If you recognise it… I don't own it.
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Percy Jackson & Young Justice – Start
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Sometimes Nightwing thought his role as Second in Command of Young Justice would never get boring. He and Kaldur had organised two groups to approach two new young Superheroes. Neither of them seemed to have a mentor in place, so it only seemed sensible to extend the hand of friendship towards them. To offer training and help, should it be required.
It was a task they'd organised a couple of times before. Nightwing usually spent the time between sending the team off and them coming back reviewing the data he had collected on the Superhero. He also used the time to fully brief Aqualad, who did not have the time to collate the data himself (nor the resources).
However Kaldur had been unexpectedly called to a meeting with King Orin. So Nightwing was on his own for the meet and greet.
Not that he was too daunted. He'd done it before. With a lot less time to research. And a lot less information.
He'd also done it with a lot more.
He concentrated at first on the one from San Francisco. Unusually for a Superhero of recent times, he had not announced his chosen codename. Instead it had been assigned by the local Press.
Though the name did seem to fit. The Centurion.
Clearly dressed in Roman style armour.
Dick had a suspicion that whoever had coined the name first was a Doctor Who fan. The two outfits were eerily similar.
Except for the cloak. Instead of being the traditional bright red, it was a vivid purple, with what looked like some embroidery.
The rest of the fabric of the costume along with the plume was the traditional bright red, and the metal was a burnished gold.
He used a sword, but no shield. A Roman Gladius. Again gold in colour. Used, judging by the footage, with an incredibly high level of skill. Something that spoke to years of practice. Yet it was oddly stilted. There was something missing. However he couldn't quite place what it was. No doubt it would become more obvious if he saw more of the Centurion in action.
Apart from that Dick had reports of small electrical shocks, sometimes conducted by the sword. The full extent of the power was as yet unknown.
Nightwing switched his quick revision session to the second Superhero.
He had less information and images of this one.
Again the name was assigned by the media rather than announced. Though this time it was Gladiator.
Someone had been watching movies, Dick suspected. Particularly given as it wasn't even accurate. The helmet that the teen wore was Greek in design. Chalcidian according to Tim, which Dick wasn't going to argue with (though he was putting Greek Armour down on the ever increasing list of 'Random Things Tim Knows About That Are Sometimes Useful').
The rest of the armour seemed to be bronze and blue in colour. Though in one image there was a flash of purple. However that image was incredibly blurred and of poor quality (a rather shaky camera-phone).
The territory that the Superhero seemed to have claimed was New York. In particular Manhattan. To the best of Dick's research, the Gladiator never left the confines of that particular Borough.
Like the Centurion, the Gladiator utilised a sword. But he also used a round shield (Hoplon according to Tim).
There were fewer images as for some unknown reason all CCTV footage suffered from pixilation during any event with the Gladiator. He was also never seen arriving at or leaving any scene.
Nightwing was almost suspecting that the teen's Stealth-Hi-Bye to be equal to Batman's.
And that was only one of the odd things Dick was curious about. For some reason at most of the crime scenes the Gladiator had interfered with there was a puddle of water. Even indoors.
Of the two Heroes Dick was more curious about the Gladiator. Mainly because he knew less. He didn't know the real names of either Hero. He didn't know why they did what they did; though with the Centurion he suspected it was due to a heightened sense of duty and nobility – something in his stance was similar to Superman's.
As the Beta Team came through the Zeta Beam with the Centurion the similarity to Superman was even more obvious. It was in the way he walked, the way he stood. Despite the fact that Conner was Clark's clone, it was the Centurion who immediately made Dick think of Clark. Conner had the looks. The Centurion had the body language.
Although Nightwing couldn't see the Centurion's eyes due to the small domino mask underneath the helmet, he did take in a small distinctive scar on the teen's upper lip. It wasn't much, but Nightwing knew that he could use that scar to find a name, given enough time. Well, that along with the approximate height and weight.
Discretely, using the cameras scattered around, Nightwing took an image of the back of the purple cape. A quick scan of the image showed that it was embroidered predominately with gold peacock feathers. Though there were some other images scattered around. Nightwing would need longer to analyse it.
