CUE THE ICONIC THEME!
Sorry for the long wait, but I caught 3 illnesses at once (ear and upper respiratory infections and strep throat) over my summer break. I was extremely icky feeling and unmotivated because nature doesn't care what I have to do in life, only the misery. That was why Prelude came a bit later than I planned.
Then, as you all have learned, my summer quarter has begun and absolutely swamped me. I've/school in general stressed meself out, so expect possibly (more than likely) slower updates. Not that they weren't already frustrating… Sorry, but thanks for hanging out and sticking with!
By the By, this is ugly. This arc will most likely be EXTREMELY BLOODY AND POSSIBLY DISTURBING?, so there is your warning. I know it could bother some readers, so I thought I might warn you.
ToastyThief
Damian stared at the landline telephone with poorly hidden frustration. He was warring with himself. Small twitches in his facial features were the only sign of the vicious battle of wills that Damian had found himself in. Richard would call if something was amiss. Richard wouldn't because he would protect his siblings from any remote danger…even a papercut as Brown was unfortunate enough to find out. Of course, nothing was wrong and Damian was overreacting like the child he so vehemently denied he was.
But it had been months and none of them had noticed their eldest bird missing. Damian was screaming at this oversight. He should've realized it faster! Richard never went longer than a month without visiting or calling…but the little boy had become swamped with schoolwork and patrols that he'd been too tired to check in with his former mentor, instead flopping into bed as soon as he returned to the Manor. The fact didn't console the smallest Wayne as much as it should.
The phone began to shudder from the force of its jangling ring. Damian snatched it from the casing before the first could even stop and spat out the obligatory greeting. He tried to ignore the leap his heart took as he waited for a reply.
"Oh great, it's Demon Spawn," Todd groaned. Before the customary, acidic reply could be administered, the older man continued, "Dick was supposed to patrol with Cass and me last night. Do you know where he is so that I can harass him for missing our date?" Damian felt his heart freeze. Todd seemed to notice it, but didn't press. He knew how the League of Assassins worked. They both had been members for a while after all.
"Richard hasn't checked in at his appointed times for a few nights now. I would ask Father, but he has been…preoccupied with the Justice League as of late. That means, however, that Father had no time to assign Richard a mission and the man always tells us of his undercover police work," Damian answered. "I will go to the Cave and then Watch Tower for clues there if you search his apartment and inform Drake and Gordan." The affirmation was ignored as Damian slammed the phone into its cradle.
He would locate Richard and berate him viciously for making Damian Wayne-Al Ghul fret like some useless housewife.
SKIPPITY DOO DAH-SKIPPITY EHH-MY OH MY WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY 3
Damian was storming through the Watchtower with menace flowing from each slamming green combat boot onto the metallic flooring. He had a specially-made katana attached to his utility belt and the hood of his cape created a deep shadow over his glaring, masked eyes. The child looked intimidating despite his small stature and was using it to his advantage to avoid the other heroes in the space station. They would back away with wide eyes and upraised hands, backs hitting the white walls with consecutive dull thumps. He hadn't yet found the man he was searching for, but it would be soon apparent if Superman was even here. Damian was aware of Superman's actions in this destressing development via his Father's "secure" League files. The mere thought of why he was here made Damian's teeth grind; the pressure exerted on them almost cracking one of them before Damian realized it and refrained. Doing so wouldn't assist him in his goal.
Richard had gone to ground for the League. Not even Drake or Gordan could find him in any files or cameras, the best information procurers in Father's large assemblage of allies. He had left no notes, no warning, not even a simple "goodbye" before larking off to who knew where for whatever reason. Richard never left like that unless under specific orders; the whole heroic community knew that for a fact. The question was who would have the gall to oppose Batman? Superman, of course. Which was why Damian was now on the warpath searching for the pathetic excuse of heroism Superman posed as in the Watchtower. The alien seemed to be aware of the child's ire and had scarpered as fast as he could.
