metalogs | A VERY MERRY BATMAS TO YOU

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A VERY MERRY BATMAS TO YOU | CLOSED

Who: Damian Wayne

batricide and the (extended) Batfamily, plus any plus ones they want to bring along
What: Damian finally reveals himself to his family.
When: December 21st, 2022
Where: An abandoned warehouse in Central City
Content Warnings: Damian playing mindgames with his family.

It starts with... a note.

( It actually starts with a conversation about a month earlier with an exasperated wizard and secretive young man. The young man mulling over how to introduce himself to yet another family he's never really known, and an offhanded remark about a nice family dinner slowly spinning itself into something much more... complex. Solution to his problem. A way to introduce himself and what he is all about, while seeing precisely what they are made of.

Because Damian, whether he likes it or not, his Bruce Wayne's flesh and blood. And this means he does not do anything at half-measures. )

But for the rest of them, it starts with an innocuous little note. Many notes, in fact. Left at various points in their patrol routes. The note has two numbers written on it, longitude and latitude. And at that location, different for all of them, is another set of coordinates left somewhere subtle. A puzzle for them to solve. Scraps of paper torn up and left in every corner of the room. An optical illusion they have to stand at just the right angle to decipher.

Honestly, he's beginning to understand why Gotham's criminals are so stupidly extra. It's surprisingly fun to put his family to the test without the need for fists or bloodshed.

All of it leads to here - an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town. The table is lain out with no shortage of delicacies - all home cooked, all his own work. Damian himself doesn't bother with a costume. His long hair is pinned back away from his face. The clothing is downright casual - for a Wayne, at least. A black turtleneck, a nice pair of dress-pants, shoes that were probably much nicer before he scuffed them all to hell in a fight. Of course, he's not unarmed - but his weapons as of late are his fists and the fire living just under his skin. Better than a sword through the gut.

His family will find their way here after a thoroughly headache inducing evening of solving puzzles and riddles. Damian himself is seated at the head of the table, feet up, head down as he scrolls through social media.

There's enough food for everyone, and it isn't poisoned - though he won't deny the thought did briefly cross his mind. Damian is a surprisingly gracious host, thanks to Alfred, and so they will want for nothing. Save for perhaps an apology for exhausting them all night, which they absolutely will not get.

Feel free to arrive with all the back-up you thought you needed! It's gonna be a long, awkward family dinner.

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ARRIVAL.

[ The number is the first word out of his mouth. Maybe you were the first, maybe you were the last, but Damian's been keeping track. Depending on where you fall in that sliding scale of success, he'll look either very impressed or vaguely concerned. Like he's judging you against some invisible metric, before he waves the look away. ]

Put the weapon down. You wouldn't be able to take me down with that anyway. [ he gestures towards the table. ] Do you know who I am, or do I need to reintroduce myself?

MINGLING

[ so... he doesn't.

Damian's idea of "mingling" is being on the fringes. Watching everyone else interact with a vaguely lonely air. He's still not great at this, and after losing so many people, he's - afraid to get too close. He's regained and lost his family, his friends, more times than he can count.

And part of him is still afraid that they'll know the truth if he talks too much. Too openly. His past - his role in the Regime - had been a point of pride for so long. Now he feels... shameful, for reasons he's still trying to pin down. All those years he spent justifying it fall apart, when standing in a world where nearly the same thing occurred - and they managed to get by without resorting to tyranny.

Still. If approached, he nods, leaning back against the wall and forcing himself to relax. ]

Alfred would kill me if I didn't ask if you wanted seconds.

Edited 2022-12-20 02:34 (UTC)

[Jason doesn't put down his gun. He's not in the mood for games and only followed the clues because he wanted to know who was trying to lure him into a trap. Plus, part of him wanted to have a fight tonight]

Yeah, I remember you. Thought you left with the others back in the summer.

['Put the weapon down', Damian says, and Steph considers it for all of two seconds, before promptly throwing her (collapsed) bo staff directly at his face.

It's obviously not meant to actually do any damage, because if she wanted to start a fight, she wouldn't give up on her weapon immediately.

She's just annoyed.]

Seriously?! Why can't any of you be normal?! I have a phone, Damian!

[He's a lot older, sure, but she knows that smug little face anywhere.]

Tim is cautious when he enters the warehouse. After spending a good chunk of the evening on riddles, he’s convinced that whoever is at the end of this annoying little treasure hunt is incredibly intelligent.

