I put a shield upon you, I didn't mean to hurt you--

[dragonvariation]

Who: Ra's al Ghul and you~
When: Mostly after sirens on Sunday night - but also one Saturday thread, and open for threads for the rest of the week.
Where: In the Darkness across the city
Summary: Ra's goes out to investigate the Darkness for himself--with a special interest in the people who go out to fight it.
Warnings: Violence and monster guts

Comments

[terminates]

[ He's out.

Not every night and certainly not as frequently as some, but he dares far more than most. Armed to the teeth, he keeps to the rooftops and shadows, navigating the Darkness with the proficiency of a man entirely familiar with hostile environments.

One might almost say he relishes them. ]

[dragonvariation]

[ A man with so many weapons should move more heavily, Ra's observes, keeping close to the round edge of the old-fashioned clock tower on which he stood. The facade was almost as black as the night around them, and it concealed him easily, let him watch from relative obscurity--unless someone was looking for him.

But a man with so many weapons was something else, too--he was a man with resources, and he was a man with the ability to use them. Ra's needed both, resources more than men, but one and the other often came hand in hand.

Deliberately he shifted so as to be noticed, a slight moving of shadows which would attract anyone's attention in a hostile environment like this one. ]

[terminates]

[ He sees it.

Looking up from his perch on a dilapidated rooftop, his gaze is sharp as he peers at the mass of shadows not too far off.

He makes no move to approach (caution is never out of place), and his stance is certain. Whether the source of movement be man or creature, he holds no fear. ]

[dragonvariation]

[ Good. He knows attention when he has it, and the frozen, confident stance is a good sign. This man knows what he's doing.

Ra's moves again, this time blending out of the shadows into the form of a man, jumping from his tower to the roof next to it, as light and soundless as the night itself. Keeping his feet light on the tiles, he climbs without dislodging a single one, his knees bent and shoulders low, and springs onto the next rooftop along from the masked man, straightening to his full height on the wall's edge.

At which point he approaches no more, his arms open, and waits. ]

[kingofrooks]

It had taken time for Bruce to be used to the smell of the Darkness; to have the smell be delegated to the back of his head and not noticed - the second night, perhaps. He had rarely let these things affect him, not when there were people who still needed his help. Not necessary people who wanted it, but if Bruce only went to places where he was wanted he would have never gotten anything at all done. He worked base on necessity; it was Clark who chased the public's approval, for Bruce had made sure that they were often wrong-footed about his very existence.

Though, that was difficult here, on such a small island on such a smaller population. With the Joker and Black Mask. They knew he existed- and as a result he used to be a wanted man. Used to be only on the virtue that he was reported dead at one point. There was more than enough proof of Batman's existence- yet his methods and intentions were still a mystery

[dragonvariation]

Waiting always rewarded in the end. Tonight, it rewarded early, for his 'wildlife' watching was already beginning to pay off. The Gotham Greater-Eared Bat; larger than any other variety across North America, and twice as dangerous, though nobody had ever been killed by one--so to speak.

Batman's landing was utterly silent. It had taken Henri time to teach him that, because rich people were often clumsy, and their large houses had no ears to care that someone was making too much noise. Fighting in silence was an art, but he had taught him how to catch his weight from considerable heights, to take the shock and sound of landing through his legs and back

[kingofrooks]

The calm was something unexpected for a supposedly new vigilante haunting the night- but the voice was something even more difficult to swallow. That was Aslan's voice. Much sharper, much more human without the steady calm and godly wisdom threaded in every word- but that was still undeniably Aslan's voice. His voice in a body that looked nothing like a lion- and, more important, in a body that not once had held itself like a God. There was something in his body language that spoke of arrogance; a look in his eyes that spoke of judgment. Nothing that he could have ever found when it came to Aslan. No, this man was

[dragonvariation]

Twenty-seven seconds. It was a magnificent pause for thought, and he wondered for a moment whether his once student considered lunging forward to pull the balaclava from his face, whether what he learnt from what he saw before him was sufficient enough to satisfy his curiosity; his overbearing need to understand. He wondered whether he would consider it hypocritical to pull away another man's mask while still hiding behind his own, or if so doing would be a justifiable hypocrisy

[thelittlestbub]

Time to go home. She waved good bye to the security at Lion's Gate and stepped out into the Darkness, rolling her shoulders. It'd been a long night.

Yawning, she stretched and began wandering home. The monsters tonight weren't prolific, or maybe she just was missing them. Hearing some dogs, she looked over her shoulder and sighed, making a run for a fire escape. The ropes came after her and she sent off a spark, and jumped up, pulling herself up. Sighing, she rested her chin on her hand and watched the dogs milling below.

"Ya know, sometimes, a girl just wants to walk home in peace." The dogs looked up at her and she stuck her tongue out at them and climbed onto the roof.

Roof running it was.