"Superman." The sudden, but quietly furious voice of his father made Damian pause for just a moment before he barged into the room where it had emanated from. His father was confronting Superman; his posture extremely closed off (more due to anger than his usual brooding) and legs braced wide as if ready for an attack. Damian knew Superman was on the receiving end of a scathing glare and quickly strode over to Batman's side with one of his own. "You sent my eldest son, one with an extremely delicate mentality that seems to rely on socialization to maintain balance, into an infiltration mission that requires him to enter a solitary cover so deep that there is no chance for us to extricate him without him being killed."
Damian felt his lips peel back into a snarl at the thought, sliding his weapon from its sheathe to reveal a glowing neon-green blade. Superman groaned as the light fell onto his body, beginning to curl in on himself from the slow agonizing burn of Kryptonite. Damian waited for his father to object to his action, but the man's eyes only narrowed. Damian made sure to inch the weapon closer to the pained male with a slow, curling smile.
"He was the only one capable of the mission! Look, Nightwing won't be killed because the group he is infiltrating has been hunting for the kid ever since the Court fell." Damian growled as his father took a step forward and dragged Superman up by the collar, inciting a deep groan from the weakened man. Under his breath, almost low enough for Damian to miss the alien's words, "Not that the kid stays dead." A hand on Damian's shoulder was the only thing saving Superman from death…or, at the very least, extreme injury.
"Clark, you sent someone proven to be easily manipulated into a den full of masters of the art with no hope of rescue," Batman snarled into the other man's face. Before the weakened man could speak, Batman continued. "If you could share your reasoning, I might make Robin sheathe his weapon." That made Superman shudder bodily as he sagged closer to the floor, only held up by Batman now. Before he spoke, a pair of crimson and yellow blurs came into the room to interrupt.
Kid Flash rushed forward to grab the katana and steal its sheathe and dash to the other side of the room. His uncle made sure to get between the opposing parties with hands in the air.
"Whoa whoa, calm down and we can discuss this like adults, yeah? I will try to explain as best I can."
POV CHANGE TO RAPTOR
Raptor didn't see the cheerful little child acrobat his Mary had adored in this silent empty shell of a human at all. He looked away as the Gotham Talon literally ripped a few of his fellows apart as if they were paper-mache. Mary would be horrified at what these people had done to her little Robin. Raptor had seen some truly disturbed things and experienced the worst in mankind, but nothing topped this… This was why Raptor loathed the wealthy. All they did was prey on the lesser off for their own amusement and/or gain. Disgusting bastards. They had corrupted Mary's adorable naïve son into a corrupted caricature of humanity who only knew Death as a companion. One of the Talons was thrown into the wall besides Raptor, who jolted in surprise as he was distracted from his morbid thoughts.
Gravity dragged the male from the cracked wall slowly; a child picking at an interesting scab and trying to avoid the nipping pain kind of slow. The Talon didn't rise despite the low number of wounds on his body. Not even a twitch. Raptor tried and failed to hide his shudder at the wet, truthfully horrifying sounds coming from the arena. He lifted his head to watch the Parliament's reactions. He didn't have to hide his narrowed amber eyes this time; none of them were paying attention to the thief, transfixed on the macabre spectacle behind.
Many had left in quite the hurry, hands going over their masked mouths as if holding back vomit or mounting horror. Others had leaned forward in awe of Gotham's Gray Son. Raptor narrowed his eyes as the sounds behind him stopped. He turned slowly, suddenly apprehensive at what he would see.
Grayson was standing in a sea of blood and bodies. Some were repairing themselves with methodical precision. Many were as unmoving as the one near Raptor. None inside the Parliament's folds had known it was possible to kill a Talon without decapitation. Raptor certainly hadn't or he would've been long gone. Gotham was more corruptive than they had first thought if Grayson had learned that.
"Is this satisfactory?" He was drenched in blood and viscera with bright cerulean eyes. The color glinted golden with hidden meaning as Grayson licked some of the mess off his face absently, wiping his claws on one of the healing Talons. Raptor shuddered again and glanced at Suyolak, his weapon of choice. He clicked the claws together for a slight comfort as an Owl began congratulating the unhinged Gothamite.
Raptor couldn't forget the brightly smiling child of Mary Lloyd as a twisted, empty Cheshire grin appeared on the man's face before the Talon began to lick himself clean.