tushanshu_logs | Event | Landfall

Event | Landfall | Diving & Sinbrilee

Characters: Any and every!
Date: August 10th - 31, 2013
Location: The sunken city of Sinbrilee
Situation: Tu Vishan comes upon the oceanfloor, holding his own memorial to the fall of his sister turtle while those upon his shell may explore the ruined city.
Warnings/Rating: Please place content warnings in subject headers!

Sinbrilee | Dreaming | Death

Art by Rica.

The city is lit by a warm orange glow, there are thousands of lanterns lit and burning brightly to ward off the gathering dark. It was once a grand, thriving place, and it's obvious by the quality of the Greco-Roman architecture, the high sweeping columns of white marble, the beautifully paved roads. There are aqueducts throughout the city that look as if they could be put to use today. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that the city's spent the last few hundred years underwater, it looks quite liveable. This city is entirely open to exploration, so feel free to send your character out to their heart's content. Remember, certain doorways will lead your characters into either Death or the Dreaming and these markings won't always be visible to them, so they should take care and be vigilant at all times!

Note: A separate post will be made for the events of the Bacchanal later in the month.

Headers:
> Keeliai | The Dive
> Sinbrilee | The Athenaeum
> Sinbrilee | The Agora
> Sinbrilee | The Baths
> Sinbrilee | Elsewhere

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Damian stumbled out of the archway, eyes wide but, at the same time, nearly unseeing. A few steps, and he leaned a hand against the wall apposite, hunching down.

He didn't throw up this time. But he couldn't bring himself to move for a while.

There was something... something terrible with those archways. Maybe his Romany blood was speaking to him, but he just could feel the awfulness about them. They weren't even that spectacular, really, nothing to them besides those runes on them. But they were all over the place, and Dick was careful about not going under them.

Hold your breath when you go through a tunnel, or else it will collapse on you. Dick saw Damian before Damian probably saw him (or not, kid was pretty damn good at that sort of thing), but anyone who looked like that wasn't really in the best state of mind.

"Damian?" Dick said, cautiously getting down to the same height. If he lashed out (at something unseen, at him, at who he could possibly be) then he was prepared.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Talk to me."

Oddly enough, this time Damian cringed away from Dick's proximity after he recognized Dick. And just stood there, arms actually hugging his body, eyes down.

No lashing out. Just upset, telegraphed... as loudly as Damian usually telegraphed things with his body language.

"Grayson. You are--"

Alive. All right.

There was only one person to lash out at. And that was himself.

He couldn't finish that. However, after a long moment, he did look up, taking in the man's state, and then his gaze flicked to the archway.

"You have not been through those."

It's not a question.

That was... really different. Damian had never moved away because of Dick. Maybe because of what Dick had done, or he'd gotten too close into the kid's personal space (as he was apt to do with everyone), but it was never because of him.

Dick looked up at the archway for a moment as well, and then shook his head. "No. Decided not to go under any archways here. Call it a sixth sense, but I didn't think they looked right." He reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"What's inside?"

(It wasn't because of Dick. It was because of what Damian had done - could do - to Dick.)

The question made Damian take deeper breaths, closing his eyes for a moment to focus.

"When we arrive, we are told that this world is in-between, between life, death, and dreaming. These archways lead to the other two... Chase called them planes, and that is as good a name as any, the other two planes of existence. Of Death, and of Dreaming.

"The influence of the threat we are fighting against is... very strong, in the Death plane. It is permeated by... decay, and fears, and destruction." He was aiming for steady, lecturing tone. It wasn't working. "This one did not lead to the Dreaming plane."

Dick looked from Damian's face, back up to the archway. He wanted to move Damian out of the way, to protect him from this place. Spirit him away and never let him go near another archway again, ever.

Stupid feeling, because Damian wouldn't want that, but still. Despite the terrible things taking place, it felt good to feel like an overprotective big brother.

"Right," Dick nodded along, his hand tightening on his shoulder. "So you were in Death. Like fighting off some fear toxin, or worst then that?"

If anything, Damian shrunk in on himself a little more, definitely avoiding Dick's eyes. Even if he wasn't snapping, or glaring, or accusing anyone. Just a small-voiced, "no."

And, after a few moments, all the elaboration he was going to give, right now.

"Leave it, Grayson. You do not want to know." And, quieter. "Please."

He wanted to let it go. He really did. Because Damian had asked, and said please, and... but he couldn't. There wasn't any way that he could do that. Because the kid would ruminate on it, he would go crazy, thinking about it. And no one would know what it was that was making him so upset.

