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Post by Nomz on Nov 11, 2024 15:21:12 GMT
The windowsill slides open without so much as a squeak of protest and a dark figure slips into the opening. His boots land on the welcome mat that had been placed there, soaking in the grime of the city. Damian can't argue with the sense to location of the mat makes since they never come through the door and he can't bring himself to admit it feels welcoming. Well, as welcoming as a seemingly abandoned flat can feel with an oddly placed welcome mat.
White lenses flick across the open kitchen and livingroom, searching for anything immediately out of place or any lurking threats. While he had checked the cameras twice before even grappling down from the roof, he knows that there are countless ways around such a system. He knows that he should ask Barbara for help with the security, but he isn't sure he wants to share this part of his life. He doesn't have to be anything more than Damian, New York's Renegade when he is with Gwen.
He cards one hand through his curls, shoving his hood off his head as he tucks his gloves into his belt with the other. The air is heavy with humidity and the scent of cinnamon and honey. The latter is in an effort to rid the area of the damp smell of Gotham a dilapidated building on the coast. Damian walks the perimeter of the flat, checking all his traps, caches, and even the fridge. It had taken the better part of an afternoon when he should have been in school fixing it up. He wonders how long it will take the school to realize he set up a low grade AI to do his assignments.
While he certainly had the funds to refurbish the entire flat, he did not want to tip his hand quite so much. It also felt...more like his if he put in the time to fix it. Given, he had worked his way into the Wayne Family Funds to pay for the entire block. Renegade isn't sure if he covered his tracks entirely, but he did his best. If Mr. Wayne had an issue with it, he could come down from his ivory tower and talk to him.
The 1950's fridge shuts with a soft whoosh of displaced air and Renegade drops onto the couch. Knowing his companion, he should have enough time to sketch a little. Condensation rolls off the bottle of water onto the cartoon coasters salvaged from the salvation army off of 46th street. The sketch is one of Ghost as she hung from the underside of an ledge in the rain. All that is left is to perfect the shading from the lights below her. It is a small hobby that he's only just started bringing around the hero.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 12, 2024 12:13:54 GMT
If it hadn't been for the doormat placed underneath the window sill, Gwen would have thought she had accidently swung through into someone's actual flat again. The rundown room had been perfect as a basecamp for when she was on patrol. Out of the way, abandoned and in a fairly empty block, Gwen hadn't minded that it wasn't exactly a high end penthouse suite. It was just a place to store her spare gear, emergency medical equipment and somewhere she could catch a few naps when she needed to.
"Woah."
It had become... an actual flat. Nicer than the one she currently rented, even. Gwen stood by the window, taking in the vast improvement of a base that greeted her. Then she laid eyes on Damian. Gwen pulled off her mask, revealing a bemused grin underneath. She dropped her hood, shaking out her blond hair as she took a step into the flat.
"Did you do all this, Damian? I'm impressed, if not a bit confused!"
Despite the fact that the two of them had been on a fair few missions and patrols since meeting each other not too long ago, Gwen still managed to be surprised with things this quiet assassin child did with each new meeting. Even the fact he had a sketchpad on his lap was surprising.
Not one to pry on people's personal work, Gwen went to the fridge instead, giving him a chance to close the book if he wanted to. She opened it up, surveying the drink selection. Like everything in this universe, they were ever so slightly different. Some of them were totally foreign. Gwen chose one that was a bright, unnatural sky blue, which she usually figured meant it was crammed full of sugar and delicious e-numbers, and hopped up onto the refurbished kitchen side unit, dangling her legs as she took a drink.
"What's up, Renegade?"
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Post by Nomz on Nov 13, 2024 2:08:59 GMT
Damian didn't shift from his position on the couch as Gwen landed in the flat, though his pencil did lift from the sketchbook. He waits for a response and her exclamation of surprise (?) eases his mind. Most of the work he had done had been without her input and there had been an underlying worry that maybe it had all been too much. The couch creaks softly when he turns to face in mild amusement as she pulls off her mask. That little habit was the majority of the reason he had bought out the area.
