3610/Robin's handiwork

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Robin's handiwork
Date of Scene: 08 January 2018
Location: Batcave, Gotham City
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: Robin (Wayne), Alfred Pennyworth, Batman




Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Robin had done it, along with his compatriots, had successfully brought in a large amount of Apokaliptan weapons from hitting the street. It was all in all a time to celebrate, but there were two very apparent reasons why Damian wouldn't have that.

  Robin had returned to the cave, the Redbird in automatic pilot while he couldn't use his own hands as well as usual. "Robin in the cave." He had hoped that Batman and/or Alfred hadn't seen what happened with the takedown quite yet, to give him enough time to put his fingers in splints and prepare an extensive list of just how this was a positive thing. The electric engines on the Redbird whir to a crawl as it parks itself, and Damian jumps off the motorcycle, immediately heading towards the med area.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     And of course luck would have to fail in this instance. A voice calls out calm and emotionless as a figure steps from the darkness right into the young wards path. Alfred dressed to the nines as always with an apron on over his suit and a pair of white surgical gloves on. "You know, if you're going to bleed all over my nice floor, you could at least wait until after I've finished buffering it."

     Perfectly polished dress shoes reflect Robins face right back at him as the Butler blocks the path expertly, hands folded one over the other. "Let's get you patched up." Spoken before even allowing a moments pause for explanation as he reaches down towards Damians hands.

Batman has posed:
    Batman does trust his comrades in arms. He does trust them to function alone. But the Dark Knight is also what one might consider... controlling. To such a degree that he may well not peruse all the data and video feeds in their entirety every time. But there are certain tell-tale readings that can trigger some of the warnings in the Batcomputer. Warnings that brought to his attention that Damian's vital signs had peaked beyond normal operating capacity and there were a series of medical alerts that had gone off.
    Immediately he had reviewed the data, had sought an explanation. And what he saw was not good. So when Robin's Redbird was already returning to the cave and Damian leapt off that motorcycle. Batman was already there, waiting, arms folded.
    At least he had done him the honor of not rushing out to handle the situation entirely himself. Small favors.
    "Damian. Let Alfred tend to you. Report."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
For a small moment, Damian had thought he had gotten away with it. His eyes close, once again the mask going dark, before he removes it. His deep green eyes open up, and Damian looks up at Batman, with a small sigh. "Myself and my teammates made our first move to be in the same division as the Justice League, that's what happened."

  A small moment of defiance takes heed to a real report. "We has intelligence that there was a large arms deal going on in the warehouse district." Damian removes his cape with a seethe at his hands. "They employed power armor and Apokaliptan weaponry. I took down three guards while the rest teleported the goods away from the scene. While I faced up one of the armored guards, one got in a hit with a Parademon Pain Stick. And something happened." Yes, he is keeping himself from admitting just what had happened, he knew full well what had one on.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     Alfred gets to work leading Damian over towards one of the medical tables as he gets his equipment ready for a bit of diagnostics work as it were. Of course it doesn't take a doctor to realize the boys hands are broken.

     With a bit of a low sigh he begins the medical procedure proper. "And?" Alfred asks while prepping the hands with a bit of a low sigh his attention fully focused on utilizing his training to make sure the broken limbs have a chance to set properly.

Batman has posed:
    A hand comes up sharply and then slashes to the side, as if slicing Damian's words in twain as he says sharply. "I need facts, details, leave the editorializing for while you're recovering." He steps forwards and moves with a gesture for Alfred to get in there and start tending to Damian even as the older man is assuredly already doing so. And should they start moving to a better location for him to start seeing to Damian's injuries he'll move along with.
    "/What/ happened?" Batman asks after Damian's explanation. The cowl does not hide the intensity in the man's eyes nor the sternness in his voice. He moves along and states, "Your vitals went haywire, beyond what is normally displayed and what would be there if you were suffering just intense pain." Since intense pain is really fairly common during each night.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian allowed Alfred to begin his work on his hands, which were bloodied and underneath the gloves, significantly black and blue. Robin's own adrenaline had long since worn off, and the young teen was fully aware of the pain shooting from his hands.

  Alfred's questioning had Damian calm until Batman makes it known he isn't satisfied. "The pain stick...made me lose control." That fact was a point of shame for Damian. "I nearly beat him to death through that milspec power armor, is that what you want to hear?! The pain was unlike anything I have felt. Grandfather made sure that I not only worked through pain, but thrived in it. The more I get hurt, the farther I can take my body, regardless of what it does to me."

