capeandcowllogs | (no subject)

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WHO: Arya Stark and Damian Wayne
WHERE: On the rooftops of Lo- the City
WHEN: Forward dated to later in the week
WARNINGS: Brats.
SUMMARY: Child assassins part two. In which powers are explored.
FORMAT: Para to start, then whatev

She had spent most of her early life wishing for freedom. To be allowed to do as she pleased rather than what was expected of her, of a daughter of Winterfell. It had taken the clean slice of a sword before a crowded square to teach her the truth of freedom: it came only when there was no one left to care. So wandering the streets of her new City as she willed did little more than force her gut to clench, the liberty little more than a reminder that she had nothing else to do with herself now. No family, no revenge, no mentor or temple or cause. It would hurt her heart were there more than a hole left there to feel it.

Working on her powers of detection was all she could care to occupy her time with, but the base needs came first. So, feet dangling over the edge of a rooftop, Arya combined the two as she sat to nibble on the odds and ends of food she’d collected over the course of the night. Below, in the alley, men clad in dark clothing gathered, likely up to no good from the look of their posture. But she was here to observe, to predict. And so she did nothing as another two entered the alley. Not yet.

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It was almost easier to fall into routine in the City than it was in Gotham. He had only been back a few days, but Robin was back to patrol with Batman, as if he’d never left. As much as they were partners, there were certain things that Grayson did on his own, and it was in those hours than Damian was left on his own. Mostly, that meant he went looking for a fight.

It didn’t take him long to find one. But he didn’t jump straight in, because that would have been too easy. And also because, rooftops being his primary road for transit, he had also spotted Arya. He landed quietly on the roof, opposite from her, and didn’t make a move towards her. In another second he’d have to intervene down below.

Her eyebrows went up as the boy landed opposite her, her own movement to stand aborted the moment she identified him as the hero from before. Non-lethal threat. If even any kind of a threat to begin with. No point in wasting the energy. Following his gaze, however, she could guess easily enough what he was really here for: the men below. Her men. Even if only through observation.

The curious look was rapidly replaced by narrowed eyes and Arya tore off a piece of the sweet bread in her hands, holding the rest of the bun between her teeth. In one swift motion she tossed it to her left hand and threw it across the distance between them, aiming for his face.

Back off.

If Damian had stopped to think about, he would have realized her immediate hostility—and coming from someone he didn’t think of as much of a thread—was exactly what he usually faced the world with. Damian wasn’t that reflective of a person, however, and so he just swatted the bread away instinctively as it made for his face. He tutted in irritation.

“What was that for?” he demanded. Sure, he knew she was cautious—and she rightly should be, he thought—but that was just uncalled for.

"For trying to take what's mine, Robin. Or thinking of it."

It was almost idly spoken as she ripped another pieces off the bun, talking around the full mouth. Her legs continued to swing idly, making it look for all the world like a casual conversation between two well antiquated individuals. She didn't need the men below getting the idea either of them might be distracted with fighting each other should they happen to look up.

It took Damian a moment to register this, but when he did he couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Yours? And just what are you going to do against them?” His tone was nothing short of challenging, though his voice didn’t rise. He might have the skills and dedication to be a pre-teen vigilante, but he hardly thought that anyone else was capable of it. Not even her.

“You’re ridiculous.” He told her.

The laughter made her straighten her spine, though her hand stayed well away from the weapon at her side. They'd been down that road, and only an idiot would walk down the same one twice. The bun, however, was quickly turning to a sugary, condensed mush in her fist.

"And you're a stupid boy. I can do whatever I want. Right now, I want to watch. So sit down and wait until I give them to you, or go away."

"You want to watch, and you think I'm the stupid one?" But he had the time, and it wasn't like they were going anywhere. Rather that obey her orders, however, he remained standing with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Honestly, what do you think they're going to do?"

"Watching is how you learn."

She tried to keep the edge of doubt out of that sentence. Doing was more how she learned, but she'd agreed to be the detective's student so she was giving his way a shot. Watch and then do. For now.

"I don't know what they're going to do. That's why I'm here. And if you're staying, you're going to get bored just standing like that."

Damian considered this for a long moment and then just shrugged. He lowered himself onto the ledge a few feet away from her. He drew one knee up to his chest and watched, for a moment.

"There better be a step two in this plan."

"Or what?"

She almost left it at that- then decided a split second later implying that she hadn't thought this out to completion wasn't the impression she was aiming for.

"And of course there is. But I'd know what you'd do. Go beat them up, leave, and let the cops do what the want, right?"

"I'd stop them from committing a crime," Damian snapped back, but despite the sharpness of his tone he was saying the words as though by rote. There was still a disconnect, for him, between the things he did and the reasons he gave for them.

"The cops just clean things up after I've done the real work."

"Of making it worse. It's not like they just go away."

She scowled down at the men below rather than at Robin with that, her thoughts turned suddenly back to Joffery and Lady and Sansa. And father. Stopping one crime didn't mean a worse one wouldn't come out as a result of it.

"Maybe making it worse."

"But actually making it better." He snorts. "Unless you had a better idea?"

"Better for who?"

Not that she really did have a better plan. So she shrugged, and tossed the last bit of her snack to the side, leaving it for the birds to pick at.

"I've come for me, not to save anyone. There's plenty of others to go play with if you like."

"Except that it's not about finding something to keep occupied. It's about solving a problem when you see it."

He tuts again, under his breath. He's curious enough about what she's up to that he doesn't move to leave.

"Who sent you?"

The exasperation in her voice is almost overwhelming. She wouldn't be half so annoyed with it all if he didn't sound like a lord. Like Robb, like her father. Just the smallest amount. While she sounded less like them every day.

He looks at her, baffled for a moment. Even after a year in the City, he still expects people to associate him and Batman as a pair. And even if she couldn't make that connection, it's an odd question.

"What makes you think I can't act on my own?"

"Because no one thinks like that unless someone told them to. It's not natural."

And there's an edge of bitterness she can't quite keep out of her voice, and she ends up glaring at the men below them rather than meeting his eye. They were going to notice the pair sitting on the roof if they kept talking, she knew. But she was getting near past caring about learning. A fight would be nice.

Damian, however, cares a lot. Far too much, actually, so much so that he takes a lot of issue with what she just said. So he reaches over and gives her a shove that isn't gentle.

"I think for myself. I don't need to watch thugs on the street to learn something."

[aaand this seemed like a good time to bring this in, let me know if it doesn't work.]

The threat couldn't go ignored, and Arya releases the bits of food still in hand to spin up into a defensive crouch on the ledge- or tries to, save for her hand finding the patch of rotten brick to brace herself again. As she presses the palm- and her full weight- onto the ledge, the brick gives, crumbling down on top of the now nearly forgotten thugs below. With Arya along after it.

"Robi-"

The startled gasp ending in a screech as, rather than the scrawny girl of a moment before, an American robin flutters in the air before him. A more than a little frantic, angry robin.

_{( more than fine! )}

Damian's about to reach out and grab her--he hadn't intended to hurt her, at least not really. And maybe somewhere, for a split second, he's sorry, because not pushing people off of buildings is exactly the sort of thing he's been working on lately. But of course, before he can, that happens, and he's left staring at the bird.

He stares for a moment longer, before reaching out a hand tentatively--the same hand that had been making a move to grab her a few seconds earlier.

"That is you, right?"

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