2329/A little Light in Blackgate

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A little Light in Blackgate
Date of Scene: 05 September 2017
Location: Blackgate Prison
Synopsis: Damian Wayne meets Doctor Light in Blackgate Prison, where he awaits trial. Arrogant as ever, the Doctor boasts over the plans of his associates at Meta Solutions and other front companies: In Robin's case, that they may have sought to reverse-engineer the effects of the Lazarus Pit through his own connection to his grandfather. Whether this boast holds any true possibility? Who is to say.
Cast of Characters: Deathstroke, Robin (Wayne)




Deathstroke has posed:
Blackgate Prison is a grim and imposing facility, hardly a beacon of justice so much as a grim dungeon, a bastion where Gotham locks away its vicious and dangerous and then promptly tries to forget about them. Needless to say, it's a dangerous place, and its record on basically every standard a prison might be measured on is quite blemished: internal violence and riots, corruption among the guards, and of course, not infrequent escapes. Perhaps it would have been better if Dr. Light had been transported somewhere more secure, although by whatever fate of jurisdictional squabbles, he's ultimately been sent here to stew with Gotham's worse. Of course, the grim prison does offer some opportunities that better-regulated facilities might frown upon.

Batman has enough working influence with the Warden to secure a visit inside for one of his proteges, although it's quicky apparent to Damian that no single man holds total authority here. Individual guard captains run schemes and maintain their own little fiefdoms, with criminal gang leaders operating almost as legitimate counterparts within their individual prison territories.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     The imposing structure that is Blackgate only serves to steel the young Robin's resolve. Many of the guards look down upon Damian with his short frame, though the more wise among them don't bother with poking the hornet's nest. Of course, Damian was suited up to the nines in his Robin garb, the lenses of his mask allow him to adjust his gaze upon whoever he chose, without them seeing him specifically.

  A door opens in the one-on-one visitation area, and Robin enters. Boots clapping against the concrete floor, his short frame just keeping him at the same level as the seated Doctor Light. "Doctor...I have some questions for you." He offers, knowing full well Batman was either watching from his suit cam or would review the footage later.

Deathstroke has posed:
The CO that accompanies Damian along to the interview seems a coldly disinterested sort, overall, paying little attention to some of the typical shouts and jeers that may come from cells as the pair navigate prison corridors. Eventually, they navigate toward where Light has been taken, and as the guard allows Damian inside, he finally shows a little color, sneering a bit over the chained up doctor, who looks a fairly... well, less impressive older man stripped of his suit and lab coat, in just a prison jumper. He looks a little roughly worn, perhaps not enjoying his stay at the prison so much, and likely his arrogant attitude not endeering him to the population much.

"Yeah, this one's a real number. Hasn't quite gotten it through his head that he's not a bigshot in here," the guard offers in somewhat smug fashion. "Not exactly making too many friends, or at least, not the sort that matter. Anyway, I'll give you two a little privacy... don't abuse it *too* much?"

With that, he shrugs and heads out, letting the interview room door close behind. Light remains in his seat, sneering across. "Yes yes, very ominous, officer! I'm quaking in my standard-issue boots!"

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Robin gives the guard a nod. "Thank you, sir." He offers, before the door closes and the young hero crosses over to the table, pulling the seat and sitting down. His young frame barely touches the floor.

  "I won't waste your time asking why you and that -non-ja attacked me. I want to know what you wanted with the Pits." Robin opens a his utility belt, withdrawing two blunt batarangs, slipping his fingers in the convenient holes on their frames. "And you can be assured, I am -looking- for a reason to rough you up, so by all means, resist."

Deathstroke has posed:
Light gives a little laugh, seemingly at the threat. "Oh yes. Compared to the rest of the ruffians that inhabit this place, you are clearly a vision of terror!" Then, his smirk twisting into something cruel and mocking, he points out, "And haven't you and the Bat kept up? Torture hasn't been in vogue since 'Twenty Four' was popular on TV, the information it gets you is unreliable!"

Unable to offer a proper gesture of helpless uncertainty with his hands chained, he merely shrugs his shoulders a bit. "And besides, I am not sworn to any of these people to the point I'd care to suffer for them. But there's only so much I can tell you, that you and the Bat couldn't sort out from the obvious? My employers are interested in the exceptional, the metahuman. Frankly, you *barely* qualified, except as bait for your more powerful companions.

