gourmetburgers | [dickva] love in a hopeless place ;(

[dickva] love in a hopeless place ;(

[ The Magistrate held Gotham City in a tighter chokehold than any before it. Where Gotham has seen corruption swell in the ranks of its police before, ameliorated only by the interventions of Batman in his early career, the city has seen the entrenchment of a more dedicated police state in recent years. The gerrymandering towards the interests of politicians acting as puppets for the Magistrate, in a more clandestine and concerted effort than even the Court of Owls had ever mounted, divided the city. Swayed public opinion to favor and rationalize the excessive force of the police, who then could dispense gratuitous violence upon Gotham's citizens with impunity. Every little thing was micromanaged, the slightest mistake punished with the severity of a Special Tribunal.

This couldn't have happened at a worse time. Justice League personnel were either missing or scattered, mired in turmoils of their own. Though Bruce had a plan in motion and was ready to execute it against the Magistrate, he had suddenly vanished. As time passed, it was becoming increasingly plausible to just presume that Batman was dead. But Bruce has pulled a disappearing act before, lost in time thanks to Darkseid's omega beam, only to restore himself to the present. Dick wants to believe Bruce is still out there, biding his time with some miracle he's preparing-- something to put an end to the Magistrate's impositions of martial law. Though the Magistrate represents a larger tide of authoritarian power moves across the globe, Dick sees a chance here to flip hegemony's chessboard.

Because he can't wait for Bruce. He can't hold out for something not guaranteed.

Nightwing has to act.

And his first measure was to found an insurgency, comprised of allies and former enemies alike. Gone now were the days of mysteries, conspiracies, wars for criminal capital. The stuff that Gotham's heroes tended to fight had become a bygone luxury in hindsight, a luxury compared to the violent surveillance of the Magistrate. Nightwing has had to spread himself thin, fighting the Magistrate's forces at every step. Protecting independent subversives from being targeted in their homes, protecting innocent people from being attacked out on the streets... it's everything Dick has ever done, with greater intensity. A political urgency.

Without the Justice League to call upon, Dick has had to expand his network of contacts. Pull from the world of heroes he grew up in, whose ideas raised him as much as Bruce's have. Clark had the Legion of Superheroes to count on, at times. Hal, the might of the Green Lantern Corps. Bruce, the Batmen of All Nations. And while Dick had the Titans, who were themselves spread thin across all corners of the globe, he had the Outsiders here in Gotham. He had everyone who's ever been impacted by him and Bruce enough to join their war on crime.

And now, he has Overwatch.

There's no denying that the Magistrate was getting extra firepower from Talon, supplying the regime with organic and omnic muscle alike. The escalation this brought forth warranted Dick's own, bringing him to his multi-monitored terminal in Arkham Asylum, whose inner chambers he's turned into his own secret headquarters. ]

Connect me to Winston, Tim. It's time.

[ In a text message on the screen, Tim assents. Winston appears on screen, ready to address Dick. ]

I know you have some action ongoing in Gibraltar.

But for the mission ahead, I'm gonna need some extra firepower. Cover for what I plan to do in the shadows.

Anybody on standby?

[ Upon receiving confirmation, Dick receives coordinates. He knows who's being sent his way, and where. Amidst the chaos of everything necessitating this situation... it's who he hoped it would be. But part of him has to bury that hope, for now, the joy of anticipation so at odds with his task.

The coordinates Winston sent correspond to a rendezvous point on top of Oracle's former clocktower. ]

Thanks, Winston. I'll debrief when I reach the rendezvous point.

[ Best not to communicate everything here. Dick knows better than to be too candid on encrypted channels.

With that, Dick gears up. Puts on a reinforced version of his typical Nightwing ensemble, all to protect him when facing down more cybernetic threats. Clandestinely, he exits the asylum and grapples high, keen to avoid detection by the Magistrate's searchlights. He anticipates reaching the clock tower in five minutes, the speed and fluidity of his body utterly compelled by the importance of his mission. Everyone has their place, active throughout Gotham to make the Magistrate fight a war on all fronts.

As leader, Dick has his place. Making sure everything goes according to plan. He just needs a little help to do it.

Because if Bruce isn't here to produce a miracle, Dick will. ]

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[ The thing about being fast even with a limited supply of power for her mecha rabbit... she has to wait for others to catch up. It was one of the more painful moments of this whole heroics gig, where her mind was able to actually think instead of being on a constant go, go, go. It was the same with gaming for her – if she had a moment to try and recollect herself in a single player game, she overthinks. Should she take the route on the left? Maybe go back and save? Orrrr go in guns blazing? She isn't an analytical technician, but she's ambitious and sometimes that gets her in trouble.

There wasn't any word for a while, so she was ready to truthfully leave the location she had been designated to meet with him at, as if something was calling for her to just check. Just provide back-up. Part of her was angry at herself. She knows better. Even if her militant training was limited in scope, was less of a focus after the celebrity aspect came in... she remembers that she has 'orders'. That can be the difference between a mission success or a mission fail. She can practically hear the annoying Snake? Snake? SNAAAAAAAKE? Metal Gear Solid soundbyte in her head at the thought of compromising their mission.

Meka takes one step forward by the time a familiar voice is heard behind her. A lumbering hop to the side and the cockpit shield comes down and she's punching the air in annoyance. Half-heartedly, actually. ]

'Bout time. Was ready to hunt you down and give you a stern talking to, mister.

[ Sarcasm in her voice, but there's always something light there. Even when she was 'mad', she had that almost-childish tone. For now, it was out of relief instead of some stubborn anger or bitterness.

She sits back down into her seat, the tight fit of both of the costumed heroes was not lost on her but she had a job to do. Sorry, Dick, she was all business too now she got a slap back to reality. Leaning forward in the seat a bit, she enters the coordinates needed to their next destination. Not too far off and the map in front of her makes her smile a bit. It was about 6 minutes if they go at a steady pace, and she does intend to milk it. ]

You mean, that makes me a biiiiiiiig fat target, huh? I like a challenge, though! [ She cuts him off, already clasping down the pre-flight bar in her machine before the unit lifts off once again. If they wanted to keep themselves covered, they have to go high. The clouds were thin over the water – how she cuts across the open expanse instead to save any targeting that may happen from spare rogue agents monitoring the rooftops... The detour was enough, though. Lets Meka find the perfect altitude to disguise and hide. Well, as much as a giant mecha rabbit could be disguised. She had an answer ready: to say proudly that she's handled worse and got into detail about some outrageous encounter back home. Meka's been scraped and rebuilt multiple times. No worries, right? It was hyperconfidence, but it was needed. It keeps things where they need to be. An optimistic view that matched the speed of their flight – right to the next goal they set together. For most of their time, she follows his lead and is here for support but when he says her name ... she twists her hips enough to look to him, her grip tightening onto her joysticks. D.Va was put on the back-burner enough for Hana to act with a tilt of her head and eyes clenched. A forced smile, crinkles on her nose and warm on those smudged-cheeks of hers. ] A-OK! Like old times, right? You got a fancy new suit, I have a fancy new suit. New tricks for both of us, but same attitude.

[ Her eyes open and she looks out in front of her again, keeping Meka steady. ]

I can't keep up with you sometimes, WTF, tell me how that works?

[ At least she knows how to deflect, keep things light. It'd be a headache to open new wounds that never properly healed. She wants to still tell him Meka'll manage... that they'll make it through, but the words fail to leave her lips. ]

[ “Stern talking to,” she says. Before Dick starts talking plans, that earns a chuckle out of him. ]

You sure I still don’t need one?

[ There’s a mischievous smirk, a glimmer of what Hana’s seen countless times. Back before the Magistrate, when Dick didn’t feel the need to be as guarded. When the Nightwing suit wasn’t so densely armored, but instead something finer. Sleeker. Simpler. Despite what the world has come to, there might be enough in Dick to remind Hana of what was. And perhaps, what still can be.

Something nearing this notion fills Dick’s mind, but he has to perish the thought to actually talk shop. Despite what he feels - what he’s always felt - and how much of it he might start to entertain... the mission still comes first. There’s a more imminent need, after all, to go over the details while there’s time. To continue fulfilling his duty to Gotham as Nightwing. But then the thought comes back, of what to make of this once the mission is over. The thought keeps coming back, no matter how much he tries to bury it. Now that he and Hana have crossed paths, and the longer she remains beside him, closer now than they’ve ever been in a long time... how can he not imagine the future?