No chance of anyone just walking in on them.
"I got tired of the refrigerator not working." It isn't a lie. He really had gotten fed up with the fridge just being a fancy cabinet, more so after a long patrol. "If you'd like, I can always show you how to repair it."
Damian settles against the back of the couch, watching as Gwen walks over to the bulky thing likely older than either of their parents. Had he studied for 3 days straight before he tried to restore the electronic? Absolutely. Did that make him a mechanical genius? Fuck no. Would he be glad to teach her anyway? Yeah.
Did he also stock the fridge with sweet energy drinks because she seemed like the type?
He'd never admit it.
"Things have been eventful," he hesitates as his eyes fall back to his sketch. There are details of his life he just can't let her know and that eats at him a little more every time she smiles at him. Damian lifts the book to show her, mindful to keep it in the light of the little table lamp he brought over from a different abandoned flat in the building. It was the least offensive thing he'd found despite the tacky duck face on the front of it. "More importantly, I'm almost done with this and I realize that it may be best to offer it to you. After all, you are the subject of it."
"Unless you don't want it. I can always just scrap it."
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 15, 2024 23:17:27 GMT
"Yeah, sure."
Gwen looked at Damian with a knowing little glint in her eye, her mouth turned upwards in a grin. What she had come to learn was that he was very much someone who hid his true emotions beneath layers and layers of what could be perceived as sensibility, but were steeped in emotions that he hid well. She wouldn't strip those layers away if he didn't want to.
"You know, I'm, like, sixteen years old, so obviously I don't know how to repair a fridge, but if you wanna show me how, I'm all ears and eyes and what-not!"
Gwen moved to the edge of the sofa, where she sat on the arm with her legs crossed before her, looking down at Damian and his art. She figured there was a lot going on behind the mask that he wouldn't or couldn't tell her, and she doesn't blame him. That kind of secret could get not just you, but your whole family killed. She raised an eyebrow at his declaration, smiling lightly in the now well-lit room.
"You drew me? I'm so flattered. I dont think anyone has, like, drawn me before. Go on, show me?"
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Post by Nomz on Nov 18, 2024 2:06:49 GMT
Damian tips his head a little, rolling his eyes at Gwen and her eagerness over learning how to repair a fridge. A tiny part of him wonders if this counts as bonding. It feels like it does.
"Having you tilt the fridge so I can gain easier access would have made the project easier. I'll remember to text you when it comes to fixing the heater."
He watches as she sits on the arm of the sofa and then inches a little closer. The sketchbook he passes off to her is older than their time together. The metal rings that hold the pages together are new and shiny, indicating that they've been replaced. For some reason, Damian keeps this book around. The image at the top is from their last patrol together where they had been caught out in the rain. Gwen hangs from the underside of a ledge with part of Queens laid out below her.
"There are a few more, but that is the best one so far." Damian sounds like he's merely talking about plastic cups at the consignment store over on 5th and he reaches under the coffee table to pull out a little black radio. Already his fingers are turning it on and playing with the dial. "You can look through it while I pull up the police scanner."
The ten or so pages before that top sketch are of Gwen. In some, she is swinging through the city or walking sideways on a building. Some are clearly when he had a chance to draw in the moment and others are from memory. Further back than that are a handful of the city itself from different angles. If she goes further than that, there are cityscapes from a place that is distinctly not New York if its dark, gothic architecture and nearly always raining weather is anything to go by.
Occasionally, there are people tucked into dark alleyways or hanging from grapples above the city. A taller man in a skintight uniform ruffling the hair of shorter man wearing a long cape as he gestures wildly. A man in a leather jacket with short, dark hair as he walks away with a biker's helmet under his arm. A trio standing over a group of tied up goons. The man in a lightly shaded uniform and two little triangles sitting on top of his cowl is bent over in laughter. A woman with a hood and scarf leans on him as if she can hardly stand. The third person stands a little apart, cape billowing behind her and she too has those little triangles on top of her head.