Dick knew the signs of that. "Damian," Dick said, a little softer. "I want to know. And you should tell me. You can trust me."

You can trust me. That got another flinch. Because it was the other way of trust that was the problem. Dick's trust that Damian shouldn't have, even if he wanted it.

After a long moment, he turned away, taking a few steps away, his back turned to Dick.

This Dick wouldn't understand, even. He hadn't shared as much as Damian remembered, hadn't saved his life as many times, or talked him down from fury or pain. Damian didn't want to see the disappointment in his face, anyway. Or the pity.

Voice emotionless, even, he did answer, though.

"I broke my promise to Father. Became Mother's creature again, with no other options left."

Just because he hadn't been there for it doesn't mean he couldn't understand it. You didn't need to be there to see a flower bloom, to know that it could, and how it could do that.

Besides, he was sure, if he had been through whatever it was that Damian had been through, he was probably flailing in the dark during that time, too. That's just how these things worked. But Damian answered him, and there wasn't pity on his face, nor disappointment.

"What did she do to you?"

"It is not," Damian ground out, glaring, "what she did to me, Grayson. It is what I did."

He remembered the lesson, taught between Dick and Alfred. You are what you choose to be. You make you.

And this was what he'd made himself... what he'd make himself, one day.

Dick paused. There was so much he didn't know, didn't understand yet, and it was pitfall after pitfall, sometimes. He was trying. But right now wasn't the time for trying, it was the time for knowing.

But he didn't know it all. "I'm sorry. What did you do?"

He was trying, yes, and a part of Damian understood that. He didn't like it - this Grayson was so close to the one he knew, but not quite there, and he was... Damian was extremely peeved by the fact.

But peeved was not the situation, right now.

He flexed his hands into fists, took a deep breath... and started walking. Not stalking away without answering, no, but he needed to move. (To get away.) His eyes were anywhere on the ruins other than on Dick. Or the archway.

Even so, it took a little while before he could answer - though, when he did, there was no beating about the bush.

"I killed you. All of you, from Father and Pennyworth out to Brown and Gordon."

Damian killed everyone. And by doing that, it was what his mother wanted, so yes. Now it made more sense why Damian was upset a lot more then usual. Because it was everything he'd feared he'd become? Feared that he would do? Or was it just that he feared the knowledge of what could happen?

He didn't follow him, allowed his space. Something Dick knew what to do, every so often. And he didn't say anything, for awhile, once Damian revealed what had happened.

"But you didn't actually do that. You just did it in there."

One of the few things he actually feared, yes, because a big part of him wanted it. Also... it meant that not only would he become Mother's creature again, but that he would have no choice in following her lead, wherever that would go. There would be nowhere to escape to. There would be nothing to want to escape for.

He kept on walking, though. Damian knew Grayson would get it, eventually - he didn't want to stay there, the sight of the archway reminded him of the way blades sank into flesh...

"I have not actually done that... yet. Maybe."

And if Grayson didn't get it, all the better. Distance from him right now probably was wisest.

"Just because you saw it happen in there doesn't mean it will, you know." Dick followed him. Of course he followed him. Wherever Damian went, if he didn't mind, he would follow. And even if he did mind, he would also follow.

It wasn't because of some duty he had, to make sure Bruce's son was okay. It wasn't pity that kept him near him. Maybe it was a dash of curiosity, but mostly it was because it was the right thing to do. And Damian deserved having that.

"It's like Scarecrow's fear toxin. It takes whatever you fear most and makes it happen. But it didn't happen. You came out of there with no blood on your hands, because you didn't do that."

Damian walked beside him in silence for a while. Still afraid of himself in Dick's company, but taking comfort, anyway. (Because he was weak.)

(Because he could admit to that, just a little, with Grayson.)

"I wish it was that simple," is what he said, in the end. He does wish it were a case of what might happen.

Instead of what very likely will, if he were to lose control.

Dick knew it wasn't that simple. Except it was, at the same time. Break down the emotions that held everything in place, the feelings of guilt, of hope, of everything that you didn't need, so you could see the clearer picture.

He felt sick to his stomach. This is how Bruce sees the world. And it is awful. But what makes it terrifying is the fact that Dick thinks he can see things this way. Dick swallows before he can talk.

"You didn't do it, Damian. It's one possibility out of dozens, that's all it is. Maybe it could happen, and maybe it won't. Are you really going to let whatever was in there dictate anything? How do you know someone wasn't pulling the strings while you were in there?"