So he compromises with himself. Asks Hana how she’s doing as both a personal and professional courtesy. “Same attitude,” huh? ]

This whole thing demands a lot from us both. Good to know you’ve got more than enough in you to rise to the occasion.

Again, not that there was ever any doubt.

[ Now he’s basically letting her know that he knows he was heard, earlier. Back when he was recovering Electrocutioner.

But he also knows she’s deflecting. It’s what he does too, and it’s what he’s been doing. So he lets it slide, knowing better than to jeopardize the mission by continuing to rock the boat... or Meka, rather.

Besides, he needs a chance to scoff in amusement at Hana’s remark. Her flippant manner of speaking here, he finds funny, but he knows it’s also coming from a more serious place. That of worry. ]

Do you mean my stunt earlier, saving Firefly? Everything else before and after?

Fallen into old habits, I guess. I’ve been leading a team that works in silence, in darkness.

The cues are different. The way we communicate, more subtle. Not quite the same energy I used to bring leading the Titans.

But in expanding our ranks I’ve had more engagements like this. The conflict has been escalating.

I need you because the stakes have expanded beyond subterfuge. I need someone who’ll help me get to where I want to be, for my team.

The question is, will you take me there? Are you okay doing that?

[ It just came out this way, what he’s saying. Like he wants something more genuine out of her, despite how much importance he places in keeping up appearances. He’s so at odds with himself about this, so conflicted that it’s frustrating... but he won’t know what to do with himself if he goes the night saying nothing: if he lets caution guide him to the point that small talk and cursory exchanges are all that pass between them.

He sighs, though, looking away in shame. He knows he’s undermining the mission by merely gesturing at old wounds. He seems to hope there’s a way to backpedal from this in six minutes, so the rest of the night can go smoothly, but— ]

...Is it even fair for me to ask?

Depends on how the next six minutes go.

[ The slyness in her voice... it was muffled by the bite of her bottom lip. Old habits, focus. She doesn't complicate things. She was trained not to. Missions were missions, duties were duties. From the serious kind, battling the worst the world has to offer or the more...casual like attending movie premiers prior to the shitshow going on now – she sacrifices. And she doesn't complain one bit for it.

It was all in the hope for something better. That the building blocks of sacrifice, loneliness, and tall expectations would be worth something. If Nightwing was out of the picture... who would help lead those silently working to restore the city? D.Va accepted the mission because it makes sense... but deep down, maybe Hana wanted to see what changed. If he changed. There was a weight she didn't feel when they toed what could have been – his responsibility had been nearly bred into him by the time they met. Now? She feels it too. She won't admit it, instead the smile was forced and she doesn't give him much to work with at first.

But... little by little, she comes undone.

She doesn't respond to his faith in her, only a small smirk. Her eyes don't look for answers to him, doesn't linger at all. She needed to get him to their next point and this? It was idle chit-chat at this point. She knows it is. Even with the clouds obscuring them, that was clear enough. ]

Helloooo, I mean all of it! You have to let me help you out. Somewhat squishy birdboy versus a giant friggin' mech? I have more defense than you!

[ She makes it sound simple, but there's some territorial tone to her voice. Protective in a sense, but... she rounds it off clearly: ]

If you need my help, take it. That's my objective... and you can't – ugh!

[ She takes a moment to nudge him with the elbow roughly out of frustration. ]

You can't do that again, OK? Team. We are a team. [ She emphasizes in her native tongue, to make him listen. To make him parse it together. He wasn't reckless, but she overcompensates. She uses that as a buffer to handle his questions. To give her time to think before she says something stupid. ] I would not be here if it was not fair. I know what to expect with you.

[ Even among the gripes, there was honesty. Whether he takes it as disappointment, longing, excitement, pride... her words were scattered among the unsaid and the what-ifs. ]

I can ask something of you, you know. If you think you are being unfair. We can even the playing field - 1 to 1.

[ God knows how many times he's noticed her do that, biting the bottom of her lip. More often than not in excitement, to the point of becoming a trait that Dick would adore... but that was the past. Now, it's clear sign of trepidation. Anxiety. Dick's grown all too used to diving headlong into danger, whether in matters of exacting justice, or in matters of the heart. Believe it or not, he knows what he's doing right now, knows what he might jeopardize just by creating this situation with Hana, and yet--he takes this calculated risk. Can he not be more than what he is, thanks to his duties? Can they not be more?

But he's a hero. That's who he's always been, and always will be. Nightwing first, Dick Grayson second.

He just thinks he's given enough to Nightwing in the last fight. He's fulfilling his duty to Gotham City, and will continue to in the next fight. So in the meantime, can Dick Grayson fulfill his duty to Hana Song... knowing full well he relieved himself from it long ago? He wants to face this, and all its consequences. The consequences of things left unsaid, a life unlived. He seems to want to walk the tightrope between this and the mission, even though - understandably - this conversation must come as a shock to Hana.

Because a tightrope's all he's ever known. A suspension over danger, the ever perilous possibility of the fall. For better or worse, you really can't take the circus out of the boy.

Hearing Hana's words, his lip quivers slightly. Not from embarrassment, or resentment, but from the understanding of where she's coming from. The concern for his safety. The implicit lack of trust he demonstrates by taking on so much alone, despite literally inviting her here. The last thing he wants is to leave Hana more brokenhearted than ever by dying stupidly, even if it seems like the Magistrate has driven him to carry a deathwish. ]

No. You're right. We have bigger fish to fry-- I won't fight you on this.

Because I do trust you. I trust you enough to be my eyes and ears. To be my shield.

I just need to see myself the way you see me. The way you knew me.

[ He delivers a pained sigh, coming to an understanding of what he wants. Or better yet, what he needs. ]

I brought you here because I need to be reminded of the hero that I was.

The hero that was lost in the haze of all this conflict. All this death.

This city needs that... so it needs you.

[ And that's the last of his piece, of everything so far that he's been wishing to say to Hana, but simply couldn't. He's far from offended by her remarks, by her show of concern. She's definitely not the first person to chide him for self-destructive tendencies, for escalating just how much he can put himself through only to barely survive. The fight with Firefly and Electrocutioner doesn't even represent how closely he's come to dying in recent months, let alone years. A little facetiously, in his mind, he's relieved Hana only showed up now - she wouldn't be happy to learn what she missed. ]

So go ahead, Hana. Even the playing field. Only fair when I'm speaking to an equal.

[ While he walks a tightrope, Hana was left in the crowd. She doesn't join him, not yet. Not when she feels the risk too great. The thrill, God knows she was for it, but there was something restraining her. Something that keeps D.Va going when Hana wanted desperately to climb – to pretend like things could be like they were.

She doesn't know all that he had been up to. Doesn't know his struggles, his triumphs, didn't even know their favorite boba place had been a victim of the strife in the world. Hana would feel stupid to not text him, a phantom desire to send him a party invite on last generation's gaming console if she even had time. Things like that, when broken apart seemed like they were no big deal... but – together they completed a puzzle of two people on two different paths going to the same destination.

It frustrates her. She trusts him, knows he won't take on more than he could chew but – the risk... that tightrope he walks? It was horrifying looking up to it. ]

Even if you were who you were when.... – before all of this, I am not. Parts of you are the same, you still leap before looking and you still sport the slick black and blue gear but – the world doesn't need what was. What was... it's gone. We have to be better, ya?

[ Three minutes feels like an eternity, a halfway mark between point A and point B. Both in the geographical sense and the path they find themselves on now together. He wants validation, to have an image upheld by people that matter – but Hana... she speaks a little bit more bluntly, with maybe a bit of sadness. There was honesty that she had withheld with D.Va, a duality that put duty above all else. It still does. As Meka continues on, there was no escaping into the fire to avoid lingering looks, thumps of their hearts, or worries founded in old history. Hana leans forward, flicking a few buttons to bring the lights of Meka to a dull, almost-gone glow. It was darkness now, helping their commitment to stealth. ]

If you ask things of me, I can do the same to you. So... [ The tension was there, bubbling at her stomach and despite the veil of her own insecurities and frustrations being pulled back – ] I ask of you to find us a new boba place, OK? No excuses. Mission start: now.

Failure to prepare is preparing to fail. That was me once.

But despite all my planning, I let things get out of hand. Like I want to let the fire grow bigger before I put it all out... just so I can feel more important.

[ The Magistrate's success just has a way of belittling everything he's done. Everything Bruce's done. What good was everything Batman started, everything Nightwing continued, only for Gotham to unravel at the hands of some mysterious dictator? What good was every life saved only for many more to be lost under the iron grip of the Magistrate? Dick doesn't just walk a tightrope over the increasing possibility of death, of failure. He walks a tightrope over his own despair, like nothing he's ever felt since the night his parents were murdered.

