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Open: catch-all.

CHARACTERS: Dick Grayson & open
LOCATION: Dick's room, and around the ship
WARNINGS: Reference to child abuse of various sorts may occur in threads.
SUMMARY: Dick's up and about during the month of July.
NOTES: There are a few openings, but Dick should be very easy to poke at around anywhere that you can want him to be. If you want me to set up a specific starter, PM or let me know on plurk:

kikibug13.

Dick had been in Comms until the last possible moment, so he'd actually listened to Commander Shepard's final transmission live, trying to get through to them, but - there had been just too much interference. He tried getting through to her almost first thing after waking up, to be met with that silence, and...

He hadn't even talked to her, and it wasn't the first time he'd run into death. But, other than Jason disappearing, it was the first time here, so he started out the new month here somewhat subdued. Well, compared to his usual bounce, at least.

But he was still - himself. Curious, active, helpful. Poking his nose into anything that catches his attention.

Robin.

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When he made the offer to Hanna, to come hang out in his rooms, it was absolutely unconditional. Anywhere else on the ship, the woman who'd just arrived could find her without warning.

In here? No chance.

Of course, Dick wasn't in his rooms all the time, but he did spend a bit of time there, to take his notes, practice a bit on his own, and, oh, on occasion - to sleep.

But he wasn't sleeping, now, waiting for his new friend to show up.

And of course, Dick hadn't bothered to notify his roommate of the impending visitor (but then, his roommate hadn't really bothered to inform Dick that he would be getting a roommate in the first place, so perhaps it was only fair). Probably because he knew that if Damian had any sort of proper warning he would throw some sort of Damian sized fit, either from his space being invaded by a potential stranger, or from the chance of Dick's time and attention being devoted to someone that wasn't him, which was obviously unacceptable.

What this meant for the duo, however, was that Damian, curled up on the bed and scanning the networks stoically for any signs of trouble on the ship- whether from Marissa or someone else -was unaware that Dick's impending visitor was actually not a stranger at all. And neither did Dick, for that matter, seeing as how Damian had never bothered to mention the altercation in the locker room to the older boy, or the resulting bruise across his ribs.

Thoughtlessly, Damian presses his free hand to his chest against the still faintly lingering ache. He was mildly impressed by Hanna in the short amount of time that they had faced off against each other. She had a hidden strength that Damian wouldn't mind putting to the test again at a later date.

Perhaps he should remember to look her up again with an invitation to spar...

Edited 2014-07-10 22:20 (UTC)

Hanna had waited awhile before making her way to the room, a faint limp in her step from where Marissa's heel had caught her ankle, not going right away in case someone was following her. And she made sure that no one was before she made her way there, making sure to keep out of trouble.

It wasn't hard to find the room. Hanna's memory was good, better than good really and another part of her genetic alteration most likely. So after an hour or so, there was a knock at the door, Hanna at least knowing well enough not to just let herself in but she did keep glancing along the halls while she waited.

Dick took a moment to release the safeties (because habits were habits), but when he did open the door, he greeted Hanna with a wide smile.

"Hey! Come on in. You okay? Thirsty? Hungry? I'd greet you with some upbeat music, but I suspect Damian's swords might get dangerously close to me if I tried." He let her in, almost bouncing, and turned to safely lock the door behind hem, "I'll show you how to open them without triggering stuff in a bit, but first things first. This is my brother, Damian, over there on the bed. Damian, this is Hanna!"

... and then he turned around again, and his eyebrows shot far above he rim of his shades, the chatter drying up in a breath. O-kaaay...

Damian didn't bother to look up from his comm when Dick started babbling, just corrected him calmly when the older boy brought up swords by saying, "I wouldn't need the sword." and attempted to steadfastly ignore the intrusion into their room, though his teeth were gritted.

But when Dick actually went that extra step and bothered to introduced Damian to his visitor, Damian's head finally rose from his work and turned to stare quietly at Hanna for a moment before nodding once at her in acknowledgement. "We've met." He said shortly, and then to Hanna. "Is your ankle still bothering you?"

