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tushanshu_logs2012-11-15 01:08 pm
controlledvariable) wrote in tushanshu_logs2012-11-15 01:08 pm
Entry tags:
[closed] only you decided that you had to go
Characters: Stephanie Brown and Bruce Wayne
Date: ~17th Novemeber (or around that time)
Location: The mainland, then Bruce's suite in the Metal Sector
Situation: Steph gets attacked by a pair of llothi, it does not go well for her
Warnings/Rating: Violence, llothi, blood, injuries
It's a trap.
She knows it is, as soon as the sound of crying first reaches her ears; she's been warned about the mimicry, about the creatures that lure in prey for the llothi by pretending to be kedan, or in this case, human. She knows, that's all the sound is, that she should carefully walk away, before the llothi decide to stop waiting for her to be lured in. She's not too far in, her explosive batarangs will still work at this range, but taking on two llothi after a long day of walking on the arid mainland is a little beyond her skill. It's a trap, she knows it's a trap, and she should run.
But it's a little girl crying, and there's an ache in her heart as she thinks about her own little girl (not hers, she reminds herself, but it doesn't ease the ache). What if it really is a child, and she walked away from them?
She'd never forgive herself. In the same way that she knows it's a trap, she knows that she'll never sleep again if she doesn't find out for certain that there isn't a little kid lost out here. Of course, that doesn't mean she has to walk straight into it.
Steph heads towards the small, burnt out town with caution, sticking to the reasonable cover that the crumbling buildings provide, batarangs in her right hand, staff in her left. The buildings aren't stable enough for her to consider going to the rooftops, but as she gets closer to the source of the noise she slows down, works out what direction the wind is coming from and makes her approach from that way so that at the very least they can't get her scent.
Near the centre of town there's a building with three walls and half a roof, and it's where the crying is coming from. She doesn't get close enough to check before she hears movement to her left, and she's already running as the first llothi crashes into the wall right where she'd been a few seconds ago. There will be another one, but Steph can't get a visual one it right now so she focuses on keeping away from the first, running through the streets, ducking swipes from the creature's claws.
She realizes it's herding her, trying to get her with it's left or right claw depending on which way it wants her to go. The problem is that she can't see any other option but to let it, there's not enough room for her to make a move away from the llothi. All she can do is keep her eyes open for an opportunity to get away before they reach whatever destination the thing intends.
The chance never comes; there's a narrow alley to her left up ahead, surrounded by two stable-looking walls and she knows, she knows, just like she knew this was a trap, that the second llothi is waiting at the other end. She tries to turn, grip tightening on her staff with the thought that maybe she can fight it off, but even as she dodges the first blow, a backswing of it's arm catches her across the chest, knocking her into the wall, all the air rushing out of her as her back hits concrete.
It's a dead end except for the alley, she could try to climb one of the buildings, but her grapple's in her bag and it'd probably take too long to get out. The llothi growls at her, makes another swipe, and it's all she can do to scramble out of the way and into the narrow space, hoping the lack of room to manoeuvre will hinder the llothi as much as her.
The second is waiting at the other end. Steph can't even find it in herself to be surprised. She's trapped, and they're going to tear her apart if she doesn't think fast, doesn't move fast. Luckily she's always been good at working on the fly, it's one of the advantages of being reckless. She throws her batarangs - normal ones - at the llothi behind her, aiming for the face, the throat, the mouth, where she can hopefully do damage enough to slow it down, but she doesn't have time to actually look to see if she was successful. She's busy running at the one in front of her, as it runs towards her; she lets her bag slip from her shoulders, grabs the strap in one hand and just before she's within striking distance, throws the pack hard just past the llothi's head, hoping to distract it enough as she slides past it's legs. It should be too big to turn around easily in the small space and it might buy her enough time to get away.
For a second, she thinks it's worked, as she catches a glimpse of empty space in front of her and starts to push to her feet, and then she hears a sound like concrete shattering as llothi claws swipe easily through it.
And then her back is on fire.
She doesn't look, doesn't even break in her movement once the claws are out of her skin, she just catches the bag as it drops to the ground and runs.
They've got the scent of her blood, they know she's injured, and she knows that they not going to be so easily deterred now. And she's in pain and losing blood, which is wreaking havoc on her concentration as she keeps running through the streets, knowing that she can't break from the town yet because she can't risk giving them an advantage on open ground.
She has no idea how long she spends running from them before an opportunity presents itself in the form of a barely standing building, two walls supporting a crumbling roof. Steph sees it in the distance and desperately fishes an explosive batarang from her pocket, slowing her pace just enough to make sure the llothi don't lose interest, not there's much risk of that. She depresses the centre of the batarang, runs into the building, throws it up to stick in a beam of wood, and keeps running.