The one thing that is constant in all of these is that Damian is not included in the scene and that none of their fronts are fully revealed. Identities hidden unless you know them well enough by the few details he shows. Renegade mentioned once that he used to be part of a family- that his family is broken now. It would seem that this sketchbook is worth its weight in more than just gold.
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 18, 2024 12:56:43 GMT
Gwen quietly flipped through the book, lingering at each page to take in what Damian had drawn. Was this from memory? They were incredibly good. Gwen recognised talent, one artist to another. Her vision came from the rhythm of the drums, the beat of the song. Damian's was putting the world onto paper with such ease. She smiled softly as she turned each page of her.
Gwen went through the book, pausing on the people. Six other people in total. One of them catches her eye more than the others. Gwen grins to herself. Small world, huh? She glanced up at Damian, then closed the sketchbook carefully, balancing it on her knees.
"These are, like, so amazing. When did you learn how to sketch like this?"
She paused, thinking back to what he had briefly touched upon before. Gwen pondered for a second, then looked up again at her new teammate.
"Are these sketches of your... old family?"
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Post by Nomz on Nov 18, 2024 19:50:00 GMT
Damian hums quietly under his breath as he works, thinking about Gwen's question. He looks for all the world like he hasn't been hyperaware of how far into the book she looked. It is, he decides, the closest he can get to showing her his family without risking much. " I learned more than how to just be an assassin. Art was considered a worthy enough skill that I was granted permission to pursue it." His voice is soft as he speaks. While it is not sacred knowledge, it still feels odd to mention things from his long years in the league. " It-" he pauses and even his hands halt their movements as he stares ahead, trying to find the words. How does one- " Life is emptier without it." He doesn't know how to explain it beyond that. Damian's interactions with other artists have been far and few between. The words needed to explain that his art feels as necessary in his life as his sword arm don't come to mind. Renegade turns his attention back to the radio, frowning as audio spills in. So far, nothing important. " Yes. The ones that went out in the night, at least." The couch complains as he settles against the back of it again, crossing his arms and tilting his head a little to look at Gwen. This is as close to unmasking as he can get. He hopes the parts of himself that he shares make up for it. " They're still alive. I don't fit, despite my efforts. They were raised by their- our- father. I was raised by assassins. By time I came around, he was no longer involved." These long weeks from Gotham have given him clarity on many things about his departure from Gotham and the Belfry Brood. In his heart, he misses them, but he knows he can't go back. Won't go back. Not when he can be Renegade. " I feel more complete here. I fit." With you. " Why?" |
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 19, 2024 22:18:03 GMT
Gwen smiled as the young boy spoke so freely. Maybe he didn't notice it, but he had been talking more about his life with each passing meeting. It was cute, and endearing. It was... a different kind of friendship to the Champions, or Wally.
Speaking of...
Gwen licked the tip of her thumb and carefully lifted the page back over, open on the three figures. She pointed a finger at the black-clad girl, looking up at Damian with a cocked head and a curious gaze.
"It's just... I know this one. Cassandra, right? Batgirl? I didn't, like, link the two of you at all, but now I know you're, like, family, I can totally see it!"
Gwen grinned, but there was a sparkle of sadness dancing across the sky within her eyes. She looked down at the sketchbook again, tucking her hair behind her ears, frowning.
"It didn't sound like you had much of a choice with your... training, huh? You were thrown into something without knowing if it was you wanted, but you never got the chance to make the choice? That's, like, super rough."
Gwen stared at the sketch of Cass, still frowning. This family... it made her feel like she had had it easy. Well, except the dead best friend, dead dad, lost in the multiverse kind of thing... Gwen paused in her thinking as sadness crept into her chest. It wasn't something she felt often. Most of the time she bottled these negative emotions up and buried them waaaaaaaaaay down deep inside of her. So... why now?
