one day you'll come down // Dick Grayson (knightflown) wrote,
one day you'll come down // Dick Grayson
knightflown

the waiting game

With the message sent — you've been compromised with Slade's nanomachines; come to <XX,YY,ZZ> to talk — there remained little to do but wait for the Titans to arrive. Dick had maintained typical subterfuge upon entering Robin's universe, despite the teen's assertion that Slade would know immediately. Whether not he would know was irrelevant. What was worrying him was whether or not he should have simply PINpointed right into the Titans Tower and sat there waiting. He didn't think they would take too kindly to that, but it would have cut through a lot of dithering and waiting around.

Like now.
Tags: scenes
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 35 comments
He'd come. He'd actually come.

Robin carefully manoeuvered himself through the shadows, getting closer to the waiting Nightwing. It had been so long since that first meeting in the Nexus, his first wild hopes of finding a way to free the Titans and himself. Now, Nightwing was finally making the move they'd considered and planned towards and all Robin could think of was how much he wished his older self hadn't come.

The location Nightwing had chosen to meet the Titans was ideal. Deserted, the shadows thrown by the remnants of the warehouse's stock providing cover enough should the Titans decide to jump to conclusions. Robin couldn't have chosen better.

This wasn't going to be good.

Sure that Nightwing hadn't brought back up, Robin stepped out of the shadows. "Nightwing," he said, tone low and urgent as he hailed his older self. He knew better than to think he could sneak up on himself. "The situation's been compromised."

wantsapprentice

October 25 2009, 06:01:51 UTC 7 years ago Edited:  October 25 2009, 13:50:31 UTC

He'd known. Of course, he'd known. There hadn't been a moment since he'd first discovered the Nexus that Slade hadn't expected Nightwing to come to Jump and attempt to interfere. As such, he'd taken special precautions, and now they were paying off.

The Titans communications had been compromised long ago so it didn't take much to alter a few things to his specifications. He'd made sure to send the Titans to a different location, complete with a regiment of his mechanical warriors to greet them.

As for Nightwing...he had something special planned for him. Sladebots were already moving into position, and Robin had been sent ahead to break the news.

Slade himself would not be present -- or at least, not yet.
Yes, PINpointing directly to the Tower would definitely have been better. With an internal sigh, Nightwing looked to Robin.

"And the fact you're here to tell me this...?" Not good. With a smooth, practiced movement, he unsheathed both the escrima sticks on his back, scanning his surroundings for signs of Slade, or other attackers.
Robin couldn't help a thin smile at Nightwing's movement. Somehow it made him feel better knowing that the other was prepared. "Had to," Robin said, coming to a halt a few feet away from his older self. "No other way -- your Pinpoint's no longer secure. The Titans never got that message ... but Slade did."

The metallic clicking can only be the slade-bots arriving and taking up formation. Robin pulls out his staff. "We're out of time."
The sigh became external. He closed his eyes behind the mask for just a second, turning the escrima sticks in his gloved hands, readying himself for onslaught. Though he wasn't familiar with the slade-bots, he had an impression of numbers. It seemed like all he did lately was face opponents in great numbers, whether they were ninjas or... whatever was going on right now.

"Think the Titans'll be okay?"
Numbers was right. Slade wasn't taking any chances in securing Nightwing. Robin might have taken some pride in the sheer number of his bots the former mercenary had assigned to this task. Instead, all he felt as he watched the growing shadow that was the bots was a sense of dread almost like -- resignation.

"They have to be," Robin said immediately, clipped tone indicating that he wasn't entertaining any speculation on that point -- he couldn't. "They've taken apart enough of Slade's robotic army to know how it works now."
"Good to know," Nightwing said softly, proud of his younger self's determination where the Titans were involved. "Well, I may be a beginner, but as you probably know, I learn quickly —"

The bots attacked en force, centering in Nightwing in a wave he leapt above, kicking off heads and smashing others with his escrima sticks. He kept them in each other's way by maneuvering around them with well-executed acrobatics, knocking bots into each other like dominoes.
The light from the street outside reflected off the metal surface of the bots, caught Robin's brief grin. "Thought you might," he said, spinning his bo-staff before turning to his own battle.

