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Post by damian on Feb 18, 2013 14:23:40 GMT -5
Rain littered the streets and pounded the pavement, the big fat drops of water deterring most of the citizens of Gotham from lingering on the street corners, most, but not all were tucked safely, in the warmth of their homes. The dark clouds over head blocking out the night light of the full moon and the stars. This darkness and cold dreary weather didn’t deter everyone least of all the young hero known as Robin. This young boy relished in the weather, it seemed to match his darkening mood. If this young Robin got anything from the Batman it was his ability to brood and sulk so well, when things didn’t go his way.
His gray hood pulled up over his head and low over his eyes, it helped keep the rain from chilling him. He took a slow breath and attempted to still his raging emotions. Those emotions turned inside him and coiled like a snake in the pit of his stomach, as his gloved covered hands curled into fists. His blue eyes covered by his domino mask as he glared down at the deserted streets below him, time was getting away from him, as the hours were slowly ticking away, seemed to blur together and time was lost to him as he stood over the head of the statue of a gargoyle that he perched on, lost in his thoughts, his anger that festered inside him, until all he wanted, needed to do was make someone hurt like he was, to experience his frustration, to let everything come forth as violently as possible.
As his anger built, his adrenaline started to rise and with it his heart rate. His fingers clasped the grappling hook so hard that it was thankfully enforced materials and able to handle the tough treatment. He raised his body, his movements tense and stiff, not fluid and controlled like normal. The mic in his ear chimed with small noise before Pennyworth’s voice crackled to life and told him about the disturbance at the docks, a new adolescent gang was breaking into the docks and causing a ruckus.
Damian couldn’t quite explain why hearing the sound of the old man irked him, it would seem that since his disgrace at the hands of Wonder Girl, his father had taken to being absent more so then usual. It angered him that he wasn’t the one speaking with him. Alfred seemed to know that something was amiss with Master Damian but he wasn’t able to get anything out of the boy and his father wasn’t any better. He thought he was giving the boy the space he needed, but Alfred had other theories.
With a leap he threw himself out and away from the tall bulk of the building and out into the streets below him, as he pressed the trigger and swung towards another building away from him. He made his way towards the docks on the Far East side of Gotham.
Robin landed in the shadows his lithe body hidden, as he peered around the quiet area that held large cargo crates and docked large shipping vassals. Things were quiet far to quiet to have the said disturbance that Pennyworth had mentioned was going on. He frowned, his youthful features for a moment loosing his anger and becoming puzzled as he considered his did another sweep of the docks landscape on foot. Pennyworth must be getting senile, sending me out here, when there is nothing here!
[/color] He sneered in contempt as he pressed two fingers to his ear intending to tell good ol’ Pennyworth he’d just wasted his time sending him out here, when he stilled his whole body tensing up as a voice rose up from the darkness that was a little ways a head of him. His fingers fell from the ear piece and he didn’t call in, his blue, hidden eyes trained on the man who was coming from the shadows. His voice sending a chill up the young boy’s spine, as Robin stood his ground and faced the large man, unable to say anything as the bane had his tongue. [/blockquote] TAG: Bane
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Post by Bane on Feb 18, 2013 14:48:14 GMT -5
There was much time spent in Gotham observing the situation and much time spent delving out his plans. One thing was for certain, certain pieces had to be played certain ways. For Richard, it was making him doubt his own abilities. For Timothy, it was making him become divided between his friends and saving Bruce. Bane learned from firsthand experience with Timothy that his weakness was always not in himself, but his need to save others. His need to repent for his father's demise. Bane had a play in that little game himself once upon a time. For Damian however, his weakness was the easiest of all: Doubt in others. His inability to trust and pay attention to others was easy to exploit. And that was what he was here for.
"It seems Talia was right: He finds you as nothing more than a replacement. You will never be his son, only his legacy."
Bane let the words sink in for a good while as he arose to reveal himself. Momentarily after that, a small group of unarmed thugs came out, carrying a bunch of kids. They tried to ambush the docks: Big mistake. This was one of Bane's docks and as such, they were disposed of swiftly and lethally as the men tossed the carcasses in front of them into a pile, paying no mind to Damian, they knew that with Bane there, they had nothing to worry about.
"It's funny though. She always said you were his, despite the circumstances. Especially considering how much more you are like myself than him, no?"
Bane was playing a collection of mental games with the child. He knew that the child couldn't put up a fight against him if he tried and Bane knew eventually, he would try. That was part of the plan after all. All Bane had to do was be passive and not be on the offensive and everything would play out. Meanwhile, the mercenaries proceeded to pour gasoline on the bodies. Even if it wouldn't burn for long, disposing the ability to identify the bodies was all a part of their training so it came naturally for them.
"Which begs the question. Who do you think would do a better job as a father, someone who actually wants a son or someone manufactured purely for Ra's Al Ghul and The Detective to have ascend to their legacy when they finally hang it up? I'd personally choose the former. Like you, I understand what it's like to be born into a specific 'destiny' or as one would put it, for a single use. My use, was to suffer the crimes of my father. Tell me Damian, are you suffering the crimes of your family as well? Or better yet, here you are. here and now. Sent out to a location they knew was my territory and yet, they send you alone. And they don't plan to come to your aid. This is their first test for you to see if you're worthy."
The single flick of a match and the bodies before them lit up brilliantly like a bonfire. It would only burn for a few minutes at the most but, it would get the job done and if not, they'd repeat. while they waited, their position created a circle of sorts. Damian wouldn't be able to leave without fighting his way out, or they made it seem that way. The moment Damian threw the first punch would be when everything would fall into place as Bane continued to sow seeds into the boy's mind.
"I mean, it doesn't matter if you live or die either child. If death did happen to come upon you, you'd just be brought back from the Lazarus Pit and then, they'd have you study a little harder until you're next.....test."
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Post by damian on Feb 18, 2013 17:14:01 GMT -5
The young Damian Wayne watched the man known as Bane come out of the shadows. His lips pressed firmly together to keep anything he’d immediately wanted to say from spilling out as he narrowed his sharp blue eyes, the domino mask and white optical lenses making him look oh so intimidating. Bane’s words had his body instinctively tensing up and the anger was so clearly all over his face. His hands curled at his sides in tight, little fists. His anger so easy to flare to life, it was easy to see how much rage, how much volatile anger he seemed to hold inside such a small little body.
That’s not true! I mean more to him than that, I am not just his legacy…
[/color] That train of thought was put to rest quickly as his eyes widened and looked at the men who brought out the teens who couldn’t be much older then himself, those were the kids Alfred had been talking about and he couldn’t think of a plan quick enough as he’d merely stood there and watched the men break the necks of the poor, frightened children. They had been weak, they’d deserved the fate they’d found. Dying was what happened to the weak, they died, and they had to realize that no one would save them, if they couldn’t save themselves. He’d taken a step forward but stopped once the necks had been snapped, the bodies thrown in a pile. His eyes traveling to Bane as he spoke, but his eyes kept monitoring the other players in this deadly game. “I’m not your son Bane,” the words came without much confidence, a small sign that even though his voice was sure, and full of anger, that he was getting to him, that his words, his speculations were getting to him. Robin was still young, still so easily manipulated when you pressed the right buttons, and his were so easy to find. As the match was thrown, his eyes flickered to the growing flame before moving back toward Bane as he forced himself to ignore the smell of burning flesh and the flames that had started to rise higher and begin to cover the bodies. Damian forced himself to pay attention to what continued to come from the large monster of a man’s mouth. He visible ground his teeth together at the words that came next, saying that they had lead him to this location on purpose and that if something happened to here, that no one would look for him, that this was test, a test he would fail, was he that expendable? Did he not matter to anyone? His heart beat sped up and his eyes slightly watered behind his mask at the emotions that hit him so strongly in the gut, it felt like he couldn’t breath. It hurt more then he ever thought he’d allow anything to hurt him. He stood tall, even as his suffered this emotional pain. “You’re lying!” the denial came fast and sharp and full that that rage. When Damian was upset, he lashed out with anger as that was all he understood, all even now that he felt he had some control over. [/blockquote]
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Post by Bane on Feb 18, 2013 23:02:54 GMT -5
"Who are you trying to convince, me.....or yourself?"
