without which, nothing

(Independent Damian Wayne RP blog. Multifandom, multiverse, following tag thisismybirthright. Open for most anything, just message me!)

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[thisismybirthright]

mightiestmortal:

Billy tilted his head back, considering it, and then he nodded.  "Yeah,“ he finally said.  "I’m probably one of the few you could talk to about it.”  His gaze cut over to the door.  He sighed.  "But not here.“

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, and he raised an eyebrow as he met the kid’s gaze again.  "My name’s Billy. You want to walk with me and tell me what your name was before… all this?”

Because that name felt right, but it didn’t feel… true.

Damian raised an eyebrow at that, looking the boy over once again, and trying to pinpoint what had his grandfather restless and... concerned. Failed to determine the cause and let it be. If his grandfather wanted to be of assistance, he would be. Otherwise, he would do his best to block Damian from seeing; that much he’d figured out on his own.

“If you wish,” Damian said, and, “My name is--” and there it was, the block, that sick feeling of no, of: you are who I have wrought; of: you are Ra’s al Ghul. I am Ra’s al Ghul.

He choked, a physical response to a purely mental war, and it was all he could do to shake his head, to move in stuttering steps in the direction Billy had gestured. “I have always been Ra’s al Ghul,” he heard himself say, distantly.

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[thisismybirthright]

mightiestmortal:

Billy’s lips twisted into a wry smile as he eyed the paper.  He didn’t have to touch it to feel the raw power off of it.  Not because it was properly spelled, but because the idiot who wrote it spilled magic everywhere, on everything he touched, everything he brushed against, everything he lingered around.  The scent of that magic was unmistakable, all stale beer and cigarettes, sex and a sense of desperation that no one else could match.

“Constantine,” Billy said, sighing.

(And Billy still hadn’t caught the edge of the spell laid on him, hadn’t been able to figure out if he needed to pull it off or not.  Perception hexes were tricky beasts, often tied into other spells, and Billy wasn’t certain how deep that one ran.  Pulling preemptively… Well. That could be a disaster.  But eventually, he’d figure out what that spell was, and then the world would see John Constantine as he truly was, and not through the altered lens of the hex.)

“You must be desperate, listening to him.”

Or an idiot, but looking at the kid, Billy didn’t think that was the case.  His smile faded, and he folded his arms over his chest.

“So what problem do you have that John couldn’t make worse for you?  I’m sure he offered.”

Then again, if Constantine had offered, it would be fixed.  Something else, somewhere else, would have been broken sure, but this kid’s problem would have been fixed.  Because no matter what the hex said, John knew his spells.

“Constantine says there is no solution to my problem, but he said that you were in a ... unique position to help me live with it,” Damian said, eyeing the boy. If he was in a similar situation, there was nothing overt about it. “Though if he was wrong...” Damian rolled one shoulder in a dismissive shrug he didn’t feel.

If this boy could not help him, he had but one remaining solution. At that thought, his grandfather reared up in outrage and fought for control for one second, two, an eternity in which Damian could not even force his own body to breathe.

Then, once he had won control, he smirked. “Forgive my manners,” he said. “My name is Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head.”

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

[thisismybirthright]

mightiestmortal:

Darla was the one who heard the door, who headed over to answer it, but it was Billy’s skin that crawled, and it was Mary who caught her.  Pedro shifted, and Eugene looked up at Billy, and for a moment, Billy couldn’t breathe.  There was something sharp and dark and quiet behind that door, but the silence around it was so stark that it was almost a scream.

His eyes narrowed.  His hand flexed, and then he glanced into the kitchen.

“Billy, you just gonna leave him out there?”  Darla asked, and Billy wondered at that, the same way he always had whenever she said such things.

Sensitive to magic, Francesca had called her, and Billy wasn’t sure he liked it.

He met Mary’s gaze, and then he headed to the door.  For just a heartbeat, he stayed there, his hand on the knob, feeling the energy.

He could smell sulfur.

Then he opened the door and it was all gone, and there was a kid there.  Same age as Billy, probably.

He smelled like spices, some kind of blend that stirred the magic that ran just under Billy’s skin.  It was familiar, not of the same time but of the same place as the old ways, as–

Billy stepped outside, pulling the door closed behind him, and he offered the kid a grin.