[dragonvariation]

Ra's was watching comings and going from above. Those who dared to venture home after Darkness fell - and there were a few - must be either fast or fools to go about in the night on their own. It was a risk that he had yet to qualify, for even he, moving between shadows and narrow places, moving quickly only to settle into long periods of stillness, had still found his hiding places infested if he stayed too long, or found himself noticed if he moved too slowly. He was prey to the monsters out here, yet as the vigilantes faced it every night then so could he

[thelittlestbub]

Her foot lashed out and the PAFs struck the building near his head as she backflipped away. Jubilee was a trained fighter and she'd gained some timing and more than a little accuracy over the years and especially in the last few weeks training in the Danger Room.

She crouched, the PAFs extinguished as her eyes hunted the darkness for who - or what; what was always a possibility - had spoken. Luckily, she'd taken to wearing her uniform under her work clothes. She was protected.

... Sorta.

[dragonvariation]

The fireworks - if that was what they were - came close to hitting him, but the foot came closest, and he was forced to raise his own hands to defend from the kick as she launched herself away from him. He fell still once more in the dark as the lights extinguished, and only after a moment did he stand, making deliberately as much of a physical presence of himself as possible.

He stood.

"Not the introduction I'd expected."

[refrigeratormom]

[Greeter duty, third shift. The most rewarding job you wish you never did.

Tonight, it has her polishing her second handgun on her shirt while leaned against the fence around the baseball diamond, twenty minutes after midnight. She had just set aside the book she'd been reading in the dugout (taking it in shifts to wait in safety for brief rests between time outside) and was almost enjoying the sick, foul-smelling Darkness duty. It made her feel perversely alive. Every minute or so, her glance (ever wandering, ever checking the shadows and the skies) alights on the center of the diamond, alert for new arrivals.]

[Assuming this to be Saturday night, rather than Sunday. Hope that's okay?]

[dragonvariation]

[ When Ra's is pulled, it's an arrival of great violence. All at once the Pull slings him forward, as though he's been dragged out of a high speed crash, and he's thrown onto the field like a foul ball, high speed.

Instinct saves him, only because his eyes snap open at the last second. He hits the ground in a roll, but even then when he finds his feet it's one roll too early, and he stumbles to his knees two strides later, catching himself with both hands and a painful grunt.

Winded.

He's actually winded.

And it's shocking, because that means he's alive. The ground had been coming up toward him, the train ahead of him had crumpled and there was the heat of impact, the pain in his legs was still there from the shock of hitting concrete at a hundred and fifty kilometers per hour.

But he's alive, on his hands and knees on dirt in a dark city, and every breath that he takes is a miracle--and he doesn't believe in miracles

[refrigeratormom]

[And that would be her cue to enter stage right. Mary runs closer, visible in the Darkness in her black tank top and pants (as visible as lone light's rays glinting off the guns in her leg holsters), but stops some distance away, carefully ensuring some light falls on her. These Newcomers, man- they could be jumpy, and dangerous besides.]

Hello? [Wave. See? She's being friendly.]

[dragonvariation]

[ He's immediately en guarde when she approaches, raising both of his hands, taking a step back to square his shoulders.

Jumpy for sure--and she had guns.

Okay, so guns weren't exactly rare in Gotham, but at least people made an effort to hide them; this was different. ]

Come no closer.

[ What the hell was that smell? He was noticing it now, a stench that bit at his eyes, made him grimace. ]

Eurgh.

[aslandish]

[ There are many beings who wander the darkened streets of Siren's Port at night -- most hostile, some not, while others are something else entirely.

A beacon in the midst of a fetid, rotting world, the light of his presence drives away even the most foreboding of shadows. The creatures of the night avoid him, leaving his path clear of most obstacles.

A girl no older then six clings to his mane, her face streaked with dirt and tears. Having lost her way, he is prepared to take her home. ]

[dragonvariation]

[ There are many things - unusual, unconscionable things - that wander the darkened streets of Siren's Port at night; many things that Ra's had expected to see, and some that he had not. The lion was in the second category, a light amongst the Darkness, hope itself in golden mane and gilded fur. The girl on its back should be dead, chewed up and eaten by one of the monsters in the dark, but instead the lion - and it is a vast lion - is carrying her to safety.

Ra's considers not approaching, at first, but he recognises his own fear and shakes it off; the weakness is below him.

Quietly he drops down from his hiding place in shadow, into the light of the lion. ]

[aslandish]

[ He turns his head, golden eyes alighting upon the figure clad in black. Though he says nothing, there is something in that gaze that suggests intelligence, a depth of knowledge and understanding that surpasses even the most transcendent of thinkers.

The child he bears looks at the newcomer and starts, clinging more tightly to the lion than before. It is she, however, that is the first to speak, tremulous and small. ]

W-Who are you?

[dragonvariation]

[ Up until that moment he might have been a very human part of the Darkness, but Ra's removes his balaclava, and there is nothing even remotely monstrous to his face except for his moustabeard, let's face it.

He steps forward, regarding the child quietly. Is she in control of the lion, perhaps? One of those powers he's heard about? The ability to summon a giant lion made of light might be a useful power to have, come to think of it. He introduces himself by one name, not the other. ]

My name is Ducard. Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm.