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2010-06-12 - Uncharted Territory
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| Uncharted Territory | ||||
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| Summary: An early morning chat. | ||||
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The Batcave is usually a silent place. Something about the enormous cathedral of natural stone and the additions to it over Batman's career seems to absorb and even forbid noise beyond the occasional purr of an engine coming to life or the chittering, almost inaudible noises of the bats themselves, in the deeper parts of the cavern complex. Tonight is little different. Having finished a fairly disappointing patrol early, Robin is back in the cave working off energy and tension that should have been usefully exhausted on hapless criminals by running through a series of staff drills in the gym area, on one of the wide mats. His tunic is neatly laid aside, but he retains his tights and boots as well as his mask as he whirls, ducks, spins and occasionally adds in an acrobatic maneuver, all the while keeping the metal rod spinning and slamming it into a semi-circle of sparring dummies at varying rates of speed and different angles. His own breathing, forced to a regular rhythm, the whir and thump of the staff and the sound of feet bouncing and sliding on the mat are simply absorbed by the cave, more than a few yards away.
There's hardly any noise to indicate that Damian Wayne, aka Rook has arrived into the batcave. Unlike Robin, Damian's preference in weaponry tends more to those of the lethal nature. Thankfully Batman confiscated his sword, but did leave him with one of the practice variety that he carries strapped to his back. "Still fighting the dummies instead of doing real work." The boy says in a voice that seems to be almost ready to break.
Robin 's eyebrows lower and his jaw sets as he finishes the set with perhaps a bit more force than is strictly needed, causing the last dummy to rock back and a small red light to flash on its chest, indicating a hit that would have shattered the jaw of a human target and thus beyond 'acceptable' levels of force for every day use. He winces faintly at his momentary lack of control and clicks the button that unlocks the sliding sections of the staff, whirling it clock-wise and then counter so the two ends slide back by the force of the motion and lock into place, turning the five foot length of metal into a two foot metal bar that he puts back in the holster on his belt before turning around to face Damian. His tone is at odds with the tension in his shoulders, a level, clear tenor as he says, "Slow night. What are you doing up?"
"I don't sleep as much as you do." Damian says smirking a little bit at Robin as he stands there looking at the boy wonder with a casual expression on his face and looking both confident and relaxed right now. "Having some trouble with your movements?" He asks with that cocky little smirk as he did indeed notice that Robin lost control even for a moment. His eyes glitter with wicked glee at it really.
Robin fights back a sigh as he grabs a towel and scrubs the sweat of his face, chest and back. He looks towards Damian and says, "Just a little more enthusiasm when I think of hitting some people than others." Immediately after saying it, his expression turns slightly guilty and shamed. He does sigh this time and heads for his tunic, glancing sideways at the boy but perhaps too stubborn or proud to apologize, even if he was rising to bait. This is actually fun for the youngest member of the Bat family.
Damian's enjoying making the boy wonder lose his cool. "I get the same way. Certain people make me hit those things much harder than is necessary as well." He says stretching a little bit, his eyes flicking towards the older boy's face intently,"Course there's nothing wrong with a little violence against those who deserve it now and again."
Robin shrugs into his tunic , pulling it straight and tucking it under his belt, pulling things straight and considering his next words carefully. "I think Batman would agree with you there. And sometimes I do too. But the problem is that we're already in kind of uncharted territory with what we do. The whole crime fighting thing. We have to be careful about how far we're willing to push it. Some violence comes with the job. A lot of violence, actually. But our response to it has to be, um, moderated. Careful. Or we end up being just another themed gang in Gotham."
"Violence is part of life. You can either run from it embrace it." Rook says shaking his head a bit,"You're really serious aren't you? You actually think that we can be careful and do what we do? If we were careful we'd go out there in armor that left no room for things to hurt us and then we'd not do much good." He says grimacing a little bit, "Sometimes I think grandfather's way is a good thing for those who cannot be rehabilitated. Elimination."