Bane let slither out of his lips venomously towards the youngest of the flock. Bane fully aware of the game he was playing and it's rules. Damian most likely wasn't and that's the way Bane wished to keep it. With a crack of his neck, he grinned but also, that crack was a very specific signal as couple of the thugs slung the ashen, charred remains on their shoulders and walked out, leaving only five left. Their main objective secretly however was to turn on a signal jammer in the building. A specific one that didn't created any signs of one, a stealth jammer. Simply put, if the birdy tried to call anyone, no-one would know and without the obvious signs of jamming, he'd be made to believe he was being ignored. It was all apart of the play.
"Let's be honest with each other.....me and you, have very much in common, you remind me of myself when I was younger. Even down to the....emotional details. Like myself then, you possessed my most dangerous flaw: Fear. I can smell it off you un poco....rank and foul like burning flesh...you can smell it too, can't you? The scent of your own fear and uncertainty."
Bane said pointedly, using the exact aroma in the air for a very specific reason. He chuckled lightly to himself at the subtle tones he'd use to excite his plan. If it went off the way he think it would, the child would forsake the title of Robin and go off on his own. Into a world he wasn't ready for, and would certainly be less ready for once Bane forged his war upon Gotham. Most importantly, this blow would be the most vicious towards Bruce himself, all the little details that made the biggest difference.
"But, you say I'm lying....let us review the facts, shall we? We know that you're Abuelo.....Ra's Al Ghul....is more than capable and willing to....alter your mother's womb during pregnancy. In the event that it wasn't from our...natural incident. Otherwise, why do you suspect he lets you remain alive, un poco? After all, he wouldn't dare let the man who refused the mantle of the League and his dreams simply father a child with his daughter now, would he? No, he'd take...extra steps....to ensure that you were more....suitable to be his heir. You can even ask your mother and she'll admit on more than one occasion that Ra's....has offered her to me as a reward of being his heir. But you must think about this single fact: What reason would Talia give you to Bruce? I've known the woman long enough to know she loved you with all her heart, probably more than Bruce. And yet, she gave you away, why? I'll let you figure that one out."
Bane whispered sweet poisons into the child's heart. Bane had information about Damian's livelihood and past that the boy himself did not and that Bruce would never inform him of. Of the projects, the plans, the operations of The League. The only other with that information was Cassandra, and she wasn't very....talkative.
"When Ra's would learn of her betrayal to let The Detective foul her womb, he'd kill you both without a thought. You know this as well as I do. Here's the big kicker however. Of all of the child projects of the League, not only are you the least successful but you are also the most shameful. You're mental state is barely above the Mad Dog's and you're combat expertise and lethality doesn't remotely compare to him, nor Cassandra....actually now that I think of it, it doesn't even compare to your adopted Brothers now, does it? Jason is the most dangerous, Richard is the most charismatic and Timothy is the most keen. So what does that make you then? The most broken? But, all that can be remedied child. After all, I'd wish for my son to succeed so I'm going to share with you a secret The Dark Knight would never share. One I thought I'd never even share. It's the secret to killing fear, something Crane's been after forever and yet, never found. But I have. You know this is truth. I can teach you how to be better than all of them, even Daddy himself."
Bane let the very last things he said slide off his tongue with a very subtle acid. He'd get in the boy's head simply by toying with him then taunting him with what he wanted the most: To not be treated like a child. All the while overwhelming him with information. One way or another, the child would give him what he needed and strike a vital blow to the spirit of Bruce Wayne.
"Do you wish to know the secret to kill your fear....or are you weak like your Daddy?"