The resulting explosion knocks her off her feet, but she hears falling concrete and the llothi making - sound she doesn't want to think about. She risks a brief glance as she pushes herself to her feet. The creatures are covered by the collapsed roof, not dead, she doesn't think, but at the very least it will slow them down, and at best they'll decide this prey isn't worth the trouble.
She doesn't wait around to find out, she just starts running again.
→
By the time she finds a place to rest, her breathing is coming hard and fast, her chest aching with each intake of air and she's pretty sure her skin's on fire where the claws caught her. She twists, trying to assess the damage, but when she just gets hit by a wave of pain so bad her vision swims, she realizes it's not going to happen. There's dried blood on her hands, blood soaked in her clothes and more coming with every shift of her body, her shirt sticky and clinging to her skin with blood and sweat. She knows there's no point in trying to properly dress the wound right now. But she can try; she finds a relatively hidden spot behind some crumbling walls and drops her pack. She cuts away the bloodied part of her shirt, wipes her hands as clean as she can (she can't afford to waste water) and manages to do a rough job of bandaging up the wounds, her teeth clenched against the pain. It's not perfect, but stitches are beyond her skill at that angle. It should hold for long enough to get her back to the mainland, and she even manages to pull on the light sweatshirt she brought with her, covering the extent of the damage.
After a moment, through the haze of pain and heat and exhaustion, she remembers her communication device.
It was in her back pocket. As soon as she takes a look at the device she knows it's going to be useless, it's cracked, most likely from her brief encounter with a wall.
Wonderful.
It's hard to judge how much blood she's lost, but based on how fast her heart's been pumping and how deep the wounds are, she's gonna take a guess at too much. All she can do is try to make it back to the mainland before she passes out. Steph grabs her staff from her boot, extends it, and using it as, well, a staff, starts towards Tu Vishan, using the sun as a guide.
→
Things are a little easier back in the city; it's cooler, for one, especially considering the fact it's nightfall by the time she stumbles down off the wagon that provides transport from the edge. The trip had been hazy, all she remembers is the kedan keeping as far from her as they could in the small space. She thinks one of them tried to talk to her, but she can't remember responding. There'd been no point letting them help, she could already tell that the wounds are infected, that she was starting to burn with a fever. Simply cleaning and stitching them up wouldn't help her, she needed proper medical attention.
That should mean going to a hospital, Keeliai has them, but they're for kedan and while she knows the doctors are starting to learn, she's not sure she trusts them with human physiology.
She wishes Leslie were here. But she's not, and that leaves Steph with a narrow list of candidates who can help.
A really narrow list.
Her feet start taking her towards the Metal Sector before her mind has even really made the decision. It's a slow journey, as she sticks to the shadows and stumbles her way through back streets. It's a miracle she doesn't run into any trouble.
By the time she's at the Foreigner compound, she's vaguely aware that she's getting a little delirious, thinking about the gang war and how she'd been desperate for help, then. Her hand comes up to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound that isn't there, and she curses under her breath, voice thready and cracked. Just a bit further, Brown.
Her fingers fumble with the latch of window, her breath coming too shallow now, but she manages to push herself up onto the ledge and through the opening. Her landing is less than graceful, her pack catching on the frame of the window and sending her stumbling to her knees. She lets the pack fall from her shoulders, curls her fingers against the cold floor and considers trying to stand up.
But she's safe now, Bruce will make sure of it, so she finally gives up her hold on consciousness.
Date: ~17th Novemeber (or around that time)
Location: The mainland, then Bruce's suite in the Metal Sector
Situation: Steph gets attacked by a pair of llothi, it does not go well for her
Warnings/Rating: Violence, llothi, blood, injuries
It's a trap.
She knows it is, as soon as the sound of crying first reaches her ears; she's been warned about the mimicry, about the creatures that lure in prey for the llothi by pretending to be kedan, or in this case, human. She knows, that's all the sound is, that she should carefully walk away, before the llothi decide to stop waiting for her to be lured in. She's not too far in, her explosive batarangs will still work at this range, but taking on two llothi after a long day of walking on the arid mainland is a little beyond her skill. It's a trap, she knows it's a trap, and she should run.
But it's a little girl crying, and there's an ache in her heart as she thinks about her own little girl (not hers, she reminds herself, but it doesn't ease the ache). What if it really is a child, and she walked away from them?
She'd never forgive herself. In the same way that she knows it's a trap, she knows that she'll never sleep again if she doesn't find out for certain that there isn't a little kid lost out here. Of course, that doesn't mean she has to walk straight into it.
Steph heads towards the small, burnt out town with caution, sticking to the reasonable cover that the crumbling buildings provide, batarangs in her right hand, staff in her left. The buildings aren't stable enough for her to consider going to the rooftops, but as she gets closer to the source of the noise she slows down, works out what direction the wind is coming from and makes her approach from that way so that at the very least they can't get her scent.