Hana may watch from below, but she's more than just an audience. Because of her intervention, she's become his safety net. ]

Time to embrace who I am. Not just the past, but the present. That's the only way forward, the only way...

[ He stops for a moment, a longing glance directed at Hana as she activates the Meka's stealth mode. ]

...to be better.

[ They both have their duties. The way she naturally navigates the Meka's ins and outs, treating the machine like second nature... it's astonishing. A testament to her talent and dedication. Her sense of purpose. Something that has never truly faltered against the might of the Gwishin, and that certainly won't falter against the Magistrate.

Dick needs her more than she'll ever know, he realizes. If he didn't take a chance on her, inviting her to Gotham on this night, where would he be? How else would he put himself in the line of fire, risking the loss of his insurgency's leader? He's been telling himself that Tim is more than ready to take his place, more than ready to run operations and make all the necessary choices... but that's selfish. Thinking he can simply die and just place this burden on someone else, like the fact of his death would mean nothing except his freedom from this life.

He owes Tim an apology. That's the first thing he plans to do after his time with Hana. Make things right for everyone else, strengthen the bonds of the insurgency in its totality. Be the leader everyone's counting on. The leader they deserve. ]

Pretty sure they're not all demolished, despite the look of things. Let's mark a new boba place as a side quest.

[ That's him trying to remind her he's played some games in his time. He'd get his ass handed to him if she took the other controller, but it's only the two of them keeping score. ]

Cloud cover? Good. Take us past the main tower. I see Deadshot and Komodo stationed on both sides, need to catch them from behind.

But leave them to me. See the troopers on the roadway? Keep 'em busy.

Focus on distracting them, not subduing.

I'll join you after I take down the marksmen... but I'll call if I need help.

Any questions?

[ He's starting to sound like everything he once was. Leader of the Titans. Heir apparent to Batman's legacy. Everything he still is, really, and more.

So as soon as Hana opens the cockpit yet again, Dick leaps out it. But it's Nightwing who descends from the clouds to grapple onto the nearest ledge of the main tower. It's Nightwing who catches Komodo's first arrow in his hand, and charges forward to parry more with his sticks. He's gonna stick to the plan, follow it to the tee, and make changes as needed.

And every step of the way, he's gonna make sure D.Va knows. Because this isn't about infiltrating a hideout, going on stakeout, or solving a mystery from the shadows. He's not gonna fight expecting her to be like another Bat. He's gonna fight expecting her to be D.Va as all hell.

Because this is war. And Nightwing must adapt to the changing tides if he hopes to out of it alive. If he hopes to take everyone with him. ]

When will you like the person you are now, D– ...Nightwing?

[ It was a question that lingers. The more he speaks, the more he laments old times that were unable to be returned... and idolizes the person he needs to be. Hana didn't want to leave a question that harsh to hold the air. To stop the conversation. Her tone melts, it was almost pity – but then again... maybe she just beat him to the punch? They, for as different as they handled their stress or wanted more of themselves, were similar enough.

This city was not one of hope. Gotham still ripe with reputation of the insane, of the hopeless but here there was someone wanting to change that. He wants to embrace who he is, but she wants him to like himself. Maybe, he needed the okay to forgive his downside and truly do what he wanted to do: be better. ]

OK, I will hold you to it. [ "It" being vague, for once being condensed and not some grand trolly remark. Did she mean his promises or did she mean the boba place? Who knows. How could she even start this conversation when there was more pressing matters? Hana's GPS gives them the head up they were approaching the coordinates laid out, the cockpit opened even with the wind smacking them right in the face. Occupational hazard. ] No. Go and hurry back.

[ She makes him listen, makes him realize that she didn't need to lay into him to take it easy when she herself knew nothing of it. The concern was there, but she overspeaks and speaks with passion as much as good intention.

When he's gone and her cockpit was closed, she pulls her diagnostic up. A few moments to look over how Meka was handling. Her boosters limited down to 60%, her matrix shield working at a lower absorption rate – the only thing still intact were the rockets she purposely hasn't used. Respect for the city, respect for Nightwing – she had not yet decided to use them to minimize damage.

Hana tips down to offer the prettiest distraction possible. No shots were fired on her end, she sends troops ducking into the ground for cover. Up into the clouds again, then down to another strike. It was the safest thing she could do right now, causing a commotion and... honestly, trolling the troops with a snicker that Nightwing can pick up. ]

Awwwww, c'mon, noobs! Scared of a girlllll?

[ Hana asked a great person. An important one. But in the small time they had left, Dick knew he could do it little justice without enough thought. So for the time being, he didn't bury it, but he set it aside for later. Knew it was important enough to come back to, because it was important to Hana. It was with this understanding that he leaped off, Nightwing taking on Komodo and Deadshot above, while D.Va aggros the Talon troopers below.

Though the two aren't necessarily fighting side by side, here, they find in tandem, comprising a single operation. Without D.Va to attract the stray gunfire of the troopers, Nightwing would have too much on his plate fending off Komodo's archery and Deadshot's sniping. Where Nightwing and Komodo are in close range to each other, occupying the same side of the tower, Deadshot watches from the opposite side across the roadaway.

Seeking cover in protrusions of the tower's infrastructure, Nightwing parries blows as Komodo enters close range and employs his own deadly martial arts. Nightwing also has to be conscious of the way both marksmen seek to monopolize his attention, hoping he can be distracted just enough for one of them to land a shot. But it doesn't happen-- Nightwing gets trapped in a guillotine choke from Komodo, the former's head soon in Deadshot's crosshairs. But Nightwing performs a sitout with the brunt of his weight, holding Komodo's choking arm tight to make him roll over. It happens just before Deadshot pulls the trigger, Komodo's right shoulderblade catching the bullet instead of any part of Nightwing's.

The wound loosens Komodo's grip, him crying out in anguish as Nightwing escapes and plants a knee on Komodo's face. Deadshot reloads in this time, aims again, only to find the fray across the roadway covered in smoke. Knowing full well Nightwing's probably making his way to him, Deadshot stops lying on the ground in his sniping position to ready some of his closer range artillery. But no matter how prepared he gets to subdue Nightwing, he forgets who exactly was trained by the best. Nightwing had already zipped across the gap between both sides of the tower, kneeing Deadshot in the face before he could search for his target. Nightwing grabs Deadshot's arm with both hands, the one carrying a proprietary wrist gun, and slams that arm against the corner of a wall to break it. ]

How are you doing over there, D.VA? Got a number one victory royale, or what?

[ There's a newfound vigor that seems to propel Nightwing forward, driving him to be daring while also playing smart. Not simply diving headfirst into the hail of bullets and arrows that would've killed him had not taken the same approach. ]

Listen, I'm done here. I'm gonna need your help taking these guys to the drop zone.

[ So as his communications with D.Va continue, and they start cleaning up shop in this particular bridge, the time soon comes to call for reinforcements. Other members of the insurgency stand by to fend off the remaining Talon troopers, giving Nightwing and D.VA the allowance they need to follow through with depositing their newfound prisoners. The rhythm of dividing the work this way, distracting Talon troopers to subdue and detain the Magistrate's new enforcers, proves to be something of a routine as the night progresses.

Very soon, it's Prometheus and Copperhead who get taken down. Two martial artists, testing how well Nightwing can use those eskrima sticks. What they couldn't anticipate, for all their training, is D.Va's Meka barreling through them both.

They almost seemed easier than the previous ones, all things considered. Maybe Nightwing and D.Va just caught a lucky break. Too soon to say for sure as they head to Blackgate Isle, Nightwing having charted a flight path for the Meka to follow. Given all the time that's passed across the previous skirmishes, Killer Croc and Orca must've disembarked from their boat already, their entourage of Talon troopers following suit. Perhaps they have plans of taking over the old Blackgate Prison, claiming it for the Magistrate's purposes while it's empty enough to be "for lease."

But clearly, they've caught on. Know that Nightwing and D.Va are hot on their tails by now. So even while cloaked, seeking cloud cover, lasers fire at them from above. The Talon troopers have them in their sights, though they're so high up it's a tad difficult for a shot to land. ]

Okay, D.Va. Keep them confused.

They think they'll succeed by some kind of phalanx formation down there, but they're arranged more like bowling pins to me.

Does your defense matrix have enough juice? Because they sure look like they're asking for a bowling ball to match.

