Practice Chat

NW

"This way, I'm Nightwing," I tell him, standing straight and study him. "The original Robin, his oldest brother. You're the person he was talking about training then?" See that went well...

Will

Yup alias.

I smirk, so Damian's meantioned me. "So he told you about me? Hmm, can't imagine the wonderful things he must've said. Hope you didn't get the wrong impression."

Or possibly the right one. Depending on how this will go.

NW

I just shrug. "He said he had to train something. The lack of skill didn't necessarily mean the lack of potential." Perhaps I had to convince Damian of that last sentence, but he still admitted to it. Getting better...slowly.

Will

"He said that?" I say, surprised. Damian was constantly informing me of what I did wrong, no praise but hey, not much different from home. "He's never said anything about me having potential."

NW
"Because he wants to make you angry," I point out again, leaning against the wall with my arms crossed with a small smile. "You just have to have fun with it though. Just as he does."

Will

"If it will make him angry, I will," I mutter. "I seem to be good at doing that...not that I'm not trying." I smirked, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "Every once in a while I get Cox though instead of 'mindless puppet' or the plethora of insults he likes to give."

NW

"Didn't say that. I said for his insults not to make such a big impact. He knows what to do with yelling; he doesn't know how to react to laughter," I say. "Knocks him down a notch. But he's not one to go for the 'I get you' line." In that regard, I suppose he was like Spades... Just about as violent as when she came in as well.

Will

"Interesting," I grin, glancing at the hallway where Damian had left. "...When do you suppose, Robin will come back anyway...?"

NW
"Eh, when he's calmed down a bit. He's not one to like losing control," I murmur, studying William. Simply leave Damian to deal with him or do something... You could tell the kid liked to play around. I knew Damian could handle himself, but having him call the kid by his last name bothered me. It shouldn't, but it did. Damian didn't know what to do with actual interactions, even less so with someone his age. He always tried to butt heads, and usually it was him frustrating someone beyond belief, someone blatently ignoring it, or someone mediating the situation to try to have him understand. The kid probably fired comments right back, did some sort of role reversal...

Will

Neither was I, it wasn't something I enjoyed. Damian, though, liked to push buttons and play with anger like fire. Anger was easy to spread, set the base, add some kindle, and you'd get yourself a roaring fire. All it takes is just one single spark and you can get them going. Damian was like a match, ready to strike a fight.

But I could fight fire with fire if I needed to.

"So...Mount Justice, huh?" I say, looking around.

Hey. I liked playing with fire too.

NW
I wander back to the couch, retrieving Damian's things. "Yup. Young Justice is based here, run by Arrowette. The other kids are out, I believe..." Glancing back at Will, I give a small smile. "Would you like a break from everything, or should I go get Robin back?" I ask him.

Will

"Prefer you would go get robin, please." I say, slightly irritated that I couldn't push buttons. Nightwing didn't seem to let things effect him easily. I was uncomfortable here though, I didn't like unfamiliar territory.

NW

I sling his cloak over one of my shoulders, looking back at him. "Something bothering you?" Besides the obvious... My patience has always helped me so much. Spades first, Chelsea - though to a lesser degree, and now Damian.

Will

"Nothing," I snap slightly, glancing back at him before looking away again. I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose to calm myself down.

NW

"Mhmm. Right..." I reply skeptically, tilting my head at him curiously. "You can talk now, calm down a bit before Robin comes back in to try to light the fuse again..."

Will

"I don't know you," I snap again, "why should you care?"

What was with him and caring, I didn't know him. I wasn't like him. He was a superhero, a protagonist, he fought for good things and threw people like me in jail. I, at least, had something in common with Damain.

What? Did he think he could save me?

NW

Damian comes out, arms crossed and snobbish look to his expression, walking over to snatch his cloak from me. "Sounds familiar," he says to Will as he clasps the fabric back over his shoulders.
"It's nice to see you too," I tell him, my eyes showing a bit of amusement as I poking his mask crookedly to his face with a smile. "How's it going?"
"Brother..." He grabs away his gloves, glaring at me. "...What are you doing here?"
He couldn't very well call me 'Grayson', as usual. Though not my title of Nightwing, he was still respecting my identity as we had discussed, not giving my name in front of a civie. He was learning, really trying, though absolutely trying to hide how he was struggling in the real world. "Figured I'd see what you made such a hype about..."
He looks away, eyebrows drawing closer together on the subject of the present boy. You really had to study him, catch the little changes to get a read on him. Caught talking about William. Did what he say come out while he was away? Did it change Will's thinking of him? Lots of questions buzz across his face before he catches himself a moment later, returning to an undreadable look like Bruce's.

Will

"Can we go now? I don't appreciate you dragging me to some unknown location and ditching me." I grumble, crossing my arms in frong of my chest.

Yeah. Next time. To the Cause.

I will not be toted around like some obediant dog.