Robin arches an eyebrow and asks, "What -we- do?" His tone is a little dry at that and he says, "And that attitude is precisely why you're trouble, Damian. Your grandfather is wrong. And honestly, he kind of makes me sad. That's a whole lot of genius and drive -wasted-. To the point where somebody who could make the world a much better place leaves it a lot worse." He pauses for a moment, crossing to a mini-fridge tucked away under one of the computer work stations and taking out a bottle of water then looking over his shoulder, as though asking Damian if he wants one as well before continuing, "Here's the thing. We -have- to walk that line. We -must-. Because we, maybe better than anybody else in the world, deal with the people who cross it."
"But sometimes you have to wonder. How many more people die because we don't end it. Every time those people escape from Arkham, they kill people. How many of those people now bear sadness because we keep just putting those people in there." Damian says frowning darkly, "And grandfather does what he thinks he needs to do. Whatever else you can say about him, he stays to his ideals, just like father. As long as father says don't kill, I won't." The last bit is said narrowing his eyes and his chin tilted in a challenging as if daring Robin to call him a liar.
Robin straightens up and cracks the seal on the bottle of water, taking a long drink. He says, quietly, "They make their choices. We make ours. Just because they make the wrong ones doesn't mean we should make the wrong ones too." He leans on the work station, watching Damian and continues, "Sure. Ok, let's say we all cross that line and start killing people. Where do we stop? Joker? Evil. Kill him. Two-face? Mentally unstable. Put him down for the good of humanity. The Penguin? Organized crime boss and facilitator. Kill him and take the head off his gang. Catwoman? How many times has she gone back to being a thief? Your granddad and your mom? How many people have -they- killed? We don't cross that line because taking human lives is a step that can't be un-taken. Even when it means we have to keep fighting the same creeps again and again. Because if we kill them, we just take their place." He pauses at that last bit and says, flatly, "I believe you. But I also don't think that's enough."
"My mother does not usually kill people." Damian points out, "Not as the primary thing. The Joker and his ilk kill people often just to kill them. They have no purpose to it than to killing." Damian says shaking his head a little bit, "And what's not enough? That I have given my word? You think I'd break my word to my father? That would be just pure idiocy." He says shaking his head a bit at Robin, "This is your problem. You think of things from the perspective of someone who wants to live. I've spent my life having to put my life on the line." Which might explain why the boy is so fucked up.
Robin tries to keep the irony in his voice muted as he says, "She -usually- doesn't kill people." He waves away that line of conversation with the bottle of water and says, "No, it's not enough because to do this job -right- you have want to do it. For the right reasons. Otherwise, you're just waiting to be Bane or Azrael or some other psycho who thinks he can be Batman one of these days. And yea, ok, you've had a bad life. So did Jason Todd. And look where a wide streak of ruthlessness and anger got him. And look where -that- took Batman." He pauses and says, "I don't have anything against you, Damian. I know you don't believe that but it's true. But I think that right now you're a weakness when you -should- be a resource. That's what we're supposed to be for him, Batman. We're not just junior partners. We're supposed to be lights in all that darkness around him. And you're just the opposite."
"I will do whatever he wants me to do. Why do you think I don't carry my sword or the knives that my sensei gave me when I left." Damian says frowning, "And I can't be Batman. Maybe one day but I am no where near the level of anything that would be necessary for that. Nightwing is the closest." And he's been known to actually be as close to nice as he can get when he's not playing the role of Damian Wayne, when it comes to Nightwing. "I don't let my anger rule me in a fight, or even let it choose my fights for me. That would not be what my teachers have taught me."
Robin sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "That's the thing. He doesn't need you do whatever he tells you do. He needs you to do whatever is -right-. Even when he doesn't see it himself." He nods and says, "And yea, Dick is probably going to be the next Batman when Bruce is done. As it should be. But that doesn't mean you can't carve out a spot for yourself. A -good- spot. Doing good work." He pauses and says, "Right now, you're Bruce Wayne's son and heir. But you need to get the point where you're good enough, in skill and otherwise, to be -Batman's- son and heir."