Gwen glanced up at Damian. Despite her misty eyes, she looked suddenly happy, smiling wide at the boy. There was a forecast of rain, a moistness to her eyes, but the sun was persisting across her face even so.
"Hey. I feel complete here too. I've found it hard to fit in, so I'm glad I, like, found you, you know?"
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Post by Nomz on Nov 20, 2024 17:41:25 GMT
Damian's gaze lands on the sketch of Thomas, Cain, and Brown, curious as to why she flipped back to it. When her finger taps on the image of Batgirl, his heart sinks just a bit and he feels he knows her next words before they slip free into the space between them. Gwen knows her. Gwen must be a Champion. He hadn't asked and part of him feels like he shouldn't be surprised.
Gwen is young and skilled. She would be an asset to any team that was lucky enough to gain her attention. And so is Cain. He nods his head a little stiffly in confirmation that it is indeed a sketch of Batgirl. His lips part and Damian is not moderating what comes out.
"It was my lineage and considered a privilege. No matter how many times I fell, they made sure I came back. Choice was a word left for the dictionary." His voice is soft and full of meaning beyond what the words imply. His teeth bite into his tongue as he turns on the couch to face Gwen fully, hands resting on his knees. He needs to tell her- to beg her- not to tell Cain that she knows him or that they work together.
It feels like the floor is rushing towards him and the walls are closing in. He swallows hard, but his voice refuses to be used again. Then, like the sun coming out after a storm, Gwen is smiling over at him and chasing away his clouds. Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it's okay if Cain knows where Damian is and what he's doing.
"I'm glad you found me too. For more reason than one," he responds. Before he can think better of it, Damian lifts his arms up and out just a little. It's a silent offering for a hug. It's the first. "You'll always fit with me."
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 21, 2024 20:36:54 GMT
Gwen listened to the words unsaid, a slight pang of sadness swirling in her chest as Damian looked uncomfortable. Something lurked deep within the shadows of his soul, something he didn't want to talk about. She wondered how someone like Cassandra could be tainted by negativity, or perhaps what kind of event could make that happen.
"Listen... I won't tell your secret. Don't worry."
She paused, hesitated. Then she leant forward, pulling him into an embrace, a tight and close hug. Gwen needed it too, she realised, but so did he. More than either of them knew, she wagered.
"You're alright, Renegade. It's okay. You and me... we're, like, special, y'know? Whatever happened to us before today doesn't matter. It's all good, Damian."
Gwen pulled away, hands on his shoulders, smiling a kindly, sisterly smile. She didn't have a younger brother, but she imagined this is how it felt. Family.
"And, look - I won't tell Batsy if you don't want me too. But she's alright, you know? You and her would get on, I think. You don't have to think of her in terms of... whatever you have going on. But no presh. Never any pressure! The two of us - we fit well enough, for sure."
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Post by Nomz on Nov 22, 2024 17:22:24 GMT
Her words mean more to him than Damian knows how to express and he's boneless in the hug. He has been hugged by so few and willingly hugged far less than that. It's warm. His hands rest on her back and he pats twice, fairly sure he is supposed to do that. The lad wonders if this is what he is supposed to have with Brown and Cain. It is close to what he has with Barbara. Different, but similar.
"Thank you, شبح. I know I can trust you. I do trust you."
He tucks his face into her shoulder for a few precious seconds before he pulls away. Damian has a tiny little smile that he tries to hide by looking down at the police scanner abandoned on the coffee table.
"We tried. Miscommunication is too easy between us unless it is a mission." He shakes his head, watching the condensation dripping down the sides of his water bottle. Despite being close to winter, the humidity in the city only seems to be building. If they're lucky, the sky will break into rain.
"We are too similar while not similar enough. You have the skills to understand me when my words are not the best or my tone is poor. I do not always understand her even when I think I do."
The couch complains as he stands up and his water bottle crinkles in protest as he opens it. Renegade looks over at Gwen and smirks. "We should get to patrolling, right?"