And possibly the Riddler, but the coordinate clues were too straightforward.

So, he pulls himself up to the highest tier of windows with his grappling gun. Hangs there with one arm, bracing his feet on the wall while he attaches a suction cup to the window and fastens it to a clamp on the window ledge with a daisy chain of zip ties.

In two minutes, he’s cut the glass from the awning window. These old warehouses never had fully opening windows. It’s a real pane. He gently lifts it away and carefully lets it dangle before hoisting himself through and retracting the grapple.

There’s only the softest thwips of the grapple line and muffled shhhlnk of his bo extending before he hears a semi-familiar voice announcing a number.

He absolutely is not putting the bo down. He did the last time, but that was before he had to zigzag across the entire city for this. “Obviously. What’s with all the pretense, Damian? You’ve never been anything but blunt; you could have found me anytime you wanted.”

Found me, not talked to me. It’s not like Tim Drake is hiding. If Damian wanted to chat, this isn’t the way to do it. This is a setup.

Arrival

[After finding the note and as he followed the clues, Jason became acutely aware that he's probably being lured into a trap.

So be it. He could use an extra bit of violence tonight.

He's up the rafters and hiding in the shadows as he looks at Damian and the rest of the room for any traps. He's surprised to see the man again. Their last talk was back in the summer when even more people from other dimensions showed up. Jason had assumed Damian disappeared with the others afterwards.

And now here he was again. All this work just for a dinner? It seems too easy]

Lurking

[It takes some time but Jason's now on ground level and has reluctantly taken a seat. He hasn't eaten much during the day so he winds up helping himself to a full plate. Still, he's not in a very talkative mood]

Edited 2022-12-26 05:51 (UTC)

ARRIVAL

[When Tim goes too long without responding, Kon decides screw it, he can't risk not finding him.]

[Not with the Joker around.]

[So, after listening to his grappling gun to pin him down, he shows up at the abandoned warehouse. He flies in through a broken window, to make less noise doing it, rushes into the main room, and gets ready to fight.]

[He glows with blue telekinetic light, every muscle tense, eyes glowing red.]

Where is he? Where's Robi-

[But it's not the Joker. There's...dinner set out? The eye glow fades.]

What the hell?

LATER

[Kon doesn't eat but he also refuses to leave. He doesn't trust Damian on a general basis. But the brat at home at least had settled down a little.]

[He has no idea what an adult Damian is capable of or what his alliances are, what his morality is.]

[So he stays, leaning against a wall, arms folded, glaring at him. If one of the others comes by, he at least speaks.]

He's got to be up to something.

[ Oh for the love of -

Tim pulls out his phone from his belt and shuts down the app in question before it can do anymore damage.

While he waves at Kon to get his attention, it’s more of staccato, I’m-over-here-you-idiot than a please-come-and-chat wave. Everyone continue to ignore his advice, orders and requests, don’t let him stop you. ]

[Okay, that isn't the behavior of someone being attacked that is the behavior of being embarrassed your friend showed up to something.]

[Kon goes over, though he's still looking around.]

What the hell is going on?

What, can't you tell?

[ Tim keeps his expression neutral and his words in sotto voce, but Kon would know the sound of Tim not sure if he wants to laugh or strangle someone like Homer Simpson. ]

The little toerag invited us all to dinner. And by little, I've been Flight of the Navigator'ed.

[He looks over at Damian.]

[And despite the fact the situation makes him feel like he's on thin ice, he can't resist a joke.]

Are you sure you didn't just shrink in the wash?

[Don't you wish you were one of the members of the Batclan willing to do a murder, Tim? Don't you?]

Edited 2022-12-25 23:17 (UTC)

Are you sure you didn't? The new kid's looking pretty tall these days, S.B.

[ He is, but Tim will take part of that blame. He shouldn't have set up the notifications in the first place.

Tim, too, feels ill-at-ease. This is Damian, so he expects a certain level of dislike, distrust, and outright animosity. He's not sure having Kon come to his rescue will play well. ]

If you get me kicked out, I will actively make you regret it.

[He wonders how tall General Lane is and how that'll factor in.]

There's no way he'll stay taller than me. Same height maybe. I'll catch up.

[Okay, some baggage to unpack there.]

[The argument at least starts off in a hushed voice.]

I won't get you kicked out, but I was worried.

Dude, you can't just drop 'I don't love this situation' and that it seemed specifically made for you, go radio silent, and not expect me to show up.