[ She takes his word to heart. They needed a distraction. Do you know what the biggest distraction you could have? One of the more prominent members of Overwatch making a complete mockery of your crew. Hana doesn't dare attack, doesn't shoot her gun, doesn't even do much but literally loops in and out of sight. It has her cracking up to herself, bringing a light-hearted and for the most part harmless part to this whole thing. She chases some levity in the situation, when Nightwing went off without her being able to monitor. To follow behind. She's too headstrong to chase him, though – she had her orders.

By the time they have their back and forth, she wants to call him dumb. Tease him back, make something light continue on. There hasn't been Battle Royales in years – shows proof that he's getting old and not sticking with the times, okay! However, there wasn't time to dwell on that. Talon can't be dealt with by taunting, so she handles the best she could. She's at a disadvantage, one she doesn't want to admit. Not to herself. Not to him. She busies herself, and by the time Nightwing needs her – she's there zipping up in a jiffy.

They move things along, a ticking down to a timebomb they hope to defuse. It wasn't quite Castling or some Fastball Special... but it was something special. Their synergy at an alltime high and the baddies? They were being thinned like herded cattle. ]

– but he was smushed on the shield worse than that Firebug-Guy!

[ She was still in better spirits about the whole thing, about the lucky break that gave them a moment to breathe. There wasn't talking, really after that. Silence wasn't the thing in the air – their breathing. Hana could shut her eyes for a moment and catch her breath from the rush of energy through her. It was hard to contain, hard to feel excited about – but it was there. It kept them going to the next fight.

By the time he speaks, he orders – she nods with a thumbs up. This one was a little bit more risky – Hana's eyes look to her UX display every so often, watching the dwindling boost power. It pisses her off to know she was foolish, that she was unlucky enough to be put nearly on the bench so soon! Her concerns were hidden, her own selfish choice that he's more than welcome to yell at her about later on. ]

Huh? Oh. Defense Matrix is 8 seconds, no cool down. Should be enough. 8 seconds feels like foreverrrrrrr sometimes.

[ Hana couldn't stick with stealth to save her life, so finally she's going to just... go for it. Down, down, down she goes – the wind whistling against the mech as it drops altitude in a nosedive. ]

And after the strike? Huh? What are you doing – and how can I assist?

[ He may not be well-versed in every aspect of this machine, but Dick knows a UX display when he sees one. It doesn't annoy him that Hana disregards this, her neglecting to disclose the element of risk that it poses. How often has Dick tested the limits of his own technology, after all? How often has he tested the limits of his resources, counting on his resourcefulness to fill in the blanks as needed? This isn't to say he'd feel hypocritical chastising her. Beyond the fact that there's a better time and place for that interaction... he also understands why she's making this choice. ]

8 seconds should be enough. Turn it on as soon as you ram through the bowling pins.

Er, Talon troopers.

In that time, I'm disembarking.

Our goal will be to take down every Talon trooper as quickly as possible.

We're gonna need them out of the way to have a better chance at Croc and Orca combined.

[ Dick can say nothing further while the Meka has started its nosedive and continues hurtling towards the ground (they're coming from really high up, having started too high for any of the troopers to reliably shoot them). The pivotal 8 seconds Dick's spoken of are approaching, though, and he anticipates Hana steering her machine directly into the formation of Talon troopers below. While the machine might have to stomach some gunfire along the way, it's had time to recover between bouts. It's not in ideal condition, but it should do for the final lap of the night.

That, at least, is what Dick's counting on. Because pretty soon that strike is gonna come, and when it does, Nightwing's gonna come back out.

If Hana succeeds in piloting the Meka to execute the planned maneuver, Dick witnesses its success from inside the Meka's collision with many Talon trooper's armored bodies. They should be hit with substantial force to be knocked all the way to kingdom come, rendered unconscious by the traumatic impact of the Meka's path. Many are sent flying, others rolling in the concrete, others clinging to the Meka's windshield and slowly sliding off as it progresses. It's after mowing down this entourage that Hana might trigger her Meka's Defense Matrix, all the better to temporarily give Dick some cover.

In the 8 seconds that the barrier is up and absorbing gunfire, Nightwing leaps out of the machine. He throws a smoke bomb past the Defense Matrix and takes advantage of the way it clouds his movements. With the 8 seconds inevitably passing, Nightwing expects D.Va to go on the offensive. He, on the other hand, rolls to dodge from where he was previously running, and continues towards the remaining troopers without hesitation. His sturdier armor plating occasionally sponges a few lasers, but at least he effectively proceeds to beat down several troopers.

But it's after breaking a Talon trooper's gun over his knee and heel hooking them in the head that Nightwing's punched in the back. Punched, that is, with enough force to send him flying like he'd just been run over by the Meka. He rolls to better absorb the impact of his fall before leaping off the ground to get back on his feet. Poor guy has to rub his back, though, pain still radiating from where he'd been struck. ]

Croc. That's him, D.Va.

[ And Orca, too, who'd been standing behind Croc. It's she who decides to continue towards Nightwing, while Croc turns to advance towards D.Va, who's about a quarter mile away fending off the last Talon troopers. ]

And he's headed towards you.

His skin's thick enough to stomach your Meka's missiles. Be careful!

[ Meanwhile, he's got other problems, like dodging every punch and kick Orca's throwing his way. She's no slouch either, but she must disdain watching Nightwing dodge her attempts to murder him. She growls with the ferocity of an... orca, every missed strike for Nightwing instead smashing detritus and loose debris surrounding the ruins of the old Blackgate Prison. Croc had punched Nightwing far enough to be near the prison's rear fence, or what's left of it. It used to serve as a barrier to what's now an abandoned prison yard.

Orca finally lands a punch, though, and one that sends Nightwing through that fence. Luckily, the barbed wire was now insubstantial enough that it only caused superficial damage to the back of his suit, tears exposing layers of kevlar among other, more proprietary polymers. Nightwing lands on his back, the momentum compelling him to roll backwards until he scrambles back onto his feet. ]

Been sent further away, D.Va. A cause for delay...

[ Orca's not happy, though, because Orca's not finished. She charges towards Nightwing, ready to barrel into him as the Meka did her troopers. ]

...but I'm not leaving you alone.

[ He breaks into a run towards Orca, bluffing. He really hopes D.Va can hold out, no matter how long he takes, and he slides between Orca's legs - all while dropping a few explosive wingdings beneath her - only to keep running. Insisting to himself that he must run, and keep going. Move faster. Ignoring the explosion behind him, ignoring the chance it only succeeded in stalling Orca and making her angier.

Makes him wonder if this is how Wally feels trying to push the limits of his speed. The thought's enough to make Nightwing chuckle as he vaults through the hole in the fence he helped create. Laughing, even as he sprints so hard and so fast he feels like his lungs are about to burst. ]

[ Hana had spent a lot of time trying to figure out Dick Grayson. To this day, after it was all said and done ... she doesn't know if she's closer to it. They watch each other's back, they think of the end goal as much as the other. This was a mission that Dick trusted Overwatch with. There had been only limited tie-ins, limited paths crossed with those from Gotham and it usually had not been Hana. Fate threw them in one path and now they were stuck on it together.

She knows what has to be done, knows that there was too much as stake. Talon alone had been nothing but a headache – building an army, amassing the best to go against Overwatch. Yet... they played politics. If Talon gets into the city, it's Game Over. Politics, as horrible as they may be, were going to reach a point of no return. Where hope was not an answer. ]

You got it! GL, have fun!

[ Good luck, have fun. Oh, how her words downplayed it. There was nothing fun about this but she forces herself to view it like some game. Bowling, this time. With Nightwing gone and her Meka withstanding an amount of fire targeted at her – she had to take it on the chin. It damages some of her paint, embedding a few holes right into where her cannons reside on the arm. They were trying to be strategic, but how can you be strategic to an incoming bowling ball? Hana's impact was beautiful, a strike if we ever saw one. Talon soldiers were sent into the air with enough brunt to break bones if they landed wrong. Not her problem.

The few that get up had to deal with the Defense Matrix having a solid meal for 8 seconds, on the dot.

By the time Nightwing gives her tips – she's able to avert her attention and barely see the display before her. Talon troops was one thing, but the two beasties that were apparently having a grand time focusing on their favorite birdboy? Yeah, that's a cause for concern. She yells a slew of curse words in Korean, the flicker of warning on the corner of her display clear: second booster failure. She was going off two now. One on each side and the health was dwindling. She could reboot, send another diagnostic to give her a shot at getting that third booster back but –

She acts. Bunny hops weren't the best way, but they lead her with leaps and bounds towards Croc in some selfish attempt to garner his attention. ]

Yoohoo! Over here!!! No autograph for you!