  Bruce and Alfred know the kind of brutal methods were employed on Damian, the story of which was painted all over his torso, scarred from being the League's youngest master assassin, the heir to the Demon's Head. "Does that satisfy you, Father? Or had you hoped the monster you sired was gone for good?" He asks sharply, taking out his frustration on the nearest target, which was not what he should have done.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     The expression on Alfreds face as he works remains deadpan. A single eyebrow raising at the outburst while he works. Hands glide about working their magic as Alfred leans forward slightly doing a procedure he's already had to do countless times before and likely will have to do countless times more in his lifetime.

     It was something quite anger inducing the lengths that Ra's had gone to in order to turn a child into a killing machine, but Alfred wasn't about to let his emotions get the better of him while there was still work to be done. The young boy was going to need a cast, that much was crystal clear.

Batman has posed:
    "Damian," The word comes out perhaps slightly softer than the man usually speaks, he shakes his head, then pushes the cowl back from his eyes and lets it hang from the back of his cloak. The tall man in black frowns and steps forwards, kneeling nearby but making sure not to interfere with Alfred's work.
    The Dark Knight frowns and looks down and away, then back to Damian. "We are each of us... all of us." He looks around towards Alfred, then the other display cases of the bat suits of the people who have fought by his side, then towards the entrance of the bat cave as if seeing some of the people from across the time he's spent being the Batman. "We are touched by tragedy."
    He opens his hand in a small gesture to the side, "It presents us with this challenge. This defiance telling us that we can't go on, can't get past it. That is why we do what we do."
    His eyes narrow and he frowns faintly. "You are strong, stronger than I was at your age perhaps. You can't let these things control you. Can't let it define you. But we'll help you through it. I promise."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian's short haired head hangs a little low, in terms of where he had been and now, he was nowhere near the boy Bruce and Alfred had met before. But little things, small instances like this, haunted Damian, if only because he was supposed to be the perfect child soldier. In many cases he was, and reeling that back to be the hero he so desperately wanted to be, to be like Batman was an everyday battle. Most times it goes unnoticed to the rest of the family, but instances like this...is where one could see Damian at his truest, beyond the facade of monk-like discipline he erected like a wall around him. "I was going to kill that man, as easily as drawing a breath."

  "It won't happen again, Father." He says, finally looking up to both Alfred and Bruce. His green eyes not filled with rage, he was as sincere as he could be.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian's short haired head hangs a little low, in terms of where he had been and now, he was nowhere near the boy Bruce and Alfred had met before. But little things, small instances like this, haunted Damian, if only because he was supposed to be the perfect child soldier. In many cases he was, and reeling that back to be the hero he so desperately wanted to be, to be like Batman was an everyday battle. Most times it goes unnoticed to the rest of the family, but instances like this...is where one could see Damian at his truest, beyond the facade of monk-like discipline he erected like a wall around him. "I was going to kill that man, as easily as drawing a breath."

  "It won't happen again, Father." He says, finally looking up to both Alfred and Bruce. His green eyes not filled with rage, he was as sincere as he could be.

Batman has posed:
    Their eyes meet and Bruce extends a hand to the young man's shoulder, resting it there and holding firm as he looks to him. For a time it seems as if he's searching for something behind those irises, for the young boy who was forced to endure so much on his way to becoming the young ma that he is. He gives a single nod and then says in that sure tone of his, no hint of doubt seeping into those words. "No, you wouldn't have Damian. And no, it won't."
    Then he rises fully to his feet and looks sidelong towards Alfred, "Let me know if you need anything, Alfred. I'll see to getting something for us to eat." He turns to the side and starts to move away, for now leaving the other generations of the Wayne family together.

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "Killing a man is easy." Alfred finally speaks up while working diligently on damians hands. It's spoken so calmly and nonchalantly as he works that the subject matter just doesn't quite fit.

     "Life is a frail thing." As he brings his nose down lower to make sure and tie off the bandages properly. "One strong gust and the candle blows clean out." He pauses for a moment. "It's living with yourself afterwords that's the real challenge." He squints his eyes slightly.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian looks to the grandfather figure he had that never sent him on suicide missions. "I guess that goes hundreds fold for me." Robin adds in, before looking down at his hands. "How bad is it, Pennyworth?" He knew the answer, but surely he could be afforded some kind of hope that it isn't as bad as it is. "Other than this sh&$, the mission went well, all things considered. The group needs more training to gel well. But they are good at what they do."

Alfred Pennyworth has posed:
     "Well you won't be playing tennis any time soon." Alfred states calmly while pulling back from Damians hands looking down at his own handiwork. "Nor piano." He pauses for a long moment. "The broken bones in each of your hands will need time to heal, but the pain should settle down somewhat now that I've gotten you all bandaged up."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian looks to his hands, now bandaged up, it wouldn't be the last time he would need a cast, but this was the first time he wouldn't be able to at least draw whilst recovering. "At least I don't have a concussion." I juries come with the job. you learn to take the little blessings where they lie. At least there would be food to come.