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Post by damian on Feb 19, 2013 12:50:29 GMT -5
Damian’s white glowing eyes and narrowed to mere slits at the information that was afraid, he wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t afraid of anything and his enemy was going to try to tell him otherwise he was sorely mistaken. Although that didn’t mean that those words didn’t put a little more doubt in his mind that he was afraid of something, as much as he tried to deny it, to hide it. The frown seemed to be an almost permanent feature on his young face, that an anger, it would seem. The boy was far too negative for a young kid his age, but could you blame him? Was it that surprising given his background and who his family was and what they all wanted from him? Everyone wanted something, each to pull Damian in two very different directions, each one counteracted the other and was on extreme to another, his mother Talia was his father’s shadow, she did little without his say so, and she trained him to be an assassin, to one day rule the very world, his Father Bruce Wayne, the Batman wanted to protect from people like that, his little city Gotham. Bruce was a hero; he was supposed to protect people, to save them.
“How?”
The single word passed him lips even as young Robin did not want to admit that he had any fears, not even to himself, when his fears were so obvious to others, if they looked hard enough, if they poked and prodded just a little bit deeper, they could find what it was that made him tick the way he did.
He raised his fingers and pressed his index and middle finger to com-link in his ear, he wasn’t going to listen to Bane anymore, he was lying. He was just trying to mess with him, that and nothing more. As he was met with a strange silence, not a static white noise signifying a broken link, the link was working, just being jammed, and that little bit was something he wasn’t aware of. “Robin to the cave, I have a situation here.” As he let the words hang, he let his fingers drift away from the ear piece allowing voices to come through, but he was met with a stone cold silence that only succeeded to solidify what Bane had told him, when Bane had told him he was out here alone and no one, not a soul would be coming to his aide.
As the words about his mother and the possibility about his Grandfather having altered his mothers womb with him inside and the other things he said, it all would make sense, he’d known enough about what Batman had on his files to find out more about Ra’s al Ghul then his mother had probably wanted him to know. He knew that it wasn’t that hard to believe, at least no really that it could happen. What Bane said about Ra’s offering his mother as some sort of prized steed to Bane didn’t surprise him and he realized with a fleeting breath that his mother might have submitted to such a thing. He found it harder to breath then he realized he would, this new information made it seem all the more possible, that it was indeed real, that it would explain Bruce’s distaste for him and his distance and how the boy was last in line in terms of a relationship with Bruce, every other member of this family came first and if he was his real son, he was still coming up last, that shouldn’t be the case, but it was.
The double edged words of his mother throwing him away stung more then he would admit, it was as though a knife had cut through his heart, despite his allegiances right now, he held his mother in quite high regard, she always had told him she loved him growing up. This betray was hard to take, but Bane wasn’t done, he wasn’t done shoving salt in his open wounds.
Bane put down his training, his abilities, he put down himself and spilled things Damian only thought about to himself, that the others were better then him, somehow everyone seemed to be so much more to Bruce, that they were a family and he was merely the unwanted outsider, Batman was merely putting up with him. As the words of a way to kill his fear, to be better then the others, to be better then everyone else to succeed he greedily latched on to it, he wanted to be better, to be acceptable. His blue eyes hidden behind the mask looked at Bane with a look a keen to wanting.
“How? Tell me the secret,” he said his voice taking on a far more lower, weaker tone then most would ever hear uttered from young Damian’s lips.
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Post by Bane on Feb 19, 2013 16:57:43 GMT -5
"Mi Hijo, it's understandable how you don't realize your own fears. This is something that even our dear.....friend....Crane hasn't learned about fear. And interestingly enough, it's the most important part. And it's simple really."
Bane said as with a single motion of his head, his thugs backed off out of hearing distance. They knew better than to eavesdrop on information like this. Simply because they'd die upon learning it. As they motioned off and the others returned, Bane simply cracked his neck as he stepped closer to Damian.
"You want to know why your fear is so easy to discern, un poco? It's because of your anger child. The big secret about fear is that, anger is fear. War and peace.....love and hate.....darkness and light....Fear and Anger are merely two sides of the same coin, a metaphor that Dent would appreciate I'm sure. However, to put it simply, where there is one, the other is right behind. For fear and anger are merely two reactions to the same thing: the perceived notion that you are not in control of the situation and lacking the strength to do something about it."
Bane whispered towards Damian with a lethal tone. Not to Damian himself but to his spirit. Bane knew what the child wanted and he would give it to him. After all, nothing would hurt Bruce knowing his child wished to be more like Bane than himself. That would be a blow to his manhood larger than anyone could deliver to him, even Talia. Bane then smiled towards Damian.
