1551/Kid Bat and Lil Devil

Kid Bat and Lil Devil
Date of Scene:	19 July 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Robin (Wayne)

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Nightwing has posed:
    With hours split between Bludhaven and Gotham, that left precious few for a fellow to just be Dick Grayson. It required a shuffling of priorities, and an attempt to get some assets in place to supplement the young Bat's operations. Not to mention trying to finagle a cover in between the matters that constantly seem to pop up and demand attention. But for the vigilante known as Nightwing these things weren't so much ordeals as the spice of life.
    Yet it did, at times, leave him with threads in the wind that need tending to. And one of those just so happens to be his connection to hearth and home. Wayne Manor barely sees the long shadow of Master Grayson, only a few times a month at the most. But when he arrives Alfred is always there with a smile and a greeting as well as shared kind words. At times perhaps pointed words as well. But today they pertained to an entirely new situation.
    Damian. Now that was a surprise. Not unwelcome assuredly, but still. Yet if Bruce had allowed him in the mansion, gave him the truth as to his identity. Then he was part of the family, that much was certain.
    So with a word from Alfred, Dick set off into the depths of the manor to search out the young man. Footsteps quiet as he wanders in the direction of the room where Alfred said he was, and upon reaching it he'll pause long enough to call out, "Hellooo?"

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     After being jumped on the Gotham streets, gassed, bataranged, strapped to a chair and made to escape from his bonds as a test, the young lad was told to make a choice. Damian had indeed made his choice for now. He stayed when his father left for Metropolis with the unnerving silent woman. The boy had made himself as comfortable as he could. The plush bed had not suited him and he had moved a sheet to the floor of his room. Damian had occupied his downtime with a book, The Art of War, which he had already read multiple times before. He had heard steps from the hallway, different steps than Alfred's. Damian quickly leapt up to hide behind the door. His sword and knuckled gloves had been taken away from him and he was dressed in a white t-shirt with gym shorts. Given the...aroma of the League uniform he had been wearing for a week, Alfred had insisted the young master allow him to wash it. Which Damian had originally refused, but Pennyworth had his ways. When Damian had enough time, he made a rallying cry, aiming to kick the former Robin.

Nightwing has posed:
    The rallying cry is the dead give away. Not that it's always a bad idea, and not that it's always a bad idea immediately before an ambush, since indeed that had helped Hannibal at the battle of Cannae. But in this particular situation... it might not have been tactically sound.
    A quick step back and a hand on the door brought it back in time just enough in line to foul that kick with a /whumpf/ of it hitting the door, rocking it in the senior Robin's hand as he braces it. Then roughly snaps it forward to swing back at Damian if only to get the kid to clear the distance between the two of them and force a recalculation of tactics before another attack.
    "Alfred said you were a handful." He steps to the side further into the room, looking around it a bit before looking back at Damian, perhaps gauging if there are to be continued hostilities. "My name's Dick, Dick Grayson."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Had indeed been knocked back, enough to put Grayson's desired space between the two. "Oh yeah? What else did he say?" The spitfire had his hands up still. He remembered Dick from the charity ball. Damian had made sure to be there for that purpose. The boy looked like a spitting image of his father at his age, although he had the green eyes of an Al Ghul. Damian had decided to make a game of this, lunging at Dick for a punch.

Nightwing has posed:
    It's enough to cause Dick to be taken aback for a moment. Damian can read it on him, the small smile, the minor look of incredulity in his eyes. It was like he was looking at those scrapbooks he had flipped through years before, finding the face staring back at him here in the flesh.
    "That you're in a difficult situation," Dick stops walking around the room and then leans back against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He tilts his head to the side as he looks at the young man and murmurs, "Things are in transition for you. Chances are you probably feel a bit adrift. Sorta how I felt when I came here."
    There's a pause, just a single beat and he then adds with a wry smile, "Maybe a little more angry. But still."
    Of course that's the moment when Damian's fist comes flashing in towards Dick's face and /WHAM!/ hits the wall as the young acrobat plants a hand on the bed and /vaults/ over it with a flip, landing on the other side for now.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian let out a tsk as his fist hit the wall. He groaned in anger, before stopped in his tracks when he processed the words Dick had spoken. He soon shook it off, leaping across the bed. He jumped on his toes. "That's the problem with you all. Trying to make peace with everything when it's easier to make it by force, just like the Veteran's ball." He attempts a leg sweep, though as Dick could probably tell his mind was hardly focused, scattered.

