kool-Ade.  Purple tastes best. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Volt suddenly enters!  He looks a little raggled, hair damp and cheeks flushed, as if having just worked out.  And his attire may give definite clues as to what's been afoot. He used to be stuck roaming around the Tower in regular ol' pedestrian duds.  Today, it's an actual ensemble of black and green, done in stylish chevrons, with gloves, boots, and eyemask that only ''appear'' to be eyeless.  The covering is only transparent.     Flushed as he is, Volt couldn't seem happier.  He makes his way further into the lounge, bright smile worn, when he spots alien birdman enjoying purple drank.  "Hey!" he calls, lifting a gloved hand in greeting. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:'''     The war for Gotham had ended, and the city was on the mend.  Damian had been taking some time to be the with the Titans, and to work on personal projects as well.     One of which had been working on a winter variant for outdoor ingress.  He was wearing a white armored suit, much like Batman's, though his uniform often has other loose clothing accompanying it, right now he looked more like a video game character.  He spoke into a holographic screen, projecting from his left gauntlet.  "I told you, I do NOT have a concussion.  The stab wound is stitched and I will be fine."  The response from the balding man on the screen was not broadcast to everyone, but by the look of his face, the elderly man was nonplussed.     "If it will get you off of my back, I will allow you to scan me when I return to the Batcave.  Robin out," he insisted, with youthful bravado, and shut the hologram off.  It was then that he got a look at the two others present, immediately clamming up and just observing with a slight frown, his usual face. 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían turns at the first greeting, and his expression brightens.  "''Kíé'', Drake.  Is that a new outfit?  I don't know that it looks comfortable, but it's definitely flattering."  The birdman himself is in new clothes—cut essentially the same as what he had been wearing, but definitely new, not as worn as the kilt and vest he'd worn since his arrival on this world.  "You look pleased about something."     If he was going to pursue that further, it's cut off when a certain voice is heard.  Kían does not frown back, but the smile flicks off like a candle being blown out.  He regards Robin for a moment… then rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to Drake, whereupon the smile returns.  "And, you also look like you've been practicing," he says, as though there were no break in his flow. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Oof, real name usage.  Volt cringes a little, wanting to urge him to go easy on it—but ultimately, if he's going to work with these people, they should be comfortable calling him either way.  Sure, he's still not been officially accepted as full member of the gang here, but he's putting his eggs in that basket.  So Kían doesn't get anything beyond that initial wince.     "It's the costuming, finally.  Had it for a little bit, been getting some training in with it and the new gear.  Hittin' the ground running, you know?  Gotta get used to how it moves, how it breathes, and where everything is."  Not to mention just how to use it effectively.     Head turns quickly in Robin's direction at the voice, but his smile doesn't fade.  He's a happy fella'.  Kían, however, is still addressing him, so he gets his attention right back.  "I'm used to working with nothing but my fists and powers.  I've got a lot to work with now, so… no slacking off for me." 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:'''     Damian's eyelets look over Drake in his uniform, seemingly positive about the outfit that Drake has chosen.     The eyeroll from Kían is ignored, but Damian definitely is going to have words.  "Your uniform looks sturdy, Volt, should work well in the field," he comments. 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían sighs, as though embarking on an unpleasant but necessary task.  "Yes, speaking of field work," the birdman says, "I've been meaning to have a word with you about that."  He faces Robin squarely.  "I asked ''twice'' for specific instructions and received nothing except eventually a pointless suggestion I join your fight—which you know I am not going to do—and a request for a report from the outside, of which I had already provided you ''three''.  Really, if you're not going to pay attention, what's the point?"     He doesn't look angry.  More disappointed, like he expected better. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Volt had expected Robin would approve of the more utilitarian style he's using using now.  He's keeping the flashier accessories on the side for the more public work, but he's beyond excited to reveal ''that'' as well.  That's going to be more of a 'when the time is right' thing, perhaps.  Maybe Robin'll get the need for two styles.  Hopefully he will.     "It's worked pretty solidly in the Danger Room so far," is all Volt manages to get out before Kían dives in with the awkwardness.  He clams up.     Oh man, they didn't have this talk yet?  Or is this a mission he wasn't a part of?  