"To kill your fear, you must reach into your soul and kill your anger. Kill you're need to immediately have things your and realize that the first thing you have to do to control your life, is control yourself. Take our recent encounter as an example. If you were to look at this from a third person perspective, who appears to be in control of the situation on purely body language alone? Control yourself Mi Hijo, or others will do it for you. Fear and attachment are the weaknesses other exploit against you child. Others like Talia. Like Ra's. Like good ole daddy himself."
And others like Bane. He didn't say that, he didn't need to. He subtly informed Damian he was in control and not Damian. He penned the information to him directly through subtle uses of information.
"Anger and fear share the same vulnerability of being manipulated by outside forces. I'm sure you're adopted brothers have utilized this against you in sparring matches, no? You meditate on all anger and fear, you focus on it. And then, you strangle it. Now, for other matters, you are here on a test. It is a test you cannot pass nor fail, as passing on one end makes you fail the other. Put simply, you can fail yourself but pass their end of it. Or you can pass their end of it, and throw away a piece of yourself child. And the test is simple."
Bane said as he then turned towards his thugs. He knew that against Damian, they wouldn't stand a chance. Any being trained by the League could kill with ease, even a child. The children were usually deadlier actually if you did the math. Bane looked towards them as they weren't paying attention.
"These men killed children with their bare hands. Do they deserve to die or be apprehended? That is your test. Kill or capture. The choice is yours on whether you wish to pass or fail however, as consolation when this is done, go to Ricton Ave. Find a brick building and knock on the walls to the tune of "The wheels on the bus." And then, say "Raigar." I'll be watching."
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Post by damian on Feb 20, 2013 13:09:01 GMT -5
The more that was said, the more Robin found himself frustrated; at himself and how he’d let this situation control him, instead of the other way around. He’d allowed someone else, he’d allowed Bane to take control of the situation and play on his weakness, to play him. He was angry and the anger boiled in his blood and heated his body temperature as he stood with his hands curled at his side, green gloved fisted at his sides the material taking the brunt of his anger as he did little more then move from his spot and breath every so often as he listened to the words that Bane spoke.
At the mention of the test, his gaze sauntered over to the thugs that were behind Bane some ways away from the two, giving them the illusion of privacy, who ever these men were they were well trained in the way of Bane’s physical cues and were reacting accordingly. He sized up the number of thugs that he would be pitted against, whether he choose to apprehend them, apprehend them was what Bruce had been trying instill in him, to make him see that they couldn’t sink to their level, that they were better than the thugs, that they could be the ones the city of Gotham looked up too.
On the other hand he could go the other route. He could take them out for the murders they had committed, he could kill them in cold blood and watch the way the blood spilled on his hands and he could forgo his attempted lessons of his Father and fall to his Mother’s side of things, killing was his first instinct, he’d been trained, breed for this and this was what it got him?
It didn’t seem to get him anywhere, but at odds with himself, as he was pulled in one direction and the other, he could pass in the terms of Talia al Ghul, and fail in the terms of the Batman, the man known as Bruce Wayne, who he was no longer sure if the man was truly his father.
Or he could pass in the terms of the Batman, he could forgo his first instincts and show that he’d gotten better, that he was more then an al Ghul, and that would mean failing his mother, who he had for a long time knew that she loved him, that she would not forsake him, but now it would seem as Bane had mentioned she had given him away as if he meant very little to her. He’d pointed out that he was the least successful, that he wasn’t acceptable, he was the most shameful.
Why should I keep pretending? Why should I continue to practice the ideas of a man who doesn’t want me?