“You lost?”

Damian looked at the boy who’d answered the door, analyzing his posture, his grin, his everything, and ignoring the ripple-surge of his grandfather’s awareness and knowledge within him.

“No.” Damian said curtly, and then he thought better of it. He offered up the scrap of paper-- the back of a bar receipt, transparent where liquor had spilled on it. “That is, unless I’ve got the wrong address.”

If his grandfather’s reaction was any indication, he did not, in fact have the wrong address, but it was only polite.

[thisismybirthright]

Ancient Knowledge | Billy & Damian

@mightiestmortal

Damian checked the piece of paper one more time before knocking on the door, making sure the address still matched.

It still did of course, but it was hard to credit the completely benign piece of suburbia before him with the advice he’d been given by John Constantine of all people, but on the other hand, Constantine might be selfish and insufferable, but he wasn’t often wrong, so Damian knocked briskly at the door.

He took the moments between his knock and the door opening to straighten his clothing, the ceremonial robes woven with protective magics, the sholwar and khameez he wore under them belted with a silk sash, all embroidered through with the greens and golds of his rank.

[thisismybirthright]

Catty Magic Anons

'meow': my muse is now a cat

'mew mew': my muse is now being followed by a dozen stray cats

'miao': my muse hallucinates that everyone they talk to is a cat

'nyaa~': my muse now has a cat tail and ears

'maow': my muse can only speak in cat noises

'purr': my muse is unable to resist the temptation of clawing any and all furniture

'mrrr': my muse will rub up against anyone they like when greeted

'mao': my muse goes out hunting and presents their kills to the one they love

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[thisismybirthright]

Damian scoffs again. “So, you’ve rescued me after a paltry two years. Where are we going? What’s the status of Superman’s crusade? Are you winning?”

The alarms are growing unbearable, and the sounds of fighting seem to be nearer now than they had been before. Could the alien mean them to enter the fray? Damian is not entirely certain he will be useful if forced to confront, say, Dr. Quinzel. Or– or worse.

[sinestro-of-korugar]

“No, we’ve decided to free you while losing,” Sinestro deadpans. “The entire world has been under Regime control for the past six months. We are going to the Watchtower.” He can hear the sounds of fighting growing closer and he’s rather annoyed with his soldiers. He’d made it clear that they were to have the fighting done by the time he retrieved the boy. Could they really not do something so simple? He should have brought Jordan to deal with it.

[thisismybirthright]

“Well,” Damian says. “In that case freeing me has a certain poetic level of desperation to it, does it not?”

He smirks at the alien. “It is the sort of act that would belong in epic ballads; turning the triumphant villain’s son against him at the last second. Have you a princess for me to wed, that Father may attend the celebration and be poisoned during the revels? Mother told me a very similar tale, once. It was a sound lesson for all. Everyone died.”

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

“Roughly equivalent to 300 Earth years is the norm for a Korugarian, though some of us have been known to live longer,” Sinestro responds. “Ever with how short you humans live, two years is nothing.”

Jordan had never seemed to take issue with the differences between human and Korugarian understandings of time. Two Earth years are nothing to a Korugarian. Their understanding of time can’t be that different, can it?

[thisismybirthright]

Damian scoffs again. “So, you’ve rescued me after a paltry two years. Where are we going? What’s the status of Superman’s crusade? Are you winning?”

The alarms are growing unbearable, and the sounds of fighting seem to be nearer now than they had been before. Could the alien mean them to enter the fray? Damian is not entirely certain he will be useful if forced to confront, say, Dr. Quinzel. Or-- or worse.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

“Seeing as your Father is still running around in a Batsuit, nothing,” Sinestro says.

What other family does the boy have? The previous Robin who died from a rock falling on him? 

“And yes, you should have expected rescue. A short time imprisoned while other matters are dealt with is nothing to be surprised by,” Sinestro adds.

[thisismybirthright]

“-tt-” is his only response to the remark about his father, and he resolves to try to contact the League of Assassins as soon as he can feasibly do so in secret.