The greeting definitely wasn't expected, having someone seem genuinely excited for her to be somewhere wasn't something Hanna was used to. Sophie had always been pleased with her being close by but nothing like this.

"I'm alright." Hanna had made sure to grab something to eat quick when she'd been making sure she wasn't followed. She hadn't stayed in one place long though.

Oh. Hanna's cheeks flushed faintly in embarrassment at the introduction and nodded in return before taking a breath.

"Your brother broke up a fight between me and Marissa." She explained quickly before shaking her head. "And it's only bruised, she caught it with the hell of her shoe. I hardly feel it anymore."

He gave another look, between the two of them. Whatever had happened, they weren't fighting now, which was a good sign. He relaxed, a bit.

"No hostilities? Good to see." It was almost a joke, at Damian. And, well, if Hanna wasn't raising Damian's hackles, after a past violence, well.

Marissa clearly had no idea what she was talking about.

"Grab a seat, Hanna. Damian..." Yeah, Dick narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Did you get any damage from the fight?"

'Hackles', as if Damian was an animal. Although to be fair to Dick, Damian did rather tend to judge new people in precisely that sort of way. He wasn't really one for conversation, you see. He bristled a bit at Dick's half of a joke, and then hunched further over his communicator at the probing question that followed.

"There's nothing to worry about." He grumbled, every inch of him a sullen child, which really only every came out around Grayson. "The woman ran off as soon as I intervened." Both of these statements were entirely true. The woman had ran off, and a bit of bruising around his chest was absolutely nothing to worry about-- he hadn't even cracked any ribs, his breathing wasn't obstructed any.

He was fine.

If they hadn't talked after Marissa had bolted, it would probably be a much less friendly introduction and Hanna wouldn't have stuck around as long as she had so far. She was sticking around though, for as long as she was welcome, and smiled faintly before sitting down.

And if Damian wasn't going to mention the blow to his chest, Hanna certainly wasn't going to mention it. He was the one that had more reason to be concerned than she did.

Dick stared at Damian, then. Then shook his head, settling (for now) cross-legged on the floor, easy and relaxed except not quite, too tight with attention and maybe a little worry.

Over both of them.

"Right. So the suggestion of maybe sometimes having Hanna spar with us isn't totally out of line, then?"

Give them all something to look forward to, before he started with... more questions.

"No..." Damian said slowly, narrowing his eyes at Dick over the edge of his comm, using it perhaps as a bit of a shield between himself and his older brother, though he would never admit to as much.

"I had actually been intending to invite her myself." Which was proof well enough that Damian considered her a semi worthy opponent. And should only give Dick further reason to wonder at Damian's well being, because Damian was typically unlikely to take someone seriously unless they were capable of injuring him.

He continued, casting a wry look over at Hanna, "If only to make sure she was aware of which places were best for sparring."

Hanna looked relaxed but, anyone that knew her father and how he'd raised her (incredibly unlikely), would know that she isn't. Think on your feet, he had taught her, even when sleeping. Adapt or die.

"I wouldn't mind. I haven't really had anyone that would be able to spar with me." Damian had made something of an impression on her too though. Not many people were really interested in another go.

His comment almost earned a petulant 'she started it' but she held back. "It was worth it if only to see Marissa with a black eye."

Dick didn't even try to stifle the cackle, at that.

"Then it was well done! And, yeah, good. You might be interested in a few things that we use. Shuriken. Bolas. Bolas area really helpful."

Grapple guns just weren't as much good, here, but they had many options. Options that were discreet and easy to carry around without raising anyone's suspicion, like a gun or a bow, or even a knife, might.

Rather than cackling like a loon like his brother, Damian merely arched an eyebrow in Hanna's direction in a way that might have been considered bemused. "She didn't wear it very well, did she?" He said, as if that was what cast the greatest pall on his impression of the older woman. Because really, if you couldn't take a punch, what good were you to Damian?