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 23, 2024 20:50:04 GMT
The huh could have felt awkward if Gwen didn't know Damian already. His small nuances had grown on her since her first meeting, and the fact he patted her back while his body lay limp within her tight hug was enough for her to know it meant a lot. She drank it in, and once she had had her fill, the Spider withdraw, smiling like a child in the face of the best surprise present they could have received. "You and me both. Let me see if I've got this right, and please tell me if I've fudged this up... you're a true companion and friend, مرتد."
The words were strange on her tongue, but Gwen had practiced. She rocked back, sitting on her legs curled underneath her. Gwen listened to his soft words, nodding to herself.
"Yeah... I mean, I understand you both, even in the things you don't say. You're both, like, very careful with what you actually put into words. Cass, for sure, doesn't really express much at all. Do you think..."Gwen hesitated, avoiding the boy's eyes as she frowned and thought to herself. Her hands curled into fists in her lap.
"...if I could help you two communicate," she slowly said in a low, careful voice, "that it would be something you'd want?"Gwen looked at Renegade with a curious expression. Tentative and cautious. She didnt want to pressure him into something he didn't want.
"Like, if you wanted to have a mediator. See, I like you a lot. I like Cass a lot. I think... if you took the context of, uh, the family you spoke of, then maybe... maybe you'd be able to get along better?"
Gwen shrugged, her expression unsure and uncertain. "Only if you want. If not... we can go patrolling and just, like, forget it. I don't wanna put a wedge between us. But I can't ignore the fact I know you both but neither of you talk, or whatever. You're a great friend. Cass is a great friend. You could be great friends together, you know?" |
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Post by Nomz on Nov 24, 2024 14:52:24 GMT
Damian grows very still as she speaks his language, clearly caught by surprise. Even ducking his head isn't quite enough to hide how his cheeks press into the edges of his domino with the force of his smile. He bites his tongue to try and shake the expression, but it doesn't quite leave even as they talk.
His eyes end up looking down at his water bottle before lifting to look out the window nearby. He recognizes the out that Gwen is offering him and also the boon she is offering as well. The tonfa sit a little heavier against his lower back. Out of everyone, he trusts that Cain would understand the meaning behind his choices. He does not need her approval, though he would not be against having it. More than that, it would be nice to have Cain around again.
He could tell her about his training and how it feels to be learning from Shiva. She would understand the weight that carries. They could train and spar together. Honestly, he wouldn't be against getting closer to her. Close like he is with Gwen. Close like he is with Barbara. Damian's grip tightens just a fraction on his water bottle.
If she turned him down or hurt him again, at least he would have Gwen to keep him afloat and Barbara to keep him safe and Johnny to ease the weight on his chest and Splinter with his words of wisdom and kindness.
"Alright, Gwen. Not- We won't do it today, but," and he looks over at her, a little lost and hopeful. "If you want to see if she is amenable to such a thing, I am willing to try."
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Post by Beriadan on Nov 24, 2024 15:13:54 GMT
Gwen looks pleased with herself as Damian responded positively to her speaking his language. She rose to her feet, grabbing her mask and pausing for a moment.
"Alright. I'm pretty close with Cass at work, so if you're, like, cool with that, then I'll... delicately bring up the subject."
She bit her lip as she pulled the mask over her head. Ghost-Spider looked back at Renegade, cocking her head to the side.
"I just want you guys to be happy, y'know? Family... it's easy to take it for granted until it's gone for good."
Gwen paused again, looking away out of the window. Her body slumped slightly, a weight on her shoulders pressing down harder and harder. She spoke quieter, almost to herself.
"Once they're gone, no matter what nasty things you've said to them or what you've done... they don't come back. So hold onto them if you can."
Gwen spun around, finger guns pointed at Renegade.
"Last person to find a criminal is buying the hot dogs!"
She swung an arm out, a web rope shooting from her wrist, and in a second was gone, swinging into the cold night air for Renegade to follow.
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