"So are you." Damian says looking at Robin with that cold look of his, "You have been adopted which means you're also an heir. We're all heirs, to his fortune and to his legacy. Whether we want to think about it or not, that's a fact that nothing can change. Even if I killed you right here and now, you're still someone he has judged worthy." He says looking like the words taste sour coming from his lips, "So for now, I can only do what he wants me to do and prove myself."
Robin grins a little wryly. He looks around first, as though to make sure Batman isn't nearby, listening and then says, in a quieter tone of voice. "Not really. I mean, Dick is the son of Bruce's heart, you know? The son he never had until you came along. And you're the son of his body. And that's a powerful thing. Me? I'm some kid who talked his way into being Robin and appointed himself junior detective. Bruce made me his ward because it keeps things clean and simple and makes it easier to do the job. But I'm not on the same level as you and Dick." He takes a sip of his water, trying to sound matter of fact and not quite pulling it off. "So, you know, you don't have to worry about going all Richard the Third on me. Even if you could. Which you can't. Because you've already -won- that fight just by being born." He pauses and says, "And we all have to prove ourselves to him. Every day. But you need to also figure out a way out of that whole chibi-Vader thing you've got going on and come over the light side, if you -really- want to help him."
"For a smart guy you're pretty stupid." Damian says looking at Robin, "Do you think father would have just let you take on the mantle of Robin if he didn't think you had the potential? If you weren't a son to him, do you think he would have kept you on when I showed up? You don't give father enough credit. He's not like grandfather who would have willingly pitted us against each other to find out who was stronger." He says all of this quite bitterly, "What the hell is chibivader and what the hell are you talking about?" Yes. Star Wars references lost on boy who has no social skills really unless he's pretending.
Robin grins and says, "You aren't the first person to say that to me." He pauses and says, "And I'm just saying that I'm a resource first, I think. And I'm okay with that. Bruce doesn't need his life any more complicated than it is." He blinks at the last bit and says, "Wait, you've never seen Star Wars? Like not even the prequels?" There is a moment of hesitation on his part and gingerly, as though he's sliding a plate of raw meat into a tiger's cage, he adds, "Ah, we need to get you a pop culture education. Criminals reference this stuff. It's, um, homework, more or less. So if you want to sit down and watch a movie one of the days...."
"I think you're selling yourself short to try and make me compliment you." Damian says grimacing, "And I have never even heard of it. Most of the kids at school talk about shows like Heroes, Dexter, and things like that. I have never heard of Star Wars." He doesn't watch television, just goes online and reads the synopsis so that he can come off as if he actually has a clue about what he's talking about. "And I keep hearing about some movies but I just tell them that my father makes me do homework every night and so I never get a chance for them until they're on video."
Robin laughs and shakes his head, "Fishing for compliments isn't my style. But yea, we -do- need to get you a practical grounding in this stuff. Otherwise, it's like, um, an assassin trying to be stealthy in territory that he hasn't scouted." Apparently trying to make it seem relevant to Damian's interests. He shrugs and says, "We'll set you up an iStore account and stuff. You need to blend. And who knows, maybe a couple of comedies will totally lighten you up and make you into a cheerful, fun-loving guy." He doesn't try to hide his grin at that last sentence.
"An Assassin being stealthy in a territory not scouted is simple. You just move slowly and carefully." Damian says shrugging a little bit, "Why would watching comedies lighten me up?" He asks blinking a little bit, "And if it is necessary then I will. Training in all things. There are times I wonder how well my camouflaging is among my peers." He is a creepy dude sometimes, but at least there have been no calls for Bruce to the Principals office since the first day when someone made the mistake of picking a fight and got a broken arm and leg out of it.
Robin sighs and takes another sip of his water, shaking his head and not quite mastering that urge to grin again. "Ah, yea. Yay. I'm the pop-culture ambassador to a homicidal Vulcan." He pauses and then says, quietly, again a bit carefully, "Ok. I don't expect us to end up best friends or anything. But you know, if you need help with that stuff, figuring out what makes normal American teenagers tick and all that? I'm the only one in the Cave to have a fairly normal childhood and adolescence. I'll help out where I can." He straightens up and stretches a little and says, "And I think I'm going to do something us Bat-types never get to do. I'm going to go to bed early enough to get up before noon."