[ She yells out, disregarding Dick's notion. He doesn't know the rockets – all the painstaking work Overwatch has done to help her advance her Meka. A flurry of rockets shoot off and Croc was left bracing, if not shielding himself. It knocks him back in kind, skin tougher than anything but it damages him enough. His skin sizzle and still catch flame from the impact but he's rushing – tackling and meeting Meka halfway. She can't shoot her gaze to Nightwing, to see if he was okay. All she had was comms, all she had was faith.

Croc's claws dig into the glass of her cockpit, leaving scratches across the front. Metal bends at the connection of the shield and her side-paneling. She winces and sets her boosters into turbo drive once more, driving Croc into the ground with a guttural noise croaking past his throat. ]

He's about to rip Meka open! I need him off!

[ He's latched on, and that's when an idea strikes. He's a croc, not a damn bird. Boosters engage, enough to shoot her up into a swoop – to drive her upward. Dick had to contend with the explosion, but Hana sees it as if the world stopped. ]

Nightwing! Nightwing! Answer me! Are you OK?

[ She's mid-flight back up into those clouds, back up with Croc still latched to the front of Meka. He's slipping, claws ripping metal down in a gashing, desperate hold. They were above the water now and with a few more seconds –

Her mech flickers. It's lights dim to emergency setting and her screen is gone. Booster failure, and now – the freefalling descent down with one croc clinging for dear life as well. Hana's panicking to herself, looking around for anything she can do. The ejection button was slapped repeatedly, over and over – even her nerf. Nothing. ]

GG...?

[ She doesn't give up hope, but she can't find anything to let escape her lips before the impact of her machine causes a bellyflop of water to go surging into the isle. Meka was gone – sinking quickly with a Croc back in his element. All Hana can do is try to bang on the scratched glass to break through – not resorting to her gun just yet. Her mind was too panicked for that. ]

[ A flash of anger fills Croc as he hears he's not getting an autograph from D.Va. The politics between Overwatch and Talon have no actual bearing on Waylon's disposition, he's just choosing the winning side so he can survive the Magistrate's regime. Despite the power in the punch he threw at Nightwing, it was considerably weaker than Croc could dish out... given that he didn't break Nightwing's spine during said blow. He held back, because his heart's kind of not in it-- he knows he hasn't lived the life of a moral exemplar, and everything the Magistrate stands for is worse than he's ever been, but Croc won't stick his neck out for any insurgency. So long as he's decked out with an entourage of troopers, a position of power and security in the Magistrate's monopoly, it's gonna take a lot of convincing to change his mind. But that doesn't mean he's gonna start killing for the Magistrate if he doesn't have to. He'd come so close to putting that all behind him before Gotham turned to shit, had come so far... but now, what choice did he have?

Hana, of course, isn't obliged to consider this when she triggers the missiles. Croc doesn't exactly wear his heart on his sleeve, either, roaring as he tanks each collision, missiles exploding upon impact. Outfitted with some Talon brand shoulder, elbow, and knee pads, Croc soon loses them to the Meka's barrage... but nothing else. He's otherwise unscathed, happy to do something for once. He feels more active here than he ever did simply swimming around to plant a bomb in a flooded subway.

"Tickles!" he says, in his reptilian tongue. He charges through the smoke of the explosion to indeed scratch the glass of the Meka's cockpit, only for Hana to steer the machine against him, pummeling him into the ground... and then to the air.

From below, Nightwing's passed through the hole in the fence and can see D.Va flying Croc up into the sky. ]

I'm fine, D.Va.

You, on the other hand... what the hell!?

[ It all happens too quickly before his eyes. The crashing of the Meka into Gotham's waters, taking Croc down with it. Though Croc's mutation has given him considerable strength and very literal tough skin, that's still the impact of a machine on a man, who's also sandwiched between the Meka and the force of the water's surface tension. Maybe it's survivable, and Croc will turn out fine, but Dick and Hana had better hope the guy's clocked out enough for Hana to escape unscathed herself.

That, at least, is the hope Nightwing invests in this situation, charging as he does to the shore of Blackgate Isle. Orca, behind him, had been knocked out by his explosives. That much is in the clear. But with at least three more Talon troopers still standing, and D.Va's life very much on the line, Nightwing wastes no time dismantling them. The time comes to use the electric charge between his two eskrima sticks, smashing them together to release a shockwave that discombobulates the troopers in his way. While that means he won't be able to use it against Croc, Nightwing's gonna have to count on other things... and he can live with that.

But he can't live with losing Hana Song. Not while so much is left unsaid, so much left unlived. ]

Hana? HANA!!

[ The comms are compromised by the Meka's submersion, damage from its collision with Croc's body allowing water to enter its systems. The suspicion of this being the case propels Nightwing to dive into the water, placing a rebreather on his mouth before he properly leaps. Swimming as quickly as he can, at the risk of overtaxing his heart and lungs even more than he did previously, it's like it doesn't matter that he has the air support. He feels it, the ever-encroaching sensation of his body bursting from the exhaustion, the over-exertion as his arms stroke through the water towards Hana, legs kicking incessantly in desperation.

Hana wouldn't be blamed for considering the use of her gun, the possibility of escape by such means. Water, after all, has started flooding the cockpit, steadily rising to also short circuit her controls. The chance of manually opening the hatch is foreclosed, short of destroying it... but at least Croc seems unconscious underneath the Meka. Nightwing swims past him as he clambers onto the other side of the windshield, where he sees D.Va. Sees Hana.

He pulls something out of one of his gauntlets, a small handheld device which he uses to spray explosive gel on the glass surface of the windshield. Nightwing gestures for Hana to swim back and brace herself, performing the pose he wants her to imitate: he tucks his head in his arms like he's guarding in a boxing match. This is in anticipation of what follows when he pulls the handheld's trigger, and the gel explodes in the direction of the windshield. Nightwing grips the outer handle of the Meka tight, and extends a hand to Hana so he can pull her out.

If she takes his hand, he pulls with all his might, exerting more of what remains of his strength to free her from the cockpit. He produces another rebreather from inside one of his gauntlets, and places it between her lips. Nightwing then places a hand on Hana's shoulder, and points down at Croc. He begins climbing down the exterior of the Meka to grab the unconscious Croc by the armpit, and he waves Hana towards him so she can pull from the other side. The hope, here, is to save Croc from getting crushed between the Meka and the sea floor, as he's too unconscious to hold his breath for uncanny periods-- something he can better achieve awake. As such, the prolonged submersion would eventually kill him if he doesn't wake up.

Expending yet more of his strength, at least Nightwing knows he has D.Va's help this time. Their combined efforts to pull Croc from below the Meka succeed, and Nightwing starts swimming upward with Croc in tow. Surely, D.Va follows suit, until all three of them reach the surface.

The chilly coastal air is freezing when the two emerge, and the water they're still swimming in is already quite cold. Upon swimming back to Blackgate Isle, Nightwing and D.Va reach the shore, whose sand leads to the grassy knolls surrounding the old Blackgate Prison. Waves lap up on Croc's unconscious body, while Nightwing takes off the rebreather and drops it carelessly, him collapsed on the sand and breathing heavily for dear life. D.Va, at this is point, is likely faring no better. ]

We did it, Hana. We really did it...

[ He sounds funny saying it, absolutely out of breath. His athleticism, which seems so natural and fluid in his execution of intense acrobatic stunts, has been stretched to its limits over the past evening. Exhaustion was already bearing down on him when first facing Orca and Croc, but now it's taken over him completely. Nightwing's limbs are lifelessly splayed on the sand, the shore occasionally lapping up on his body as well. He's lucky to not get hit with any bigger waves, but he's completely and utterly spent.

The only thing more powerful than his exhaustion, though, is his relief. ]

I'm so glad you're okay, Hana. If the worst were to happen, I'd never forgive myself...

But damn. You did it. You took down Croc and pulled no punches doing it.

That's--

[ He has to stop to cough out some water all of a sudden. ]

That's what you call the "Play of the Game," isn't it?

Edited 2021-05-28 02:04 (UTC)

[ The training that was in the back of her mind taught her a few things.

Take care of yourself first. You're worthless to others if you're not safe.
Keep an eye on your team, but focus on your priority.
Remain calm and breathe in times of stress.
If all else fails, put up a hell of a fight.