Long practice fighting the bots allowed Robin to beat down those within his range without looking as though he was even trying. The occasionally vicious kick was less necessity, more a way of venting his feelings. Unlike Nightwing, Robin knew the real battle was yet to begin.
A bo-staff, like Tim. It felt like his heart clenched a little; it seemed like it had been ages since he'd seen his little brother, and it was strange watching his younger self fight using techniques he'd seen Tim use before.

He didn't let it distract him from the fight at hand. A bo staff would have been more useful than his escrima sticks, but, you had to work with what you had, and he kept bashing bots as best he could.
The fight at hand was about to get a lot more interesting. He'd been watching all this time, monitoring the battles on both places. The Titans were doing rather well, all things considered. And his apprentice...of course, he would try to help his alternate. It was only to be expected. However, when it came down to it, Slade knew what would make him heel.

He waited until the bots were nearly destroyed, until there were only a few left, before he made his move. Using one of them to mask his approach, Slade appeared, much in the same fashion as the Bat himself would have, silent and deadly as he slammed his fist into Dick's jaw, his singular eye sharp and cold in the fading light.
Even knowing this was coming, it was still a shock. That moment when Slade had loomed up, indistinguishable from his robots for a second until the sharp crack of his connecting fist told otherwise -- Robin dodged out of the way of the last robot, landing lightly in the shadows behind Nightwing. This far it had been all about keeping his older self distracted. Now --

Robin pushed all concern for Nightwing aside. It was for the Titans, he reminded himself, readying himself for betrayal.
Just as the numbers had dwindled encouragingly, there he was. The blow hurt, but mentally, he was set ablaze — this is what he'd been waiting for all these weeks, to see, to finally fight the man behind all of this. He hadn't planned on doing it tonight, but here they were, and there would be no better time.

Flipping upright lightly, Nightwing feinted, then lunged into strike aimed at Slade's solar plexus. Fight with your head, he reminded himself. Not pure reaction, not pure calculation, but a quick balance.
He had planned it, known for weeks that this moment would come, and that it would be at the time and place of his choosing. Now, here they were, two masters of their respective trades about to have it out. Not that it was that simple; nothing ever was with Slade. However, as Nightwing was clearly eager to make his last stand, Slade would be more than happy to oblige him.

Sighting the feint, Slade caught Nightwing's wrist before aiming a jab with his elbow at Nightwing's side. There was armor there, light and durable, but even that couldn't blunt the blow if the right amount of force was applied.
Robin waited all but holding his breath. His older self knew what he was doing, that was sure. He was light, fast determined -- Robin felt a flash of pride, at least until Slade's sharp reaction reminded him that Slade knew what he was doing.

And he had another weapon at his disposal.

While Nightwing was still reeling from the blow Slade had just dealt him Robin struck at him from behind, a sharp kick intended to bring Nightwing back into Slade's reach.
Blocking the jab took enough of his attention that the kick from behind brought him directly into Slade's reach. One thing that remained similar universe to universe was the size difference between Nightwing and Slade Wilson, and with that, their differences in physical strength. In close was not the optimal place to be when fighting Deathstroke, but there was no going back. In fact, there was only going forward: he kept moving, riding the momentum into a tight roll to give him some space.
Slade doesn't look away from Nightwing, but his body language shifts in a manner Robin will recognize. They've practiced this before, fought together before, and though he doesn't need any assistance to bring Nightwing down, it shows that, in the end, his apprentice has the right priorities.

Calculating Nightwing's speed and trajectory, Slade lashed out violently with his foot. He isn't pulling and punches here, not does he intend to allow Nightwing to escape unscathed. He will pay for his interference in Slade's affairs.