Emerald eyes flick from one to the other briefly.  "I'll just… uh… yeah," he excuses himself, scooting off to the side to give the two room without having to feel eavesdropped.  Gushing about the conductors laced into the suit will have to wait. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:'''     Damian's current attire found him without his utility belt or his weapons, only armored, and with mask.  The white armor was brand new, and still shiny.  As Kían had decided to chide him in front of another team member, Robin's brow furrows and his face grows red with rage.     "And you expected me to wipe your ass, in the middle of combat.  ''You'' should be able to use discretion and prove yourself useful without having your hand held."     By now, he's walking up determined, jabbing a finger at Kían, perhaps even prodding him with it.  "You undermined my authority in the field.  You are not helping anyone with what you did.  You only put the team on the line and further into danger."     His left hand was balled into a fist beside himself, pretty much ready to lash out against Kían.  "You are no ''sensei'' of mine, and I will '''not''' be talked down to by the likes of some '''pacifist''' who looks down upon me." 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían's wings spread a little.  His expression hardens, but does not go to anger quite yet.  "And once I realized that you were irrelevant," he continues coldly, "'''I''' stopped someone who was going to launch a missile attack on the lot of you inside.  Again, you don't pay attention—or does that magically not count as using my discretion?  And then Drake and I—again, ''without'' your input—stopped a vehicle of those who were trying to escape.  I call my participation in the evening's events successful, '''despite''' you rather than '''because''' of you."     He draws himself up to his full height… which is exactly the same as Damian's.  "And I will speak to you in whatever way I deem necessary.  If you want my respect, you are going to have to earn it." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Oh man, this got super tense in a hurry.  Volt cringes a little at his name-drop, but this time for different reasons.  He really doesn't want to get included in this friction!  He already had his after-action rundown with Robin.     Hand raised to the back of his head, gloved fingers ruffling through obsidian locks, he just stays the Hell quiet.  Maybe a few more inches withdrawn to give them space is a good idea, too. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:'''     "I did not ask you to be here.  I did not ''want'' you here.  I still do not ''want'' you here.  Stardust keeps insisting you be here, and I let it slide.  But part of ''you'' being here means that you play by our S.O.P. or you can leave.  And don't let the door hit you on the way out.  The choice is yours.  I do not want your respect, nor do I need it to feel satisfied.  That is how low your opinion is."     Damian never was one for being soft and approachable, he would never allow himself to be such a person.  In fact, he's already turning away, before he really starts something others will regret.     The young man goes so far as to turn into his own living quarters, he would slam the door if it was not automated.  He could be heard for the next moments, clanging and being overtly loud in there.     He would emerge a time later, dressed in his normal uniform, and a silver case in hand, hefty and large, they'd have seen it before, he resupplies with it, whatever tools he uses up in the field gets resupplied straight from the batcave. 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían makes absolutely no move to stop Robin from storming off.  He has spoken his peace, and it is no longer his responsibility.  "I'm sorry that happened in front of you," he says quietly, turning a gentler tone and face towards Volt.  "I cannot fathom why an insane child has the authority he does, or thinks he does.  And I greatly fear he's going to get someone on this team killed out of his arrogance and ignorance, and I don't want it to be me.  I don't want it to be any of us, but you understand I really don't want it to be me."     He shrugs, and sighs, and shakes his head once as if to clear it, and the smile returns to his face.  "Anyway." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Uncomfortable…     Volt was pretty darn sure Robin was about to kick Kían off the team then and there.  But he didn't.  Maybe that's saying something?  They obviously don't get along, but Kían's got seniority over Volt.  He's probably even an actual member.  But Robin's the decision maker, and he hasn't booted him.  It's gotta mean something, it can't be because it just slipped his mind.  That's optimistic Volt being optimistic.     "Uh, yeah," he says finally, eyes uplidding a bit.  "Man, I don't wanna get in this thing.  I finally found a place I can belong.  I don't wanna lose that, y'know?  I think I can really do some good for people here."  Translation: Please, please don't drag me into this.     Anyway.     Before anything else can get underway, Robin has re-emerged!  Volt turns to him and upnods.  "Hey, those are the duds I know," he offers, hoping to ease the air a little. 