Nightwing has posed:
    "See that's the thing," Dick plants a hand on the tall bannister of the bed, using it to aid his balance as he darts forwards running /up/ the side of the wall and over that sweep, flipping back around to land on the other side with a /thubba-thump/. He steps back a few more steps to get around towards the other side of the bed and the door there.
    But he winces a moment as he sees his shoeprints on the wall, "Aww man, Alfred is going to hate that."
    Then it's back to Damian as he holds up a hand, "That's the thing Damian, maybe you're seeing all these people wanting to make peace and do right by you as a sign of weakness. But if you look at it... it's a strength. The easier way would be for him to spurn you, ignore you, toss you aside, or destroy you. But to try and bring you in the fold. Yeah... that's not gonna be easy."
    Another step back towards the door, "Oh hey that was you then wasn't it..." He smiles and sighs, "Man I shoulda said something."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian was quickly to his feet again after his failed attempt. "At least if he had spurned me I could have gone back to the League!" He yells out, having broken his own composure. "But no...he didn't." Damian lowers his fists, which were starting to shake. "He said stay here, or don't. And I stayed, like some kind of...dog waiting for a damn treat. 'Don't kill in my city, or else I'll take you down.'" Damian had said in a perfect mimicry of Batman. "'You have two minutes to break yourself free.' 'You're coming with me, Damian, NOW'" The boy sighed gently, his shoulders now lowering. It had to happen sometime, it just seems to have happened in front of Dick.

Nightwing has posed:
    Standing there near the door, like some solemn sentinel, Nightwing looks across the way towards Damian and smiles faintly, perhaps recognizing small touches of himself in the young man's unhappiness. Oh his experience had been different assuredly, but the core feelings are there. The lack of a center, instability, inability to know what is to come and why. How to possibly reach through that mantle to get at the man inside who was to be... father?
    But Dick steps forwards and rests his hand upon the wooden column at the corner of the bed, "Damian. I know this will seem like so much dross right now, at this point in life. But it's the truth. He wants the best for you. He wants to be able to open to you. But it is as hard for him now as it is for you. He just... hides it. He has for a long time."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     "I guess you would know..." Damian replies, his voice returning to normal. "I had expected all this from my grandfather, he took every opportunity to test." The boy opened up a bit, his hands still shook from adrenaline. He had such ferocity, unchecked ferocity.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Look," Dick tilts his head towards Damian and smiles faintly, though it may be small... it's sincere and assuredly he's had some training of body language, micro tells. This whole time Dick has been speaking words he believes at the least. And now he does the same. "At the very worst look at it as a transaction of time for knowledge and insight. You can gain much by spending time here, and interacting with us at least on some level of genuine contact. Maybe after a while... you'll see that we don't want to screw you over or trap you or whatever."
    He smirks and spreads his hands, "Since hey at the end of it you can just leave and you'll be none the worse."
    A step back is taken and he rests a hand on the doorjam of the room, "I'll be around Damian, maybe if you want we'll take a run through the city tonight."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian did have the training, but hardly any of the wherewithal to use it at the moment. "Very well, Grayson. It doesn't hurt to try." His words were sincere, but his future actions, that's for time to tell. He had been programmed for nothing but killing and to lead humanity to the League's perfection. His merely being here was a dreadful deviation from their plan. "Maybe." He says, the boy needed a respite to gather himself.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Seeya later, kiddo." Dick lifts a hand in a small wave and then slips out the door. Outside in the hall he'll reflect that indeed that was... a thing. That happened. He takes a deep breath and glances back down the hallway. Poor kid.