[Never mind that Tim hadn't gone quiet for very long.]

Edited 2022-12-25 23:41 (UTC)

Fine. Next time, I won’t.

[ It was only an abundance of caution that made reach out. An over abundance. He can handle it himself, and Kon can have his peace of mind. ]

[He hisses at him:]

Not the point I was making!

[Why is he being so infuriating about this?]

What would you have done, Tim?

If I said "this situation isn't looking good and it seems like it was set up for me." If Lex Luthor were around?

Why are you the only one who gets to twist the point around?

[ Also hissed, like two high schoolers fighting during a chem lab. ]

If I’d known Luthor was around, I would’ve come running, but there are multiple people looking for the Joker, and nobody’s found so much as a banana peel. It wasn’t his style.

[Kon crosses his arms.]

And how would I have gotten that off what you sent me?

[It wasn't exactly not a panic-inducing communication.]

You could trust me to know that I’d never deliberately engage him without backup present instead of just on call!

[ Tim can feel the shift in his whole body as his brain helpfully theorizes on what the Joker will do next time, now that Robin flew the coop again. He can hear the thrum of his pulse in his inner ear. ]

For all I knew, it could've been some kind of setup where he tries to get you before you even go into a place, when you first start poking around.

What if he tricks you by doing something different than he'd normally do?

Even with how careful you are, and how smart you are, he already got you before!

[ There’s a -

Catch -

In Tim’s breath. It’s not audible as a sound all it’s own, but the rhythm goes off as what’s always at the back of his mind these past few Decembers is suddenly drug to the foreground, tied up in twinkling lights and laughing, laughing, laughing in a Santa hat over the sound of bodies hitting the bumper.

And they’re in a warehouse full of Bats, some of whom Tim would rather die than show nerves in front of, so he has to mind his face. ]

We’re not having this conversation here. You’ll just have to trust that I can handle him.

Edited 2022-12-26 01:03 (UTC)

[Someone else might not have caught it but of course he does. And it's more pronounced to someone that can hear his lungs from here. Hear his heartbeat.]

[There's something about the catch in his breath, something - something off.]

[But Kon is smart. He's observant. He can figure out what might make Tim's breath catch after he says 'he already got you before.']

It was just the one time...right?

Edited 2022-12-26 01:09 (UTC)

[ When Tim answers, he sounds calm. Normal. It helps - look how good he is at controlling the internal storm. ]

It was just the once, here, and no one’s seen him since.

[ He diagrams the sentence in his head as he speaks. Punctuation is so important to truth-telling.

Til I behold him - dead - is my poor heart for a kinsman vexed. ]

[He's not sure he believes him but also knows that lately he's been digging too hard in some ways.]

[And of course he wouldn't want to talk about it hear. Now.]

[And his heart sounds steady.]

[(But it sometimes is when he's lying).]

Okay.

[The frustration gives way to something else, something softer. Whatever will was driving this argument along as an argument fades, and any macho stuff wilts on the vine.]

Do you know how many nights I've woken up screaming thinking he got you again?

[He wouldn't. He leaves when Kon goes to bed and comes home around Kon waking up at ass o'clock in the morning.]

It's not that I think you're not smart or tough or whatever. It's that I know there's always some villain that can screw us, and if anyone can possibly get you again, it's him.

Just like Luthor's the one that'd have the best chance of getting me again.

[Even Prime was kind of stupid, for all his power.]

I can't be all logical about it. I want you to let me know if something's dicey and I don't want you to not tell me, but there's gotta be a better plan that vaguing at me and then getting mad when I show up.

[The next words are not words he ever says. Ever. But something needs to cut through them getting into little hissing matches or all the macho arguing.]

[The other night...maybe he'd just been drunk but it was definitely because of the softer things they both feel and don't admit. He just...doesn't know how deep it might go.]

I've been - look, I've just been...

[He forces it out because the anger has not been working and Tim's been upset with him not seeing the logic of how skilled he is.]

I'm scared.

[All of this the constant tug back and forth between them...and that's been at the core of it.]

[Because Joker's always been a huge, dangerous, deadly problem but as long as Bats didn't want metas in Gotham, it was a problem waaay over there. And Tim always seems invincible to him. Even after the times he's lost, even after the times he's been beaten.]

[He's never been someplace, screaming, where Kon wasn't at least there screaming by his side. Even on Apokolips, they'd at least been in that nightmare together (his fault, all his fault), and had gotten out together.]