He turned and moved towards the Centurion and the Beta Team.
Just as he was about to get within a comfortable welcoming range, the Zeta Beam fired up again.
This time it was the Gamma Team, led by Robin, along with the Gladiator.
Nightwing quickly sized the Gladiator up. About the same height as the Centurion, but of a different build. Leaner.
There was no shield, but a sword hung from his hip, within easy reach and clearly the teen was accustomed to having it there.
However the images Nightwing had been working off, blurred pictures and sketches, were deceptive. Although the Gladiator wore armour of ancient design, it wasn't all he wore. Bronze greaves were fastened over blue jeans. Instead of a short sleeved tunic, a long sleeved blue t-shirt was underneath the breastplate and bracers.
It was as if someone had crossed a Greek soldier with a modern teenager. The trainers were modern, but the helmet with blue crest were completely Ancient Greek. There wasn't even a domino mask on underneath, but given the amount of face the helmet covered it wasn't really needed.
The breastplate had a single embossed horse on the left hand side, as if over the heart. It was the only decoration that Nightwing could see on the breastplate. Though the greaves and bracers had patterns on them.
The cape was blue, but with an approximately seven centimetre strip of vivid purple just above the bottom edge. Nightwing was surprised that it was the exact same colour as the Centurion's cape.
Thinking of which, the Beta Team and the Centurion had turned to face the newcomers.
The Gladiator and the Centurion met gazes and both of them froze.
"What are you doing here, Graecus?" The Centurion's slur in the last word could easily be detected.
"Could ask you the same, Roman." The Gladiator's retort was quick.
"I was invited."
"As was I."
"You dare wear purple?" The snarl was clearly audible.
"I have the same right as you, Praetor." The Gladiator countered.
"Counsellor."
"Consul."
"Kelp-Head."
"Legionnaire."
"Seaweed-Brain."
"Sparky."
"Half-Blood." Came after a pause.
"Oh, you're going there are you?" The Gladiator was riled up.
"Yes I am."
The two had been steadily approaching each other, the young Superheroes watching the insults flying as if it were a tennis match.
But none of them were quite sure if they should intervene, or even how to do so.
Robin flicked his eyes to Nightwing, seeking guidance. But the older hero merely shook his head a minute amount.
When the two were barely half a meter from each other, the Gladiator broke into a huge grin easily visible, even with the helmet.
"It's good to see you, cousin." He declared brightly.
"You too." The Centurion agreed, "How've you been?"
"Busy." He shrugged, "College you know?"
"Sort of. Taking a year out. Want to figure out where I want to go, before I try to go there. You at College though? How you coping?"
"Found a solution for half my book problem." The Gladiator grinned.
"Really? What?" The Centurion seemed excited.
"Got them in the language my brain's hardwired to." The Gladiator twisted two fingers pointed at his head.
"Oh great!" The Centurion threw his hands up, "That won't work for me. Yours at least is still around."
"How's your girlfriend?"
"Doing fine. Spending a bit of time with her father at the moment… Your Wise Girl?"
"Proving that there's no one alive who can match her."
"You seen Death-Breath recently?"
"Last week, why?"
"Can you send him my way? His sister wants to say hi."
"Sure, I'll point him at you if I see him." The Gladiator shrugged, "Probably my mum will first though. So I'll tell her."
"Oh, could I have another batch of her cookies? Those things are divine!"
"I'll see what I can do."
"Where have you been operating?"
"Claimed Manhattan. You?"
"Outer skirts of San Francisco. No one seemed to have them covered."
"Keeping an eye out for Campers. Good idea."
"You doing the same?"
"Where I can. Most of the time I'm dealing with other stuff. Besides all of yours follow the same line really. Mine come from everywhere. Easier and better to let Grover and his kind deal with it."
"True. Where'd you get your armour? You can see where mine came from, but yours is bespoke if I'm not missing my guess."
"Most of it I got from the Supreme Commander."