:'''{{#var:973|Damian Wayne (973)}} has posed:'''     Damian looked pissed, more pissed than he ever has looked.     The katana on his back was sheathed and as always, ready to go.  The field leader stared daggers into Kían, before he keeps walking, right into Kían's personal space.  "I do not trust you," he comments, before stepping back and spitting toward's Kían's feet.     He performs an about face before approaching the empty shaft next to the elevator.  It was for the flying members of the team, but Damian always seemed to use it to grapple up and down and to free fall with a soft cape landing.  "Volt," he says, giving a soft nod, before he jumps, heading to the sub-levels.  He had more work to do, and the very last person he wanted to see was Kían, so he would make himself busy with fixing one of the team's vehicles, at least he wouldn't have to see anyone if he was under a car. 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     "You don't need to," is all Kían says in reply; the birdman knows what kind of person he is, and Robin's trust, or lack thereof, is of absolutely no interest to him.  The spitting likewise doesn't discommode him—it hasn't the same cultural meaning to him as it might to someone from this planet.     He just shakes his head as Robin vanishes from sight.  "It's very sad," he finally says.  "It's a shame redactors don't exist on this planet; they could help him a great deal."  He shrugs.  "The only thing I ''can'' do is keep an eye out so that my friends and I aren't hurt by his incautiousness.  I wish I could do more." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Volt manages an awkward wave to the departing Robin.  And when he takes his leave, the teen exhales a puff of a sigh.  "I'm the new guy around here," he says, turning to Kían again.  "So not a lot that I have to say carries much weight.  Heck, I'm not even considered one of you.  But just speaking from experience, running with… err… less than savory types, the leader of the pack has to be recognized."     His gloved hands lift, fingers spread.  "Not saying you're wrong.  Not saying you're right.  Just, if you want peace, that's how you grease the wheels.  Gotta show the alpha dog that you recognize the chain of command.  Does that make any sense?"     Because at the very end there, Volt remembered he's talking to an alien person who may not have alpha dogs. 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     "Not really, no," Kían says.  "Her Serenity the ''q'Tar'' is our head of state and government, but she would never interfere with someone repairing the ''kirát''… sorry, the house control systems.  And the repair person would never offer his advice to Her Serenity unasked.  It's not each others' responsibility.  As it happens, I did train with Imperial Emergency Services for a while because of my ''rhy'thar''… sorry.  My powers.  So there ''is'' an area where I know what I'm doing, even if this planet is very little like home.  I don't believe he understands that there's more than just his way to do things.  I accept being shown wrong, but I don't expect to be."     He sighs, and he shrugs, and feathers rustle.  "Ah, well.  This isn't your responsibility either.  I'm not going to tell you not to listen to him—definitely not where fighting is concerned.  I respect your right to make your own decisions."  He grins slightly.  "And you're much better at telling me you think I'm wrong than he is." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Volt glances down at his boots, lips twisting a little.  Is there a way to clarify this to Mr. Birdman, Attorney at Squawk?  Maybe putting it bluntly is the only way.  He's pretty sure it won't make sense, but maybe he'll appreciate at least getting the 'rules', as it were, painted very clearly for him.     "It ain't even that, really.  You don't have to be wrong to still mis-step.  Like, if you're the best assassin ever, and you knew you could eliminate your… uh… Her Serenity's," he chances, assuming that's some kind of royalty and not a Sailor Moon reference, "target, and you knew that was what was what they wanted, but she told you no and decided to send in someone who was awful at it, you'd stay back, right?  I've felt that way a time or two here, like I know ''way'' more than what folks're givin' me credit, but I'll play second-fiddle until they think they can trust me with the big stuff.  I think that's why Robin's been cool about getting me hooked up with the stuff I asked for."     The look Volt gives Kían is, at least, hopeful.  "Does ''that'' make sense?  It's all about recognizing the person in charge and not telling' em to stuff it." 