I'm not trying to be a dick. I'm just. Scared.

[He knows Tim feels walked over, not listened to, boundaries crossed, same as he's felt. And they both go for aggression, annoyance, egos, throwing their weight around...]

[One of them has to break out of that and go for sincerity. Un-shockingly, Kon just up and admits it first.]

Fear's not logical, okay?

[ His throat closes like anaphylaxis is setting in. Not really, but he’d lose the cape and loosen the high, protective collar of his uniform if he could.

He doesn’t want to cause his friends grief or worry: they’ve been through enough. He doesn’t want them to see him as the weak link that needs to be minded.

And here’s Kon, at a fucked up dinner party, explaining how he screams himself awake from nightmares about Tim. Does he know that Tim’s are full of red-on-white - Kon’s blood on the snow, his dad’s blood on the crisp button down, a crimson smirk on skin as white as greasepaint?

Tim tries to manage the fear. Make it work for him. It’s what he’s been taught to do. Precaution mitigates it, but Kon’s asking for more than he’s been willing to give, following him like this.

Tim wants to say he understands. But. It’s such a thorny, tangled morass of scarred emotions and badly healed traumas that it’s too hard. He does understand. Kon just plowed it under because he didn’t care that Tim was afraid. ]

If you understand, then why are you fighting me so hard? Why do you get to fly in like a missile and I have to sit on my hands?

Because someone trying to control me and decide things without even asking what I think or feel about it puts me in a genuinely bad place.

People have tried it my. Whole. Life. More times than you even know about. In ways you don't know about. Especially when I was younger, before I knew you, or after I knew you but before we got close.

[His face gets a dark look that isn't on it often.]

[God, how many people screwed with him? He's lost count, honestly. He's lost count of the ways, of the manipulations. They even came from people like Rex, who he still cared about, but like. It was still messed up it took so long for the guy to stop being so...Hollywood. To decide to try to be more decent and stop seeing him as a meal ticket with legs.]

Look, we can talk more about it when we're not at some whacked out, creepy family dinner. But it just sucks, okay? So can you just stop trying it already?

And If you want, I'll leave. But I want to stay at least long enough to make sure the toerag doesn't try anything. If it's okay. I can just shut up and stand here.

[ One of these days, when Kon gets him tied up in knots at a party, Tim is well and truly going to lose it. Not sarcastic theatrics, but the sort of shouting that comes when someone has nothing left to lose.

God, it would be nice, instead of pissed whispers out of the corner of his mouth. ]

I wasn’t trying to control you. I was trying to protect you, and I’m not even doing that anymore.

[ Lumping Tim in with the likes of Luthor and CADMUS is a deep cut. Tim can’t walk that one off. Even if he was ready to start shouting - Kon hasn’t listened. Won’t, if that’s how he sees it.

Really, if Tim breaking down crying before didn’t sway him, Tim has no moves left on the board. He hopes he’s wrong. That’s all he has. ]

I won’t ask what you’re up to, so there’s nothing to talk about. If we don’t talk about it, you know I won’t intervene, and I won’t have nightmares about whether Atomight’s going to rip your heart out of your chest.

[ Kon isn’t the only one in a bad place, but Tim is used to feeling at war when he himself is in a bad place - like he’s being forced into an oppositional role. Is it a surprise that it’s Kon? … no more than it was a surprise when Dick was at odds with Tim. He’s so tired of being put through the wringer. ]

Do what you want.

[ Have his blessing to ignore what Tim wants. Might as well pretend it’s by mutual agreement. ]

[He wants to say "You're not hearing me." Because he's not. He's hurt because the comparison hurts but that's not what he's trying to say. He's trying to make it clear why an action from someone he trusts still feels bad even when it's well-intentioned. Because trauma doesn't create rational responses. The brain does what it wants.]

[But he has no words for it. He's a superhero and the concept of "trauma" even applying is lost on him. Trauma is a thing that happens to people who need saving. It's a thing that happens to people living in Gotham. Even when it happens to heroes, does it still count when it's Superboys?]

[Clark never seems traumatized.]

[But he doesn't want to fight and "do what you want" isn't a no. So clams up, stays, and leans against the wall, arms crossed.]

Edited 2022-12-26 04:25 (UTC)

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A VERY MERRY BATMAS TO YOU | CLOSED

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Arrival

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Arrival - response optional

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