None of those came to mind as she sees nothing but darkness engulf her. The bubbling water swallowing her machine whole makes her ears pop and she's left frantically beating at the scratched glass for a weakspot – for a way out. Water seeps through, trickles as if it was taunting her and here – she nearly has a Hamilton-esque recollection of all of her life. Fortunately, it doesn't get that far.

Hana, as scared as she was, doesn't yield up. Dick may be able to follow the sinking bubbles from Meka, she still was desperate to find a way out herself. Her gloves dig into her fingers from the force of her tugs, trying to pry the hatch open – when she nearly gives in... there he was.

He was no Mercy, but he descends in the way she needs to feel the words return to her – ]

I'm sorry!

[ Two words, full responsibility. For what, exactly? Their past? Their now? Hana and D.Va made mistakes right now, something she'll take into account when she has a moment but... She wanted him to know she was sorry. Whether he could hear her or not remains to be said, but her apology was genuine. It was there when she watches him, divided once again.

By the time he motions for her to shield herself, she does, turning with her last breath a pufferfish-faced annoyance before water rushes inside and her freedom allows her to live another day. Swimming out to him, gaining the help of a rebreather – maybe her heart will calm down over time.

They had something to do, however – even if she didn't want to... she follows Dick's lead. Swimming down to Croc, instead of helping... she'll deck him one good time in the jaw. For her own sense of pride. A quick birdflip and she scoops him up, with the surface waiting for them both. He was heavy, even here and she struggles to kick those short legs of hers but – she wouldn't let up. Up, up, up they go and soon when they breach the tension of ripples chasing the shoreline... she carelessly drops Croc nearly facefirst in the sand.

Ripping her rebreather off, she collapses onto her side, the pink triangles on her cheeks completely ruined and her eyes shut for just a moment. ]

Was – was playing on c-casual mode... No biggie...

[ She downplays it. Severely so where her own insecurities and frustrations were buried under that persona the public donned her with. She listens to him, tiredness in his voice clear as day. ]

Says... mister overachiever... [ They just seem to be shittalking and teasing one another but by the time she gets up, crawls to him – she's looking down with the utmost respect in her eyes. ] I think you have the honors. This time.

[ Smooth moves with the rescue mission. ]

I don't think I want them.

[ He coughs again, more from the exhaustion of his lungs than from any residual water he might've gulped while swimming. ]

Coming home to a PS6 is reward enough, believe me.

[ That's him matching Hana's energy about making light of their shared near-death situation. It's not the funniest joke he can make (Dick being the biggest critic of his own quips), but he laughs anyway, just happy to be alive. He's survived more surreal experiences than this in all his time as Robin, and then as Nightwing, but what he barely accomplished to save Hana is a sobering reminder that he's still human. He can punch down alien gods and send transdimensional wizards back from whence they came, but Dick remains so utterly and fundamentally human.

For all the heights that Nightwing seems capable of reaching, he can still plummet to his death trying to take on Firefly. For all the ways he's sailed the stars and walked through other realities, he can still drown to death trying to save that lousy Killer Croc. Maybe that's what makes his feats all the more special, that he doesn't have the luxury of powers.

Maybe... that's what makes him a hero. That while mindful of his limitations, he tries anyway.

If it took nearly dying to see that, he doesn't care. There's a number of stupider ways he could've died, at least, like stumbling and falling so that his neck lands on a rock. Totally not a pointed example of a stupid death whatsoever, but digression aside-- he's even happier to know Hana's alive. That every way she's pushed back at him and brought him out of his funk... was what gave him the acumen he needed to save her. Acumen he's always had, but nearly lost sight of.

And now, she's clambered onto him, sprawled atop his body as her head hovers over his. She's looking down at him in admiration, he up at her in reverence. And for once, he wishes he had the luxury of powers. Some way to contain this moment for as long as possible, if not forever. But surely that goes again Dick embracing who he is, so... he laughs again. Perishing the thought.

Thinking, instead, to lift his head and crane his neck. His lips find Hana's as he wraps his arms around the small of her back, surprising himself to find he's got enough energy to keep kissing her. He notes the softness of her lips, so familiar yet so distant from what he once recalled. But that's nothing worth resenting, worth mourning. What he has in front of him, what he actively relishes with affection now... is worth celebrating. ]

I read your lips earlier, Hana. Underwater.

You have nothing to be sorry for.

Nothing.

[ That's the most he says before motioning to kiss her again, a hand rising from the small of her back to sink its fingers in her hair, cradling the back of her neck. He only disrupts the kiss one last time before continuing, hoping never to stop for the world. ]

I'm not letting you go this time, okay?

Never again.

[ If there was any rise to the percentage of Hana putting out, the mention of the PS6 shot it up there.

JK. JK.

He can still make these tired, almost outdated jokes – and it makes her laugh. A harsh one, the laugh that hurts her chest really. It was dumb, so so so dumb but it was one of those endearing moments where clarity was offered in abundance. They did something crazy and in her mind... it was mission accomplished. Or, something close to it. There was enough time for a breather when she just... looks to him. Relieved, she thinks, or maybe it was genuine happiness that he was okay. The explosion still fresh on her mind as much as her sinking to the bottom of the bay...

Her form was close to him, enough for him to act with the same ambition she does every day. The kiss steals her breath worse than submersion would, a gasp in shock lingers into a soft, pitiful moan of appreciation. He hand catches against his cheek, cradling him and encouraging the energy he offers, a confirmation that it wasn't one-sided or this an owed prize for their 'victory'. It brings her back to happier times, it brings her back to Hana. Sopping wet, freezing – those sensations were buried under the relief she feels for him.

Maybe this was the first few steps of happier times returning.

When they pull back for a brief moment, she doesn't even get a word in response. She is sorry, and stubbornly he can't change that. But.. the distraction was nice at least? The tension of his fingers through her hair makes her nearly lean into him – a reckless way, but it was enough to at least... let the moment truly linger until she needed to breathe. ]

Don't make promises you can't keep.

[ It was challenging, a laugh slipping past her lips. No accusations, no self-doubt. Playful. Light.

...A pitiful, sad moment before something interrupts the reunion. A sudden eruption of sand hits both of them – a large, beautiful sword impaled right above Dick's shoulder. Mere inches from missing him, Hana flinches and stumbles back to her knees – the sword sticking up from the ground under them as an open challenge.

Moment's over. You've caused a lot of headache tonight.

A gravely, husk of a voice comes from nowhere in particular – Hana reaching at her hip for the gun still secured at her hip, finger on the trigger, ready... she's aiming out into the expanse of the decaying landscape past the beach – on the ready.

This wasn't someone she was familiar with, but it was a threat. Clearly. Her eyes only glance to Dick for a moment – confirmation on what lies ahead. ]

[ Dick just might be the happiest he's ever felt in a long time. The most like himself, for that matter, like he's made it home from a long journey. The doldrums, the tumult, the despair... all of it accumulating into a long trek with no discernible end. It tested him, living like this, resources strained and allies dwindled under a protracted struggle against the Magistrate. And though it grew less and less one-sided over time, to the point that Dick maintained a strong enough network to even contact Winston, it still felt endless. Like at any moment, the rug could be pulled from under his feet, and everything would fall into further disarray. Like one slip-up could mean the Magistrate would win.

But being so close to Hana, kissing her in this way... it felt more real than anything he'd been through the past several years. Like only now is he waking up from an extended nightmare. Maybe these moments with Hana are too real then, as to be fantasy. Like Dick would ever find a moment like this again, let alone deserve it. He'd sacrificed too much, compromised too often, and maybe... maybe what soon befalls him proves him right.

Because the moment definitely doesn't last. A sword lands perfectly straight into the sand beside his head, its collision startling Hana into a jump away from Dick's body. It's only then that he rises to roll sideways and get back on his feet, looking onward at the owner of this sword. The one who saw to it to bring Dick back to reality, or perhaps... back to the nightmare.

Pick it up, Grayson. You look damn tired, so I wanna even the odds. Make this worth my while. ]

You haven't changed, Slade.

[ He reaches behind his back to take out his eskrima sticks, and drops them on the sand behind him. His signature weapons lie there, situated between where Dick stands and Hana still kneels, gun at the ready. Then Dick, Nightwing, reaches for the hilt of the blade and lifts it from the sand. Out of a begrudging respect for his old enemy, he's taken the weapon. ]

Last time I saw him, I took Ra's Al Ghul down the same way. He threw me a sword and challenged me.

[ Ra's is old. Demoralized by all the times your dear old dad has kicked his ass. But me... can't say your track record's quite the same. ]

Then let's change that.