And then, in his most dismissive tone, "The *only* thing remarkable about you is your descent from a man who keeps himself from dying."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian looks to the man in chains, giving a hearty grimace to the man. "Watch your tongue...knave. Or have it cut from your head." The kid was seething at this point. "I am -much- more than just his grandson."

  Stge former Assassin had been much more in line with his father's philosophies than that of his mother and grandfather. "And -you- are hardly on par with that of your employers, an AI motorcycle took you down."

Deathstroke has posed:
"Oh, certainly you have other skills. But as far as your blood, as far as your flesh and bones are concerned, that you are his grandson seems is the only thing remarkable about you," Light points out. "We did take some brainwave readings too, regarding any development of your motor reflexes, but really, that sort of thing is commonplace. They could get as good or better from the man who brought you to them, as easily as from you."

Again, his attitude is rather dismissive, and he sits back as if relaxed, and the insults levied at him brushed off. "Oh please. Your little toy only rolled in after that Witch had turned her powers against me. Without backup, you would have been well out of your league, I think!"

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     A scowl on the face of the young man appears before he leaps across the metal table, not punching the man's head or face, only his midsection and chest. He's looking for the pain, if only to cause it. "What" SMACK! "do" THUD! "they" BIFF! "want with the Pits?!" The young Robin was thoroughly angry at this point.

Deathstroke has posed:
The sudden violence takes the Doctor quite unawares, and he doubles over at the blow, obviously far from being able to defend himself from it. The sound of breath expelled forcefully from his midsection seems to draw no concern from the guard without, who seems unbothered by a little violence carried out in the flickering light of the cell. For Blackgate, this sort of thing is business as usual!

The doctor is left doubled over and coughing, trying to collect himself. "Wh-what, what do I know?" he wonders. "I am not, I was not hired for *that* portion of the research. Only for collecting the data, operating the prototype machine." He slowly draws himself back up, still sneering. "But honestly... what do you *think* they want with it? What could they possibly want? Can't you answer it yourself? Isn't it obvious, BOY?"

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     The punches stop as Robin is satisfied with the outcome. "I may not have powers, but I certainly don't need them to get even." Robin leans up the chair, bringing it back to the table. "The al Ghuls protect the Lazarus Pits, and you would need much more than an army to take them over."

  "Now, you can start your road to becoming a productive member of society by letting me know one more thing: where can I find your employer?" He offers, placing the blunted batarangs back into his utility belt.

Deathstroke has posed:
"Boy, boy... you're still not catching on," Light continues, that rather gratingly smug and superior smirk of his never fully fading, even in the face of violence. "Don't you see? You've already failed to protect them. You failed the moment we took you."

With that, he leans back a little on the chair. "That question depends on definitions. If you tracked us to the docks, I suspect you and the Bat already have everything I could give you, about Meta Solutions and some of the other intermediary operations. But even you should realize that's not where the story ends. Sadly, it's as much as I can tell you, young Bat."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Robin gives a groan, yet a devilish smile on his face. "Funny thing is, I never needed to use the pit." Which means the boy's natural proclivity towards violence, and sadistic nature come from his genes, or at the least, how he was raised. "No bother, I doubt there is much more you can tell me. I will simply move forward from here then." Damian looks towards the villain. "Good luck with the trial." He says, knocking on the door to be let out, since he would be leaving, rather than incarcerated.

Deathstroke has posed:
"Oh, we're aware. Yet there is some belief that through his own repeated use of it, your grandfather has taken on the legacy of the pit in a more *permanent* fashion," Light explains. "That it has, in some way, almost certainly *changed* him. And if it has changed him, then that change lives on in you, in a way we may be able to reverse engineer." Once challenged on their plot, the Doctor seems more than willing to brag a little of the details, perhaps something he might not have gotten into otherwise. Pride is often where he falls.

"But I suppose epigenetics isn't your area of expertise. Indeed, it may be beyond even the Bat's level of scientific prowess." And as usual, the man smirks. "Yet it is hardly beyond my own, even if the biological is typically not my... interest. It is so pedestrian, you know, such matters of blood and flesh, of crude organic compounds, compared to the elegance of the electron and the world of the subatomic."

As the man continues to go on (and on), Robin is met at the door, the guard allowing him out and then securing it closed behind them. The Doctor's face leers out at through the small window as they depart, framed in the flickering of the bare bulb above him. "Good luck with my associates. You'll need it."