Near the centre of town there's a building with three walls and half a roof, and it's where the crying is coming from. She doesn't get close enough to check before she hears movement to her left, and she's already running as the first llothi crashes into the wall right where she'd been a few seconds ago. There will be another one, but Steph can't get a visual one it right now so she focuses on keeping away from the first, running through the streets, ducking swipes from the creature's claws.
She realizes it's herding her, trying to get her with it's left or right claw depending on which way it wants her to go. The problem is that she can't see any other option but to let it, there's not enough room for her to make a move away from the llothi. All she can do is keep her eyes open for an opportunity to get away before they reach whatever destination the thing intends.
The chance never comes; there's a narrow alley to her left up ahead, surrounded by two stable-looking walls and she knows, she knows, just like she knew this was a trap, that the second llothi is waiting at the other end. She tries to turn, grip tightening on her staff with the thought that maybe she can fight it off, but even as she dodges the first blow, a backswing of it's arm catches her across the chest, knocking her into the wall, all the air rushing out of her as her back hits concrete.
It's a dead end except for the alley, she could try to climb one of the buildings, but her grapple's in her bag and it'd probably take too long to get out. The llothi growls at her, makes another swipe, and it's all she can do to scramble out of the way and into the narrow space, hoping the lack of room to manoeuvre will hinder the llothi as much as her.
The second is waiting at the other end. Steph can't even find it in herself to be surprised. She's trapped, and they're going to tear her apart if she doesn't think fast, doesn't move fast. Luckily she's always been good at working on the fly, it's one of the advantages of being reckless. She throws her batarangs - normal ones - at the llothi behind her, aiming for the face, the throat, the mouth, where she can hopefully do damage enough to slow it down, but she doesn't have time to actually look to see if she was successful. She's busy running at the one in front of her, as it runs towards her; she lets her bag slip from her shoulders, grabs the strap in one hand and just before she's within striking distance, throws the pack hard just past the llothi's head, hoping to distract it enough as she slides past it's legs. It should be too big to turn around easily in the small space and it might buy her enough time to get away.
For a second, she thinks it's worked, as she catches a glimpse of empty space in front of her and starts to push to her feet, and then she hears a sound like concrete shattering as llothi claws swipe easily through it.
And then her back is on fire.
She doesn't look, doesn't even break in her movement once the claws are out of her skin, she just catches the bag as it drops to the ground and runs.
They've got the scent of her blood, they know she's injured, and she knows that they not going to be so easily deterred now. And she's in pain and losing blood, which is wreaking havoc on her concentration as she keeps running through the streets, knowing that she can't break from the town yet because she can't risk giving them an advantage on open ground.
She has no idea how long she spends running from them before an opportunity presents itself in the form of a barely standing building, two walls supporting a crumbling roof. Steph sees it in the distance and desperately fishes an explosive batarang from her pocket, slowing her pace just enough to make sure the llothi don't lose interest, not there's much risk of that. She depresses the centre of the batarang, runs into the building, throws it up to stick in a beam of wood, and keeps running.
The resulting explosion knocks her off her feet, but she hears falling concrete and the llothi making - sound she doesn't want to think about. She risks a brief glance as she pushes herself to her feet. The creatures are covered by the collapsed roof, not dead, she doesn't think, but at the very least it will slow them down, and at best they'll decide this prey isn't worth the trouble.
She doesn't wait around to find out, she just starts running again.
→
By the time she finds a place to rest, her breathing is coming hard and fast, her chest aching with each intake of air and she's pretty sure her skin's on fire where the claws caught her. She twists, trying to assess the damage, but when she just gets hit by a wave of pain so bad her vision swims, she realizes it's not going to happen. There's dried blood on her hands, blood soaked in her clothes and more coming with every shift of her body, her shirt sticky and clinging to her skin with blood and sweat. She knows there's no point in trying to properly dress the wound right now. But she can try; she finds a relatively hidden spot behind some crumbling walls and drops her pack. She cuts away the bloodied part of her shirt, wipes her hands as clean as she can (she can't afford to waste water) and manages to do a rough job of bandaging up the wounds, her teeth clenched against the pain. It's not perfect, but stitches are beyond her skill at that angle. It should hold for long enough to get her back to the mainland, and she even manages to pull on the light sweatshirt she brought with her, covering the extent of the damage.
After a moment, through the haze of pain and heat and exhaustion, she remembers her communication device.
It was in her back pocket. As soon as she takes a look at the device she knows it's going to be useless, it's cracked, most likely from her brief encounter with a wall.
Wonderful.
It's hard to judge how much blood she's lost, but based on how fast her heart's been pumping and how deep the wounds are, she's gonna take a guess at too much. All she can do is try to make it back to the mainland before she passes out. Steph grabs her staff from her boot, extends it, and using it as, well, a staff, starts towards Tu Vishan, using the sun as a guide.