"I am not," Damian's voice was, basically, a controlled snarl, "letting it dictate anything at all. It is not as simple, because it is not just one possibility out of dozens. It is one possibility that I am fully capable of accomplishing, and that I..."

He trailed off for a moment, the anger draining out from his words.

"One that I cannot say that I have not desired. Or still do not, at times. Do you understand the difference?"

Damian's words hit him. They'd gotten through already, of course they had. And he wasn't letting it dictate anything. What he'd been doing was too cold, too analytical, and that was not something he needed now.

He didn't give him pity. But Damian needed compassion. And Dick got this. He understood this too well.

"Yes, I do. But you're also capable of the other possibilities. Damian, no one can tell you what to do. You know the difference between what's right, and what's wrong, but it--" His breath hitches. Hadn't he known the difference? What was right and what was wrong? But in that moment, that moment when you had to make a choice. Did he make the wrong choice? If Blockbuster had lived, he would have continued to hurt everything Dick loved, even from prison. But putting him in prison was the 'right' choice.

Dick knew the difference. "It's up to what you want, in that moment, to do." He reached out again, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Damian... I believe you can do anything you decide to do. And I also believe you'll do the right thing, if it ever comes to a point that you need to make that choice."

Damian's breath caught, and he stopped for a very short moment, barely more than missing a step (he didn't miss steps), eyes squeezed shut.

It...

Most of the time, he wouldn't have paid attention to it. Most of the time, it would have registered, but wouldn't have mattered as much.

However, just now? Dick's faith in him shook Damian more than he wanted.

But, possibly, not more than he needed.

"Grayson..." His voice was almost soft, and he hesitated, before finding words to continue with. "Can you... make sure you watch out around me, anyway? I - you have given me the other choices I can make. And why to make them." He had begun with a promise that Bruce had taken from him. Dick had given that promise a meaning. Given him the want to keep it for what it was, the beginnings of recognition of right from wrong. "But if I slip." If Drake turns out to be correct. "Will you protect yourself?"

His mouth opened, then closed. It would be very simple to just say Yes, I'll protect myself. I'll watch out around you. But that's not what he wanted to say, and the meaning that went with it was not what he wanted to give. Saying that he would meant he thought Damian was a threat.

And he could be. Given the circumstance, Damian could be the deadliest threat out there, and Dick knew that. But for Dick to tell him that he would watch out made it seem like he would always be watching out. Making sure his back was covered; not trusting him.

Dick squeezed his shoulder. "I have faith knowing that you won't." But he would. But he knew he wouldn't have to.

Damian hunched a little more, but didn't shrug the hand off his shoulder.

He both needed to keep the distance (to protect), and needed the connection (that Grayson wasn't leaving him...) and he hated the weakness. Hated himself so much, for not being able to make any of this simple. It should be - straightforward, logical.

But it was anything but.

In a minute, his mouth pursed a little, and he answered quietly, "then you have more faith in that than I do."

No, no distance. That might be how they're supposed to do it in the Batfamily, but Dick knew it didn't work like that. Hence why he prescribed more to Clark's way of thinking. How can you protect something, or someone, if you didn't... well, love it. Them. Maybe it was weakness, but it's what made you human.

And faith. You needed to have faith in something. In someone. Or just have faith in yourself. This wasn't a math problem. Two plus two was never going to equal the amount of faith you had in yourself, and Y was never going to be the answer to what you should do to fix that.

Basically, time for a hug. Something you're not going to get from other members of the family, but that never meant they weren't needed.

"I have faith in you Damian."

Damian stiffened at the further invasion into his personal space, and the touch, and the embrace, but...

He didn't push away. He didn't strike, and he didn't even threaten to stab. Instead, he held his breath for a few heartbeats, then lowered his head against Dick's arm, his hands curling the man's clothing into loose fistfuls.

Eventually, he whispered. "I know. That is what - hurt, in there. Not the taking of lives. Not the breaking of promises. But betraying your faith."

He was trying to be a good person. He understood more and more of the principles that underlined what the bats did. But he wasn't one, deep inside. Because the actual responses, emotional and unfeigned, to most things that made a person good, were missing, burned away deliberately by years of training.

But some things, things that nobody before Dick had introduced him to? They had begun to hold, in the time - to years or so ago, for Damian - since Dick made Damian his Robin.

It wasn't always (if ever) an easy thing to have, among all the rest.

Event | Landfall | Diving & Sinbrilee

For older!Dick Grayson, but any family would be acceptable

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