[ Nightwing and Deathstroke each carry matching swords belonging to the same set. Each being designed to be held in one hand, the two combatants hold theirs as such. Before they each dart towards each other to close the distance atop the sand, Nightwing briefly looks over his shoulder to glance at Hana. ]

If this happened earlier, I'd have told you to leave while you still can. Sacrifice myself unnecessarily.

But remember what I said about help. I know I'll need it.

[ He offers something of a mischievous smirk, hoping to reassure her. Hoping to tell her that it'll all be okay, and they'll actually make it out of here alive. But against someone like Deathstroke, whose past with Dick Grayson Hana is acutely aware of... the future isn't guaranteed. Firefly might have posed a challenge for his tech, Killer Croc for his strength... but Deathstroke has the skill to back up everything else in his arsenal. He is, for all intents and purposes, Nightwing's antithesis. Enemy of the Titans, and now, seemingly... of Gotham's insurgency. ]

You took a sip of the kool-aid too, didn't you?

[ Their swords clash, each blade held in tension against the other.

Can't say no to the way they're funding my operations. I'm more of an independent contractor than a true devotee.

After saying that, Deathstroke forces his blade upon Nightwing's to shove him out of their stalemate. With his superior strength, he succeeds, and proceeds to throw a flurry of slashes Nightwing's way. The latter parries and dodges what he can, but finds parts of his gauntlets getting chipped away by the precision of Deathstroke's movements. For every thrust or slash deflected, Deathstroke figures out a way to intercept Nightwing's defenses, taking something away piecemeal. Like he's toying with his prey. ]

Then you know you don't have to do this, Slade. You're likely to find better money elsewhere.

[ And just when Nightwing thinks he has an edge, starting to intercept Deathstroke similarly, he's sent flying across the sand by a powerful push kick.

And turn down the chance to finally kill you? Please. Thought you knew me better after all this time.

Nightwing rolls upon landing to get his bearings straight, only to watch as Deathstroke has approached him with his sword raised. He swings the blade downward in a vertical arc towards Nightwing, who catches the incoming strike with a roof block: his hand held up high with the blade pointed diagonally downward, across his centerline.

With his free hand, Nightwing takes the same dispenser of explosive gel he'd used to free Hana from her Meka. In great haste, he sprays some of it on Deathstroke's chest before the strength of the latter's blade makes maintaining the block impossible. Nightwing's arm gives out and he slides off his centerline to dodge, but Deathstroke's blade grazes his left tricep before hitting the ground. This causes Nightwing to stumble and fail to escape Deathstroke's range as he readies a vertical slash, intended for the side of Nightwing's stomach. ]

You're right, Slade.

[ Nightwing detonates the explosive gel, sending Deathstroke hurtling dozens of feet across the sand. ]

We were never friends. Can't say I know you all that well.

[ Fresh blood falls on the sand from Nightwing's arm. He groans in pain at the gash, gritting his teeth... for what was thought to be a graze was a deeper cut into muscle. He finds a reason to laugh, though, before looking over at Hana. ]

Dammit... this is gonna be harder than I thought. Mondays, right?

Edited 2021-05-28 20:35 (UTC)

[ It was the relief from all of the song and dance they did tonight. They battled their ghosts, stomached their regrets, come to terms that – life was far too short. They didn't need to rush to meet their maker halfway. Hana was swept up in the moment, feeling like the current of the bay was still rushing around her. She remembers his kiss, how even with the force of a fighter... he was desperate. They enjoyed all they could – time not even made up for by the time someone joins the fray.

She can't say she understands it. Honor among enemies. She thinks of how easily he could have driven that sword through both of them. Part of her is insulted, part of her is annoyed. Are they really going to do this? Her gun remains ready, aimed with precision and confidence that if Dick tells her to fire – she'd take the shot without hesitation. It wouldn't do much, but it would do enough.

Dick does a poor job at reassurance. Buddy, she gave you smooches and now you're swordfighting? Not cool. Total mood killer. Hana's a few feet from Dick's weapons – tactical enough to make note that if need be... if guns didn't do well, she can handle his stick quite nicely. ;) The scene unfolds too quickly and she isn't sure at what point she comes up with the idea but – she presses the comm receiver on the inside of her wrist, sending a beacon directly to Winston. ]

Winston! Going to need a retrieval crew ASAP! If Meka III is primed – huuuhhh? No way!

[ Hana almost feels naked without the giant mech, it shows. She feels... vulnerable when she is waiting to take a damn shot or act on her own. The last thing she wants to do is compromise anything, to risk Dick getting hurt. To get a mission failure. When Winston breaks the news that her 'back-up' mech wasn't ready for launch, she curses – right when explosions rock her back onto her ass as well. ]

Nightwing!

[ She feels childish, like a kid crying out for no reason. This was the reality of it: there wasn't a respawn with something like this. Dick was hurt and it's in those short few seconds – not even a friggin minute – that Hana weighs her options. ]

Forget Mondays, you're not doing this alone. I do not care what stupid macho man-showdown you want. This isn't 1 v 1 and if you leave me out again, we sooo aren't doing that again!

[ Time to test that theory – as the 'dust' settles... what will be awaiting, hmmm. ]

Edited 2021-05-29 05:38 (UTC)

[ It is quite arbitrary, the pretext of honor dictating this duel. But it's this same honor that just might be saving Nightwing's life, as the quick and easy kill well within Deathstroke's abilities simply didn't happen. Dick and Hana could be dead already, but neither of them should take this as an extension of Slade's mercy. Dick knows him all too well, understands that Slade's just priming his prey for a more satisfying kill. Dick laughs, then, as he steadily rises to stand upright, sword in hand. ]

This isn't the first time you've tried this, Slade.

It's probably mortifying to you that I'm still alive-- alive for you to even attempt this.

[ Oh, it won't be much of an attempt this time.

Slade readies his own blade and charges at Nightwing, who can't respond quick enough to his opponent's enhanced movements. Blades clash as Nightwing barely manages a block, stepping off Slade's centerline to attempt a counter with a redondo strike-- slashing Deathstroke's chestplate in a vertical circular motion. But as Nightwing's blade descends after the apex of the slash, Deathstroke steps in to seize the wrist of Nightwing's sword arm with his free hand, which pulls his arm taut. In that same instant, Deathstroke presses his forearm - belonging to his own sword arm - against Nightwing's tricep, compelling him to bend down sideways. But then Deathstroke commits, shoving Nightwing down facefirst into the sand, letting the impact do the work of disarming him.

Because upon falling, Nightwing does let go of his sword. And Deathstroke still maintains control of Nightwing's wrist and tricep, taking the opportunity to shift their momentum so he can swing his legs over Nightwing's chest. Deathstroke keeps his opponent's arm taut between his legs as the two men both land on their backs. It's while he remains locked in this armbar that Nightwing grits his teeth, looking around to search for D.Va in the vicinity.

Upon finding her, he shoots her an imploring look. ]

Whatever you can do, D.Va, do it.

I've distracted him long enough!

[ Distracted, you say? Don't insult me, Grayson.

Deathstroke stretches his body on the sand, pulling Nightwing's arm - already locked straight - with it.

I'm going to dislocate your shoulder, now. And after I dislocate your other one just for the hell of it, I'm snapping your neck. Deal? ]

I don't know, Slade. Gonna need more time to think about it.

Is it okay if I follow up by email?

[ Against the might of Deathstroke's technique, here, Nightwing resists. Actively he fights the pull of Deathstroke's body, which stretches in the hopes of dislocating said shoulder. Nightwing's free hand fumbles for something he can use against Deathstroke all the while... but it's only a matter of seconds before his arm will give and Deathstroke will take its mobility from him.

Before that can happen, and with Deathstroke distracted by the prospect of victory, what follows is D.Va's call. ]

[ Hana's recall had always been her 'ace'. Here and now, though? Fleets of Meka were not in high abundance. They worked with what they got. Hana fixed and salvaged most of her more ambitious attempts that ended in a "Nerf This!" callout. Through updates in the recent years, Hana knows how precious her Meka was, how much she relies on it – more than she can rely on herself at time. When Winston drops that bad news – that one of the few remaining units were not ready for disembarking to her... she feels helpless. The salvage team was already en-route, but it does not use to know her machine would be out of commission for days, if not weeks during maintenance.

There are times, uncharacteristically, she would sulk – but now – no. Hana stumbles to her feet with her gun aimed. Firing a few green-sparked shots in Slade's direction when Dick found himself in quite the pickle. There wasn't time for her to lament and wish she had Meka with her. A handful of shots were bringing her back to reality. It wasn't ill-aimed, she goes for weak spots. His collarbone, his bicep – something to loosen the grip and try and get him off. If the energy bullet pierces his suit, so be-it but she was more desperate to try and pry them apart. Give Nightwing a chance to breathe. ]

Save the beef for a burger, idiot!