NW
"It's not an 'unknown location', it's a kitchen. It that's too foreign and phobia inducing, then there isn't a hope for you in the world," Damian snaps back, crossing his arms once his gloves are on and his mask set straight. He's joking, of course, but everything is serious. Hard body language, no smile, empty voice, judging glare. As I said, trying...understanding however, is a totally different ballpark.
I smile for him, as usual, give a little chuckle. "At least it's not the Cave," I add in. Hopefully Will would get it. He didn't exactly grow up in a place that allowed any childhood, no emotions even. "I have to deliver something to Oracle. D'you know where she is?"
"Preening her pet bird somewhere, I'm sure," he mumbles, walking off with a slight look at Will to follow after a moment's consideration. Still doesn't want to address the Chelsea issues then...

Will

The Bat Cave. My first guess.

I frown, giving a nod at Nightwing before following Damian. I'd hold my tongue till we got to the training room, so he wouldn't get the oppertunity to ditch me.

I walk down the tunnel, trailing behind wordlessly, but not too far back for him to loose me.

Damian
I stay silent, not insecurely so. Surely not. There just wasn't anything to say. ...What did Grayson tell him...

No, not curious.

...What did he say to Grayson...

Shutup!

Will

I continue to follow, lapsing in silence and into my thoughts for a bit.

How could Nightwing have so much patience with Damian?

Was that even possible....?

I mean.....

THIS WAS DAMIAN FOR PETE'S SAKE.

Damian

And then Turrow rounded the corner, since life couldn't possibly get any better right this second. It was still odd to see her now, after all I had seen from Mother about her placed her as the second Batgirl after Oracle was crippled. Ex-partner of the Joker, and before that the blank faced child of the Lux Team, now adopted child of Gordon.

Her files were an interesting read. Boarderline personality disorder, diagnosed at seven years old. Senses a person's fears, therefore making her one of my greater threats... I didn't like people reading me so easily. My thoughts were my own, and no one else's - as Will had learned.

She died a year ago, she and Spades. It lead to my first meeting with my brothers, after they had sought out my grandfather's help to bring them back. Her reaction to the Lazarus Pit was quite a negative one with her preexisting condition; her Lazarus Craze was a harsh one.

She was Blackbird now. A bit of irony from the Pit, or perhaps act of whatever god rules it, but the wounds across her back from the bomb that killed her and Spades had healed to give her her Mark of the Lazarus. The black marks of her scars very closely resemble that of a bird. It's something she hides from, however. I don't think she ever shows that mark to anyone.

The sixteen year old's shoulder length straight blonde hair was tied back, a sign that she was just released from a lesson from Oracle. Her crimson red eyes were cast down to the floor, her face blank, asymmetrical bangs hanging down into her face. Around her neck was a ribbon, holding a pendant of an onyx blackbird, a small ruby heart in the stone - a gift from Drake. They were soulmates or something, the way they acted...but I'll bet he didn't know of her cheating.

She wore a black protective body suit beneath her more normal uniform: a white v neck shirt, a red tang top beneath. Atop was her dark grey sleeveless midlength trench coat, the bottom edge frayed to vaguely resemble the shape of feathers. She wore light grey female cargo shorts, a red utility belt, and black knee high boots with red detailings. When she went out, she usually had on a light grey mask, but it was missing. She didn't like wearing it within the mountain.

And faithfully at her side was that mutt, Ace.

Her eyes flick up the second she turns the corner, stopping in her wandering, flicking over me a second before going over to Will to blankly stare at him. Getting a read on him, although her powers were vague when first encountering a person. She was able to get a more specific read on the person the longer she spent around them, which was I had fallen into the habit of trying to avoid her.

Will

She was staring.

I hate to be stared at. Hate it with passion. I don't like to be on display, though I am constantly. I'm supposed to be above my cousins, set a fine example, be the golden boy of the Cause.

I turn away, recompose myself, and turn back to her. I stare her right in the eyes, my lips twitching up into a smirk.

"....Didn't your mother ever tell you it's rude to stare?"

Chelsea

My face stays blank. Who was this kid...? With Damian, obviously, but he was never in the mountain before. "Never had one," I reply bluntly. Which was true. Oracle, a technical 'guardian' of mine, was simply a guide of sorts... Always teaching me how to be and what to do. She was nice that way.... My birth mother was always out, busy with 'business' to leave me with 'Father'. Drunked Father. Father who stabbed me with a pen and left me in the dark. Dear Father...he didn't like spiders...

He smirked. Overconfidence - no, hiding. It wasn't Damian's smirk; it was different. There was an air of...self consciousness? To his fears... But they were all just vague ideas right now, meshing together in a loose new blob among the more specific others.

But he didn't mind my eyes. Wide eyes, used to give me a look of innocence. Wide red eyes...

Ace grumbles beside me, laying down at my feet. I blink out of it, looking back to Damian. "What are you doing?"

"Why do you care?" He snaps, giving a hateful glare at me before briskly walking past. Fear of being read. Fear of not meeting expectations. Fear of being judged. Fear of being rejected. Many fears in him.

I watch him storm away in typical fashion. "He doesn't like me," I murmur, picking a neutral place to look at this time, eyes back down at the floor.