“How long-lived are Korugarians?” Damian asks, rather than giving in to his fury. He had exhausted his fury many times during his imprisonment, and had learned new mastery over it. “It’s been at least two years. Granted, I lost count whenever they moved us, but I’m certain I’m right.”

He’d started shaving, twice a week and with a different costumed guard watching intently to make sure the plastic safety razor made it back into the appropriate bin, intact. But still. Shaving.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

Sometimes silence speaks louder than words, Sinestro muses, not responding at first. But sometimes what is said can be just as interesting.

So the boy thought Kal El would have left him to rot? Surprising. Sinestro doesn’t think the Kryptonian considers the human to be a murderer. Or at least, if he does, a murderer who Kal El still deems an ally. That was the nature of Sinestro and Kal El’s relationship at least.

“I will admit curiosity about the unwanted son, but I was led to believe you to be more intelligent than to think Kal El would never attempt to retrieve you. Other matters have kept us all distracted lately,” Sinestro adds, biting back a grimace. If he ever figures out who stimulated the latest rebellion effort on Korugar…

[thisismybirthright]

“Well,” Damian says, sniffing haughtily. “I do suppose that like my father, the Kryptonian’s defining trait is his sentimentality. I should have expected rescue.”

The problem was that he had. He had expected it two years ago, when his Father had locked him away and seemingly forgotten his existence entirely. No matter what reason Superman had had for putting off his rescue, he had, and Damian had learned his lesson from it, a lesson he should have learned long ago from his Grandfather.

Which, on thinking of it, seemed equally important. “And what of my family?” he asked. “What has Kal El done to them?”

They hadn’t tried to rescue him either. No one had, save an alien that his father’s files had claimed was egoistic and selfish to a fault. Nothing, he’d read, but a sociopath.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

“I had nothing better to do today,” Sinestro drawls. “It was decided you obviously couldn’t be bothered to escape so someone would have to retrieve you.”

It isn’t the entire truth, not even close. Sinestro admittedly curious about the young man. The son of Batman, raised to be the perfect heir, yet morally quite dissimilar. Disowned and cast out, allying himself with his own Father’s enemies. It made Sinestro undeniably curious. 

“Do you truly think Kal El would leave any of his allies permanently in your Father’s keeping?”

[thisismybirthright]

Damian felt anger rise up in him, thinking of the number of times he’d tried to escape, thinking of how the most recent times had only been in hope that his father would see him. He clenched his fists and clenched his jaw against speaking overly hastily.

“I think,” Damian said after a few moments, measuring his words the way having only Harley Quinn for company had taught him was necessity. “That Kal El thinks I am a murderer and that this is the one point upon which he and my Father agree. I think you must have some goal beyond mere rescue.”

I think you wish me to move against Father, he did not add.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

Sinestro resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Your father is distracted with other matters, more important than keeping one child captive,” Sinestro drawls. “What force do you think he could bring against mine anyway? The majority of Earth’s ‘powerful’ heroes know that Kal El is correct and dutifully follow after him. A few gadgets and non-powered heroes does little against dozens of people wielding power rings. No Green Lantern remain in Sector 2814. So what should I be wary of?”

Which is not to say the Korugarian didn’t have contingencies in place. There were reasons he had regarded Batman highly and considered the man to be a possible recruit to the Sinestro Corps. His men were merely a first in line matter. A secondary force lay in waiting if necessary. 

[thisismybirthright]

Damian snorted at being called a child, but kept close on Sinestro’s heels as they continued through the halls of the stronghold.

“Why you?” Damian demanded, since he had no answer for Sinestro but dind’t wish him to know it. “Why now? Why are you rescuing me, and why have you done it at all if you’ve waited so long.”

His hands itched for a weapon, but as no one was stopping them, there was no one he could disable and disarm.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

Sinestro’s unsurprised by the ringing of alarms. Akrillo had likely failed to properly destroy them. Support for the base’s guards would soon come, but they will be gone by then.

“From what I understand you were intended to be the perfect successor to your father. One would imagine that means you were trained to think as he does, or at least have the greatest possible understanding of how his mind works and how best to deal with situations concerning him,” Sinestro says, signaling for the teenager to follow him. 