[/color] He wasn’t going to let this continue to let himself be controlled anymore, no! He would do what he wanted for once in his life and he wanted to cause pain, whether the men standing behind Bane died or lived it was of no concern to him, if they lived he’d capture them, if they died they died. No more games, no more! They were doing this test his way. He was in charge now! His fingers moved to his ear and the little ear piece communicator was taken out and dropped to the ground and stomped with a satisfying crunch under a green combat boot with red laces. His movements were interesting to watch, how the thirteen year old went from standing straight and unmoving, to suddenly in motion, his body movements flowing with sure steps and a lanky sort of destructive grace. His arms curled at his waist along his lower back and he produced two batrangs and threw them with accurate precision at the two of the ten thugs that were at the outer edge a little ways away from the others. Each metal point was thrown with enough deadly force that the bat shaped piece of metal pierced their throats, going through one end and sticking out the back severing their spinal columns, if not already forcing them to bleed to death, a strangled gurgling sound coming from the two bodies as they fell in an unceremonious heap. He paid Bane no attention as he’d passed him, his gaze only for the thugs that were left alive, he vaulted over the closest one, his hands grabbing the man’s shirt collar as he went over him and using his momentum and strength to bring the man crashing to the ground, his body arched at an odd angle as the man’s skull collided with the ground and he was unconscious. That was three down and seven to go. As one man tried to get the upper hand as Damian was straightening up from his crouched stance, he jabbed two fingers, his index and middle finger upwards directly into the man’s unprotected point between the nose and the forehead just where the bones don’t completely fuse together. The move was done too hard, too fast and without holding back, the man dropped dead without knowing fully what had hit him. Six more. The next two thugs wound up knocked out from a spin kick with a booted foot breaking the bone in their jaws. As he let his anger out through his rash, quick movements, it was clear he wasn’t holding back, he seemed to be in a way fighting more than just Bane’s pesky thugs, but rather himself, his heritage, the legacies that weighted so heavily on young Damian’s shoulders. As he stood in the middle of the bodies, his body tired, bloody and his breath coming fast and hard as he felt his adrenaline start to wean and recede. He glanced around and silently counted the outcome, he seemed to be at war with himself it would seem, five of the thugs were dead and their blood covered some of his body, the other five were merely unconscious, injured but alive. Blue eyes moved to look at Bane as he wondered if he had turned to watch him in action, and he found himself unsure if he wanted the man to see this, this whatever it was. Damian was so clearly trying to appease both sides and there was no clear victor, it left you to wonder, who when everything was cast away, the title of Robin, the League of Assassins. Who is the real Damian? It had yet to be seen, and it was safe to assume the young boy didn’t even know himself. [/blockquote]
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Post by Bane on Feb 21, 2013 12:58:22 GMT -5
Things as they were were going smoothly. Then again, with an easy mark it was hard not to have a plan move flawlessly. Even down to the men he selected, who were taking a little off the top. Therefore, each of the ten were justifiable to be left to the peril of dealing with the child. He chuckled to himself as the sounds of war stopped while the rain also began to slow down. He turned to observe the results and grinned.
"You are unaware of this but there was a third....test. By not bothering with passing the first two, you passed the third with....flying colors as you Americans would put it. The test of self: To put aside what others try and do what you feel is right child. And that, is the path to greatness. After all, it is your own path to make, something neither of them want from you."
The plain statement was more than informative for Damian. That was the intent after all, Bane was going to simply feed the child the information that he knew would nudge the child out of the grasps of those that tried to forge him. He took a candid step towards Damian. It was a specific step, one designed to get the child's attention focused back on him.
"You must understand un poco, that the reason legends exist is because they make their own decisions. Free of consequence. You had a brief moment of that, of just doing what you felt was needed, and it felt good, didn't it? It felt honorable. You had a brief moment where you put aside your anger and fear and was completely in control of yourself: You followed your own code. Their is a reason why your Abuelo is the man he is, why Bruce is The Batman. Why Superman is who he is and why I am feared, respected, and rarely underestimated, and for a brief moment, you possessed what was needed to be that as well: Honor. A legend isn't one because of power, otherwise people would idolize Black Adam over Superman. The Joker over Batman. It's the ability to let no-one else break you."
Bane took another careful step towards the child, as he did so the rain slowed even further, almost to barely a misting. The clouds began to part slightly and for a moment, it seemed as if nature was foreshadowing the opposite of reality: that things were getting better.