"Ah, Repair Boy." He nodded, "I might have to commission one myself. You said most?"
"Shield and Helmet are my brother's work. And Mr Spock would most likely be more than happy to help. You'll just have to provide the metal. Bronze is good on me, but you need Gold. Goes better with the Purple."
"Surprised you incorporated it." The Roman tilted his head to one side.
"I earned it." He shrugged, "How's Fai doing? And the Mistress of the Hounds?"
"Doing fine."
"Keeping Teddy Killer under control?"
"You know he's difficult. Too much power."
"Tried stealing his knives?"
"Tempted. Really tempted." The Centurion's honesty in that statement was clear to hear, "How is your brother doing? And his girl?"
"They aren't dating yet. I mean they're going to. He's just scared to ask. And you know she won't."
"True. Everything alright at Camp though? Nothing from Red?"
"Nothing. Anything from your Father's Wife?"
"Nothing. And I'm glad."
"Yeah. It's always a good thing when those two are quiet."
The teen superheroes were confused. Although Nightwing was mentally making a list of useful and relevant information that the two were inadvertently providing. He would use the list later to try and identify them.
Aqualad walked in and quickly took in the two new heroes. Instantly his eyes went wide and he sank to the floor in a kneeling position.
"My Prince." Aqualad intoned loud enough to interrupt the two boys.
Nightwing raised an eyebrow. Yes, Kaldur was always respectful to everyone…
But he'd never seen Kaldur react that respectfully to anyone. Not even Aquaman.
"Okay, is he talking to you or me?" The Centurion asked the Gladiator.
"Atlantean." The Gladiator sighed, "It's me. Arise, Kaldur'ahm. Besides I'm not a Prince. Illegitimate."
"That does not change the fact that you are our Prince." Kaldur replied, "I never thought that I would be honoured enough to meet you. That I would be worthy enough."
"Worthy?" The teen stepped forward, "Worthy? You are the most worthy of all. You are a true Hero. One who sacrificed parts of his very Soul for the safety of the World. Your task was not easy. But it was needed. I understand the burden that that carries. The difficulties of living with the decision. Even if it was not wholly yours. Arise, Kaldur'ahm. Arise, you do not need to kneel to me."
By this time the Gladiator had walked over to Kaldur's kneeling form. He knelt down himself and pulled Kaldur back to his feet.
"I am honoured your Highness." Kaldur murmured, but it still carried in the silence.
"He is not our Prince!" La'gaan protested, "He is not the son of our King!"
"No." Kaldur shook his head, "He is not the Son of King Orin, La'gaan. However he is the son of the King above King Orin."
"There is no King above King Orin." La'gaan countered, "That is a myth and a fairytale. A child's story. No one believes them anymore. No one believes in Him anymore."
"Then why do all the images have the same face?" Kaldur returned, "The same countenance that the young Prince also possesses?"
"Okay, this is unfair." The Centurion piped up, "How come you get to be a Prince? I rank you, technically."
"Atlantean." The Gladiator grinned, "Citizen of Atlantis. Lives in the Sea."
"Oh, that would make him one of yours."
"One of Dad's!" Came back immediately, "Not mine. Illegitimate remember? Half-Blood."
"You claim to be the son of a child's storybook character?" La'gaan sneered.
The Prince(?) flicked a hand almost negligently. Dirty and soapy water flew out of the kitchen sink and hit La'gaan directly in the face.
"Nice shot." The Roman grinned.
"Thanks bro."
Nightwing laughed at the look on La'gaan's face as he tried to spit out the soapy water and get it out of his eyes.
"Kaldur," Nightwing snorted, "Would you mind explaining?"
"I would have no objections," Kaldur nodded slightly, "Except I do not know who the cousin is."
"He is the son of my father's youngest brother."
"Hey!" The Roman protested
"It's true. Youngest in age. Highest ranking. Technically."
"Very well," Kaldur smiled, "Nightwing, I present the Son of Poseidon and the Son of Zeus."
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Don't quite know where this is going, but it's been fun so far.
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