“What has you suddenly so fearful? You can’t imagine your father would be succesful in imprisoning you again. In case you’ve forgotten, both Kal-El and I have our own armies, and I brought more than enough men to deal with any resistance or support given,” Sinestro adds.

[thisismybirthright]

Damian crosses his arms as he follows in Sinestro’s  wake, the corridor seeming endlessly long after having seen nothing but the insides of cells for a very long time.

“I may be his heir,” Damian snarled at the alien’s back, feeling, acutely, the lack of a weapon. Of course, given what had happened the last time he’d been armed, this was probably safest. “But all that guarantees is that I won’t underestimate him, as you have been doing all along.”

“Kind as you are to bring your might to bear for this lovely escape,” he continued. “My father is often successful against the odds. I’m not afraid,” he snapped. “I’m wary of the apparent ease of this attempt. And so should you be.”

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

[sinestro-of-korugar]

“You know, I’m almost disappointed by the fact you remained chained to a wall,” drawls Sinestro, stepping in front of the cell and studying the young man lying upside down. “I would have suspected one with your supposed skill would have freed themselves long ago.”

Barely he can hear the sound of fighting and knows his men are dealing with the last remaining defenders around the stronghold. They had orders to leave survivors, to show Batman the patheticness of his security measures. Kal-El had requested that they also retrieve the captive Robin.

A strange codename; how is a red-chested bird frightening?

“Release yourself and we will go.”

[thisismybirthright]

Damian uses the chains as leverage to flip upright, even before he’s identified the speaker as Sinestro. He sneers at his would be rescuer even as his fingers deftly open the locks around his wrists.

“Do you realize how long I’ve been locked in here?” Damian demands. “I have freed myself a hundred times, but Father knows my every weakness. Freeing myself is only the first step.”

Once free, he strides to stand directly in front of Sinestro, scowling furiously. “It would take an army to free him, and thanks to Superman, the armies I could have commanded have all laid down arms. Don’t you dare make such base assumptions about my skill when you know who it is I must pit it against.”

Alarms were sounding now, and as looked-for as this rescue was, he knows that his father will never allow it. Cold fear settles in his stomach, even as he glares at Sinestro.

[thisismybirthright]

Rescue Run

Damian sat in his cell, because he had already exhausted his body with what exercises he could do while chained to a wall in his father’s current stronghold.

He was bored. He was bored enough to contemplate escaping from his manacles, if only to have that brief moment’s mental engagement, but in the end, the consequences were hardly worth it. He had few enough privileges in this place; it would be asinine to risk losing them.

He lay upside down on the cold metal cot and kicked his feet up against the wall, simply for the novelty staring at the ceiling for a few minutes instead of the walls or the floor or the insides of his eyelids.

[thisismybirthright]

Damian backed as far away from her and the wall as he could manage in the tight space. “I suspect that if you kill me, your ‘pudddin’‘ would be extremely displeased,” he said. “So do whatever you like.”

[apieandabat]

Harley rolled her eyes, “Only I get to call him that, and he always likes his meat fresh…maybe a little tenderized.” Harley smirked as she lit the dynamite before backing away from the wall

[thisismybirthright]

“But not dead.” Damian ducked at the last second as the sound of the explosion echoed through the room. His cape proved adequate at shielding him, though he thought his skin might be more singed than was ideal, and that lump of concrete was definitely going to bruise.

[thisismybirthright]

“I’m not a kid!” Damian snapped. “What are you doing? You don’t know if that wall will bring the whole thing down on us!” He rushed forward to try to stop her lighting it.

[apieandabat]

Harley rolled her eyes, “Stop bein’ such a nervous Nancy and take a chance.” She searched through her pockets, “Now where’d I put that lighter.”

[thisismybirthright]

Damian backed as far away from her and the wall as he could manage in the tight space. “I suspect that if you kill me, your ‘pudddin’‘ would be extremely displeased,” he said. “So do whatever you like.”

[apieandabat]

“This is why I hate kids.” Harley grumbled as she set up some dynamite near a wall.

[thisismybirthright]

“I’m not a kid!” Damian snapped. “What are you doing? You don’t know if that wall will bring the whole thing down on us!” He rushed forward to try to stop her lighting it.