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     "Her Serenity would never order such a thing," Kían replies, a little shocked, eyes wide.  Looks like that's an example destined to miss its mark.     Sigh.     "This is what happens, I suppose, in a non-telepathic society.  Among my people, we just '''know'''.  Here, I can't touch your minds without also making physical contact… and you can't 'hear' mine in return, and I have had it told to me over and over that you like it that way and… well, I just can't understand that, but I suppose you're used to it.  I was surprised Robin came as close to me as he did.  He knows about that, and I can't imagine we would enjoy mental contact with each other."     Another sigh.     "But."  The word is bitten off.  "But I will not be asked by anyone, Robin or anyone else, to betray my conscience.  I don't care who he is, he may not order me to sin." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Hypotheticals didn't work!  Well, dang it.  Volt places a couple digits to his brow, rubbing over it vexedly.  "I dunno.  Maybe it'd do you two some good to cross brainwaves.  Develop some empathy or something that way."  Or convince themselves to kill each other.  He has no idea.  But if things escalate past what they're already at, what would be the difference?  Besides Kían maybe sinning.     Sinning?  Gracious.     His hand lowers again.  "For now, let's just try to not go so far that we can't come back, right?" 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     "If it comes to me leaving, well, I don't want to, but I can.  I don't think it will come to that.  And I have ''no'' interest in ousting him.  I know I haven't the skills to run a team.  I just don't think he does either."  Kían sounds almost indifferent.  "The reality is, I am responsible primarily to my own conscience.  I ''may not'' use my gifts to harm, regardless of what Robin or anyone else wants.  That's been difficult to explain to Earth people for some reason.  It took a while to explain to Stardust, but she does get it now."  He glances in the direction Robin disappeared, opens his mouth… then closes it again.  No, he's said his peace. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     "Hey, no, I get it.  Pacifist.  Like a monk.  It's cool, you don't gotta worry about explaining anything to me," Volt assures.     There really isn't anything left to say about it now, though.  It's a dicey angle, and certainly not one the black-and-green dynamo has enough pull to mediate.  He isn't sure he'd even ''want'' in the middle of this.  But trying to ease the situation seemed worth it, at least in the moment.  Didn't seem to take, but he gave it a whirl anyway.     "I'm gonna cool down.  Don't want the costume getting all gross with me sweating in it." 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían bows slightly.  "Again, my apologies, I would have liked to handle this in a different way, but this was the first real opportunity I've had to speak to him.  Nnh, speaking of handling things differently, I did say I would work with you since there's overlap between our powers.  We should definitely do that soon—but for now, I think I shall take a nice, mind-clearing flight.  Rest well." 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     Volt simply nods and makes a quarter turn, only to pause.  His right hand lifts, and suddenly a thin tendril of electricity arcs from his index finger to zap Kían!  The power output is extremely low, but were there no defense against it, it'd certainly sting!     Now, why would he do that?  Because Kían kept insisting he wouldn't get hurt if Volt zapped him, and Volt kept saying they needed to test it.  A tiny little arc wouldn't hurt, and taking him by surprise would be a pretty good way to gauge that natural resistance! 

:'''{{#var:80|Kían (80)}} has posed:'''     Kían has already turned, heading for the accessway to the roof; when it connects with him, it simply disappears in a fuzzy blue light.  He stops—he noticed it, at least, but he did not jerk as though on the receiving end of a shock—and turns.  His tone is easy and friendly.  "Sorry, I thought you were going to rest.  Was there something else you needed?"  Apparently, he just thinks Volt needed his attention…. 

:'''{{#var:1773|Drake Riley (1773)}} has posed:'''     And Volt's response is a snicker.  "Nope!  Just been forever and decided it was time to finally test something.  Laters!"  He turns, no further explanation given, and makes for his, sigh, not-a-member-yet room to clean up. 
}}

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Trdsf: THE FOR-MAT DAL-EK IS SAT-IS-FIED