→
Things are a little easier back in the city; it's cooler, for one, especially considering the fact it's nightfall by the time she stumbles down off the wagon that provides transport from the edge. The trip had been hazy, all she remembers is the kedan keeping as far from her as they could in the small space. She thinks one of them tried to talk to her, but she can't remember responding. There'd been no point letting them help, she could already tell that the wounds are infected, that she was starting to burn with a fever. Simply cleaning and stitching them up wouldn't help her, she needed proper medical attention.
That should mean going to a hospital, Keeliai has them, but they're for kedan and while she knows the doctors are starting to learn, she's not sure she trusts them with human physiology.
She wishes Leslie were here. But she's not, and that leaves Steph with a narrow list of candidates who can help.
A really narrow list.
Her feet start taking her towards the Metal Sector before her mind has even really made the decision. It's a slow journey, as she sticks to the shadows and stumbles her way through back streets. It's a miracle she doesn't run into any trouble.
By the time she's at the Foreigner compound, she's vaguely aware that she's getting a little delirious, thinking about the gang war and how she'd been desperate for help, then. Her hand comes up to staunch the flow of blood from a bullet wound that isn't there, and she curses under her breath, voice thready and cracked. Just a bit further, Brown.
Her fingers fumble with the latch of window, her breath coming too shallow now, but she manages to push herself up onto the ledge and through the opening. Her landing is less than graceful, her pack catching on the frame of the window and sending her stumbling to her knees. She lets the pack fall from her shoulders, curls her fingers against the cold floor and considers trying to stand up.
But she's safe now, Bruce will make sure of it, so she finally gives up her hold on consciousness.
no subject
(He does include a fork, thank you. He's not quite that inept)
"Experience is a good teacher."
And leading a team... necessitates acquiring it.
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"Well," She lets out a breath, almost but not quite a huff of a laugh, "I've got that in spades."
Even if sometimes she feels like she doesn't, when she considers how much time of her vigilante career she's spent out of play. But then - life counts as experience as well.
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About this. Everything. Because if there's one thing Dick is good at, it's giving advice he has neither the intention nor the ability to follow. In many respects, he's his own worst enemy.
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"I've considered it," How could she not? Dick's kind of famous for having led practically every superhero team that's ever existed, and for doing it well. Everyone loves him.
Except her, and only because he was so awful to her when she started being Batgirl. She doesn't resent Babs for trying to break her; Batgirl was hers first, Babs has always been there for, she - had a right to try to hurt Steph in a way that Dick doesn't. Things might have improved a little, and she'd like them to keep improving, but she won't forget the way he treated her, which makes her unsure how to interact with him.
no subject
(And he feels a pang of guilt, wondering if this wedge between them was because Dick was simply trying to emulate Bruce in all the wrong ways. Thinking it's what he would have wanted.)
He wonders if Dick ever really talked about his 'death'. If he allowed himself to grieve and move forwards. The Dick that he observed working with Damian as the Insider was a different Dick that Stephanie would have dealt with in her early days of donning the cowl.
Dick's strength has always existed at a dichotomic angle to Bruce's own. Oh, they have their similarities. They're both strong-willed and stubborn. They tend to (with some exceptions) possess unshakeable morals. But Dick has always been brighter. As Robin. As Nightwing. Being Batman was a burden to him, Bruce knew that even before Azrael.
He's not trying to justify his behaviour. But he does... understand it. After a fashion.
"But not seriously." An observation.
no subject
She doesn't know what to say that won't sound bitter, or whiny, and she doesn't really want to complain to Bruce about his son. It seems unfair, especially when Bruce wasn't even around during all the tension and fighting between Babs and Dick about her.
After a minute or so, she settles on something that she's comfortable saying, "I'm not sure he'd think it was a good idea," And it's a true enough assessment of the situation, but what's really stopping her, aside from her own discomfort around Dick, is the worry that he'll tell her she shouldn't be anywhere near a team, because she's not good enough.
It wouldn't stop her, but it would hurt.
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no subject
"Alright," Whether that's an alright, you have a point, or alright, I'll talk to him, Steph hasn't really decided yet. She's struck with the urge to apologize, which annoys her more than anything, since there's nothing she needs to apologize for. She's just going to blame the fever.
no subject
"You should rest."
no subject
When he tells her she should rest, she doesn't bother arguing, she just lets him clear away the plates and stands up to head back to the bedroom.
At the doorway, she pauses and turns back to him, "I'm glad you're here."
It feels odd to say, but she means it, and not just for right this moment, though she does appreciate the fact he's made an effort to stay with her. She's also just glad he's in Keeliai, especially for the fact it's given them a chance to just talk, to try to make something halfway decent out of their relationship, whatever it is.