"Make no mistake about it, you can learn from others and be flexible as needed. However, possessing and acting upon you're own code of honor and never faltering is what makes one a legend. It's what makes someone great. And it's something none of your other siblings have acquired yet, but I will teach you how. The largest flaw of them is they feel they should enforce their code on others....you know this firsthand of course. But, if you develop and stay true to your own code of honor, they'd have no choice but to respect you. You'd grow into a man and you'd make them......proud."
The last word was chosen extremely specifically to be used at that exact time and for a specific purpose of exciting the child into taking Bane's path to greatness. It was the only path that remained after all. The exact time he said it, the sun began to slowly reveal itself. An unintentional timing but it again symbolized the opposite of reality as Bane took another step towards the child.
"And unlike them, I will not carve you into their carbon copy of a Bat or a Demon. I will give you the tools needed to become the man you wish to be. Teach you things no-one else knows and let you use it as you see fit. I'd want my son to have every tool possible to be the best and rise above everything else. Make no mistake about it, they will try to discourage this. They will lie to you about the events of tonight. Bruce will scold you for killing others, Talia will attempt to say I'm not to be trusted, not that I haven't earned that from her. They will deny setting this up. I however, will not lie to you child."
Feed the child all the information he already knows, reinforce the outcome. Bane was well aware that if he just continued to reinforce what was going to happen and make sure those things happen, the child would be in his palm. Reinforce that Bane was the one to trust and they were not. And then, to mold the child to grow past them and become more like himself. He's steal Bruce's own son away from him and nothing would damage him more than that. Nothing.
"They will also try to silence you. Denounce you're opinion. Say things like, your being naive, or your too young to know better or that they are doing it for your own good. All these lies to trap you in their game. I however am the opposite. Every opinion and thought and question you have I wish to hear. You can ask me anything and I will speak to you like the man you are, and not just a child."
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Post by damian on Feb 24, 2013 15:05:43 GMT -5
Damian was a first dismayed and the anger that swelled up inside him, had harsh words about to spill from his lips for failing the test and he’d opened his mouth to let fly his frustration at having failed. Damian Wayne didn’t fail; he could not fail at anything he did. He knew what to expect and what was expected of him, failing was nothing he did not do ever.
At the words that he passed an unmentioned third test, his mouth closed and he said nothing for a moment longer, taking pride in the fact that he’d passed the test, a test of self, and that little bit of knowledge that he’d passed, done something not merely for Talia, his mother, or Bruce, his…father, or was he? It didn’t matter, for once he’d done something, something on his own, and he hadn’t followed anyone’s wants or desires, only his own.
The anger left the boy in a rush, as his body lost the tension in his muscles and he grinned smugly to himself for a moment, before the sound of sloshing mud had the boy’s optical lenses trained on Bane once more, his features loose the triumph that lingered on his face, and he became impassive once more, his attention focused solely on Bane, as he paid the rain no mind.
“But you broke the Batman…” he let the words hang there, frowning to himself as he realized how immature that had truly sounded and Bane had done a great deal of harm to his father, but he hadn’t been able to break Bruce, or well he had, and his father had disappeared to rest, to heal, and then he’d come back, he wasn’t the same, but there wasn’t much that you could do, could you blame him? He did not but that didn’t mean that he liked the outcome, it had shown him, driven it home that Bruce Wayne, that he was immortal and he was getting older, and he could die, that it was possible… “I will not lose as Batman has” came his stubborn next words.
He curled his hand into a fist and defiantly moved to remove the domino mask from his face and let it fall to the mud soaked ground, the green mask stained red with the fresh blood that still stained his gloves and the white of the eye protectors, the optical lens smeared with red. Damian looked at Bane with blue eyes the same color as billionaire Bruce Wayne and there was no denying the resemblance that was there, but Damian was young, impressionable and longing to belong, to be loved and to have a father, it wasn’t hard to twist the truth into something he could believe, as it was what he craved and it wasn’t hard to press just the right buttons.
As Bane continued to speak, the lanky, yet muscular youth took a step towards him, a sneer coating his lips at the idea that he would be denounced that his opinion, his questions, his demand for answers would get such a reaction, but there was some small part that hoped Bane was wrong, that they would treat him with respect and honor and give him what he asked for, when all it was, was answers to things he had every right to know. He knew he’d have to see, to see if that was the case.