One way or another.
Robin takes in the cue without even thinking about it; when Nightwing meets Slade's kick, Robin will be there, bringing his bo-staff down aimed squarely at his counterpart's shoulders.

Despite himself, despite the knowledge that he is only furthering Slade's plans, his hold on the Titans and on Robin, there is still that exhiliration in Robin's blood as the fight picks up. There is nothing like winning, and when you're working with Slade -- well.
Oof. "Now that was just unnecessary," Nightwing remarks as if the kick didn't hurt distractingly, twisting up into almost an one-handed handstand to avoid the bo staff, then bringing his leg back down on it in an attempt to knock it out of Robin's hands. But he's keeping his eyes on Slade, not his younger self. If he feels betrayed or surprised by Robin's apparent defection, he doesn't show it.
Slade notes the practiced maneuver, and he realizes he's looking at what Robin will become. Nightwing doesn't merely have talent; he's perfected it, and it only proves just how right he was in choosing Robin to be his apprentice.

His movements fluid, Slade doesn't pause, drawing his own bo staff this time. He's not going to banter, and he's not going to react. He's going to win, bringing the weapon around in a smooth, quick arc. He'll knock Nightwing off balance if he has to, and then?

It's going to hurt.
Nightwing's block does indeed jar Robin's grip on his staff, but with Nightwing's attention split between both his attackers, the movement lacks the forced needed to make him drop it. Robin takes a step back as Slade launches his attack, readjusting his hold on the staff, ready to move in with a follow-up attack as soon as Slade gives the signal.

He moves quickly, keeping pace with them both. "Talking is unnecessary." In other words, concentrate, Nightwing. Robin's worried.

knightflown

November 14 2009, 02:04:38 UTC 7 years ago Edited:  November 14 2009, 02:08:06 UTC

With both of his opponents wielding bo staffs, he can't afford to try for space anymore. Having failed to dislodge Robin's staff, he dive rolls under Slade's, coming up into a handstand kick with both legs snapping out powerfully extended at the older man's sternum. He's depending on his proximity to Slade to prevent Robin from attacking again quite so soon.
Considering the fact that he just charged (more or less), he's pretty close when Nightwing flips back up. It's a solid hit, one that winds him briefly and knocks him back.

Still, he twists his body enough to land on his palm, on his feet again in moments as he rebounds with a powerful roundhouse kick to Nightwing's face.
And those few moments that Slade is down, Nightwing has Robin to deal with. It's pretty evident by now that Robin was holding back while fighting the slade-bots, and Slade's training is evident in the way he throws himself with almost ruthless abandon into the attack, keeping Nightwing occupied and ducking out of the way just as Slade launches back into the fray.

Twisting means that Slade only clips his jaw, but that's enough to send him spinning. Time for new tactics. He sees you there, little brother self, and you're getting two batarangs: one that's easy to dodge and one that is intended to miss, but arc back around and whang you upside the head.

As for Mr. Slade, Nightwing manages to snag his escrima sticks that he dropped at some point (honest!), and awaits attack.
He sees the hit Robin takes but doesn't concern himself with it; the boy is resilient, something he's made sure of during their training together. In the meantime, he occupies himself with the business at hand, whipping out one of his own toys -- a 'Slade-o-rang', for all intents and purposes (yes, it has an 'S' on it, and yes, it's like a batarang). Trusting Robin to move in time, he throws it at Nightwing, expecting him to dodge so it will embed itself in a tree. Moments after the impact, however, the device attached will explode.

In the midst of the brief confusion, he'll attack, getting up close and personal with Nightwing once more as he lashes out with his staff.

flipping_bird

7 years ago

knightflown

7 years ago

wantsapprentice

7 years ago

flipping_bird

7 years ago

knightflown

7 years ago

wantsapprentice

7 years ago

flipping_bird

7 years ago

knightflown

7 years ago

wantsapprentice

7 years ago

flipping_bird

7 years ago