He nodded with Dick in agreement after a moment though. "Bolas are good if you're more concerned with delaying someone, especially if you honestly would rather avoid confrontations with her. And they're simple enough to make, as well."

"She didn't." It was hard not to laugh a little, and smile, at their agreement. Or as close to it as she was likely to ever get.

It took her a moment though, thinking back on her lessons with her father, to remember was bolas were. Things in her encyclopedia and when he taught her spanish.

"That might be a good choice. I don't want to have to fight her."

Dick grinned. That was a good sound, rare and good, and he nodded.

"I pretty much specialize in nonlethal fighting against people who're bigger, faster, and crazier than I am. He," thumb pointed at Damian, "is working on the nonlethal part, but fighting against people who're bigger, faster, and crazier just goes with the job description.

"So I think we can all learn from each other."

It wasn't fully sweetness and light, of course. Robin being Robin meant that it would involve watching her, too, the way Batman'd taught him a long time ago - except with Dick, it wasn't a sign of mistrust. Just making sure.

Because her words in the beginning had been a warning, and Dick suspect that if she did get to hurt somebody innocent, she'd take it harder than any punishment that she might be given. So, prevention was better.

"That settled, and other than, you know, her, what've you been up to?"

'Working on the lethal part' was perhaps the gentlest way Damian had ever heard of referring to someone's past experience in an assassin guild, but considering his exposure to Grayson both here and back home in Gotham, it shouldn't have come to as much a surprise for him as it had.

He supposed in a way though he was still growing used to the previous (or current, technically speaking) Robin's ways, and back home Grayson had seemed to prefer to avoiding bringing up Damian's mother, and Damian hadn't found himself minding that at all. Here in space, however, with his costume stowed away safely out of sight for now, he had found himself more and more often bringing up his mother's side of the family.

Such as now, however vague the reference had been.

Damian did raise an eyebrow at Dick's words nonetheless though. Because they weren't entirely accurate. "I'm perfectly capable of not killing people." He pointed out. "What I'm working on is how much damage I'm allowed to inflict without it being considered 'excessive'. And while he didn't bother to bring his hands up to make the necessary quotation marks, they were clear in his words all the same.

See, Dick didn't believe in hiding from one's past. Or present. You couldn't get better if you ignored mistakes and failures and things that were done to you. But you couldn't get better if things were constantly held against you, either. So he acknowledged facts, but didn't let them color his perception of who the person was now, or who they could be. So, yes, his acknowledgments were gentle, and would keep on being so until and unless he had reasons to believe Damian had made a different choice.

And would keep making it.

Plus, about Talia... well, this Dick had a little less bad history with with her. And information was always important.

He listened, now, and nodded. "Yeah. It's - it's about actions and consequences, still. Usually, in most situations - note that I say most, there are always exceptions - it's plenty enough to disable somebody. Take them out of the fight and sort out blame and punishment later. Or, you know, have the authorities sort those out. Our job - as B's been telling it to me, at least - isn't to punish people.

"It's to stop them from committing a crime. There's a difference, you know? Because, some notable individuals aside, a lot of the people who commit crimes have no other choice, or think they have no other choice. Yeah, there's always the whackos who want to do bad things. But most of them? Most of them're not like that. So if you break somebody's jaw and they've gotta wear prosthesis for the rest of their lives, that'll probably turn them back to crime - either because of the medical bills, or for revenge, or for some other reason. If you just knock them out? Then they can serve their sentence and, maybe, they can get back to a normal life. Not hating you. Not trying to destroy your life in turn."

Dick shrugged. "That's the goons, the bosses... are a different subject. And it's the optimistic look on things, I'll grant you. But it's the principle I try to stick to. People are people. Most of them do deserve another chance."

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Open: catch-all.

Dick's room: Hanna and Damian

so no black eye just a rib shot (would have pinged you but plurk is a butt rn)

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