He took another step closer to Bane and looked him in the eye as he took a few more steps, throwing caution to the wind. He wanted to test him, to test if he would do as he asked. “If you say you’ll teach me things no one else will, then teach me something, teach me one of your fighting moves,” he challenged his light blue eyes looking into the masked face of the venom using Bane.
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Post by Bane on Feb 25, 2013 0:02:11 GMT -5
Not that Bane didn't already know the child's identity. Of all the Gotham Vigilante types, being the son of Batman made the guessing pool very small. That and Bane personally knew both of his parents. He had his information and reports but, none of it mattered. The child unmasked himself. He showed Bane something he probably hadn't shown anyone in a long time: Trust. The smallest fragment of it. And then, the child presented a challenge for him. To teach him his own fighting style. Bane spent his whole life mastering it, making it his own. And no other soul knew it, studied it, or tried to get into it. And yet, it could compare with the best in the world and, only his counterpart The Dark Knight ever tried to develop methods to counter it. He killed Judomaster with it, broke Batman's back with it. And survived beatings against more specialized, experienced fighters. Bane wasn't arrogant to claim world's best martial artist. No, he just claimed he was the best human specimen, perfectly crafted and honed: The perfect warrior amongst men. And now, the child was peeking into this fountain of knowledge.
"First rule, above all else. All martial prowess I teach to anyone, which you are the only one, is demonstration proactive. This simply means this: If you wish to learn it, you must feel it demonstrated on yourself unless it's only lethal. I will teach you two of my techniques Mi Hijo, defensive and offensive. As they are both a package deal of sorts amongst many you will learn. But, you understand the first rule, yes?"
The stagnant sea air began to create a slight mist around them as he stepped towards the child in a calm manner, the air between them obviously one of a different light. And the sun began to break through as it rose slowly over the horizon of the bay, shining a glistening reflection off the harbor waves. Bane then looked out towards it for a moment.
"Second rule, all techniques are allowed to be used at any time. But, they are not allowed to be named, bragged about, praised, explained, talked about or talked negatively about. Placing names on words. Kick, punch, death blow, submission hold. All hold possession. Possession weakens a fighter. Techniques aren't to be cataloged and memorized, they are meant to be extensions of the mind, body and spirit. Giving them pet names, bragging about yours being better or flashier or explaining it motion by motion is something the weak do to pretend to be strong or something those with weak wills do as an act of pity for the defenseless. Doing as such pollutes the mind and thus, the body and spirit as well."
Bane calmly iterated to the child as he grasped his own chin and pondered for a moment at what he had before him. He had this child eating out of his hand, Bane only had two rules but in this instance, he could make up a third and the boy would just believe it. And the thought gave him an interesting idea.
"Third rule. Weakness, like strength, exist together. One is needed to allow the other to exist. After all, how can one have strength if there is no weakness to compare it to. Weakness is simply another....polluting word....for a lack in strength. So, think of changing your vocabulary from 'My flaws' 'My weaknesses' to 'Where I have room to grow' or 'My lesser strengths." And here is why. A warrior must acknowledge his strengths, both of a higher level and a lesser. And for me to educate you, you must also announce them to me to your current knowledge where you feel you are capable and where you feel you need improvement."
The world is a wicked place and now, Bane presented the child the chance to explain everything Bane could use against him for now and later. He'd trick the child into thinking it was a necessary ordeal. And more importantly, he knew that the child saying out loud would be the hardest part. To confront his pride head on.
"When you've finished announcing this, we'll begin you're lesson quite simply with a proactive demonstration. And I will break my own rule, simply because it would be impossible to teach it to you otherwise until you've grown more accustomed to my training methods. So when you finish, deliver a closed fist strike using any hand, from any angle or height, to any location of my body. Your first technique you will learn is how to utilize your body as a weapon to disable your opponent without throwing any strikes, blocking or dodging any blows or any grappling. I promise not to....permanently injure you. Can't promise much aside from that."
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