[ Not like she's a tsundere, just angry – okay. By now, she's getting the impression her gun was the equivalent of a fly - buzzing around and just causing annoyance. Hana drops it with a mad dash, scooping up the two escrima sticks tightly between her gloved grasp. They feel foreign, feel heavier than she'd imagine – but the electricity doesn't spark just yet. Hana kicks sand up, rushing towards the two without common sense at all. Slade has no 'weapon' in his arm by the time he was focusing his strength to break the non-bat, and that was the level Hana thinks she can take him. An overarched swing slams one stick directly down into the side of his shoulder – almost as if it was some swan song for Slade's attempt to take Nightwing's. Her second swing was caught at the wrist, nearly breaking it right then and there. It was close to it, making her fumble the stick directly next to Nightwing. Hm. He bats her off easily, sending her rolling back into the sand with a sobbed gut-wrenching grunt, leaving Deathstroke to focus his attention down for merely a moment – enough for Hana's electrified stick to be thrown with all the force she could muster to any of his upper extremities, preferring a 'headshot' above all else but... we'll see if it hits. ]

[ Not a fan of that stuff, kid. Burgers tend to get sloppy. Messy.

Deathstroke's body tightens its grip around Nightwing's, winning the war of attrition to dislocate his shoulder. He doesn't even so much as look at D.Va while responding to her, seeming to make the mistake of dismissing her as beneath him.

I prefer the kind of food that yields to a cleaner slice. Fish fillets... augh!

But before he can follow through, Deathstroke stomachs several hits from D.Va's gun, every blast scorching his armor, heat piercing through gaps enough to inflict discomfort. Deathstroke might heal quicker than most, but he still feels pain-- can still be stunned. He groans at the collective gunfire raining down on him from D.Va's pistol, and Nightwing laughs. Taking advantage of Deathstroke's brief disorientation, he breaks out of the armbar to pull a reversal, holding Deathstroke in side control. ]

Look what she's made you do, Slade. Monologuing about food!

Now I'm damn hungry and want this over with. Keep it coming, D.Va!

[ And that's when she descends upon Deathstroke with Nightwing's eskrima sticks, beating him while he's being held down by Nightwing's weight. In side control, Nightwing kneels as his arms embrace Deathstroke's neck in a chokehold, maintaining constant pressure with his chest and shoulders. His knees, meanwhile, remain bent against Deathstroke's armpit and side. It's while the two are in this state that D.Va steps in to take a few swings at the mercenary, careful despite her fury to miss Nightwing in the process.

But yes. Deathstroke wrenches an arm free to bat D.Va away with a palm strike from below, nearly breaking Nightwing's control in the process. He's brought down again by his opponent's weight, though, and watches as one of the eskrima sticks - charge turned on - is sent hurtling towards his helmeted face. Nightwing breaks away from side control to roll backwards just before Deathstroke's face catches the shock. D.Va's seen this thing carry a charge targeted at multiple attackers, discombobulating them all. So what happens when that same charge only targets one?

Deathstroke had reached to catch it, to see if he could intercept, but the stick misses his hand to fly directly into his face. The shock not only travels across his body, but shatters his helmet upon impact-- and Nightwing and D.Va get to enjoy the subsequent light show. A pained scream comes out of Deathstroke as he succumbs to a powerful electric blast-- the kind of thing that would kill an unenhanced human, if targeted alone.

But here, he falls unconscious, joining Croc as another body splayed motionless on the sand. ]

Seems we're taking in more prisoners than expected.

[ That's Nightwing still bleeding from the tricep as he stumbles towards D.Va, collecting his sticks along the way. He stops mere inches from her to clamp a hand on her shoulder, looking down at her in admiration. ]

You did good. More than good. I really needed you, and you came through.

[ He turns, though, to give Deathstroke and Killer Croc another look. ]

Before I rose to pick up the sword, I triggered a signal for reinforcements to arrive.

They're still en route, but we can leave it to them to take these two to the nearest drop zone.

So for now... we wait. Then I think it's back to HQ for us.

[ He had let go of D.Va's shoulder while speaking, however, to reach inside his gauntlet for a bandage to wrap around his wound. A placeholder for better equipment back in Arkham. ]

[ Hana made Deathstroke monologue! Hana made Deathstroke monologue! Hana made Deathstroke monologue!

That would be something that goes onto her resume when she isn't worried that either of them would get killed. It was frustrating that they were not able to enjoy their reunion, as selfish as it was to. They had worked hard to do good and of course, life had a way to try and wedge between that. The wedge this time was one annoying blast from Nightwing's past.

Hana didn't have sentimentality. Didn't have history. So when she acts, she's a bundle of frustration and anger. Protective, at the very least. He needed her, needed her to act and she can't just... freeze.

For her lack of education on the sticks, she could have killed him. Truthfully. It was a rage that lets her disregard much of the caution she'd take with a human enemy, instead taking out the frustrations on her next omnic threat.

The crackle of electricity brings her back to the moment, to their victory. Hana's in awe of Deathstroke being taken out with a somewhat precise toss – making her just... lose herself in the sight in front of her. It was a relief... it was another tally to their victories for the day. Hana gets a comm call near the tail end of it, when she stumbles to her feet... at least she knows Winston was good on his word – sending out the salvage team for Meka retrieval within an hour. ]

Nightwing – [ She could care less about the back-up, instead concern in her eyes for the gash on his tricep. He approaches her and her hand immediately goes to his – a brief moment of care there. ] Let's just get you taken care of. Your dumb trash talk almost had him turn you into sashimi.

[ She mad they both had to go 1 v 1 and look where it got them! But, even if she scolds him, he knows its from a good place. Pushing her own trauma and fear of letting her team down... letting him down aside. Masking it better than before with a small smile. ]

Drive-thru, then HQ.

[ Because yeah, burgers do sound good now. ]

[ The toss's lack of precision compared to say, if Dick did it was compensated for by the power of the stick's charge. The collision from the contact it still made with Deathstroke's head led to his undoing, which Hana's surely over the moon about. Dick stumbles as he attempts to walk across the sand towards more of the grassland surrounding the old Blackgate prison. His body right now's just very weak and in need of rest, and it's upon realizing this that he chuckles to himself. ]

I think this is the most I've busted my ass in a while.

[ He extends his arm in Hana's direction, implicitly inviting her to support him - slinging his arm over her shoulders - as they walk away from the vicinity. ]

We don't exactly have a ride right now.

But I can hail one.

[ During their briefings at the start of the evenign, Hana's seen Dick conjure a holographic readout from his gauntlet. As soon as it projects now, he triggers a command that summons the Batmobile, deploying it to head to the nearest curb to their coordinates. That much is made evident by the notifications on the screen, which Dick allows to linger for Hana to read. ]

Programmed this for quick escapes.

[ He has a secret route to Arkham that makes use of old tunnels under the city. But that's not necessarily something he needs to explain till after food. ]

There's a Denny's in Gotham's outskirts, towards Burnside. One of the few remaining that hasn't been demolished by the Magistrate.

Any objections?

[ In this Future State™ of omnics and fancy technology, Denny's has innovated on its past business model by having drive-thrus. ]

Got a nice table in the HQ to set our food. You might like the place.

[ And not just because of the PS6 he remembers to be sitting there.

Before long, the Batmobile does arrive. A holdover from the days when Dick served as Batman with Damian as his Robin, the craft is also capable of flight. It's not something Dick's willing to take to too many missions given the number of the Magistrate's forces patrolling the streets. It eventually made more sense to keep it around as a getaway car. Tonight, though, the insurgency's efforts should have put the Magistrate's forces in enough disarray.

So when Dick and Hana arrive at the curb in front of the old Blackgate Prison, the car's already waiting for them. Its trajectory wasn't interrupted by the meddlings of any Magistrate loyalist, as few were now around to even police the streets. The Batmobile's cockpit then opens for access, allowing Dick to parkour into it and take the driver's seat. ]

Setting directions for the nearest Denny's. You should look up what you want already.

For all your help tonight... it's on me.

[ The hope is that once Meka was fished from the water, the team would transport it back to base. Make sure it was ready for her to get back and work on. She's made so many changes to the machine that she feels like it hasn't reached its potential. Go back to OG... try new things – the possibility was endless! Without having to worry about all the PR behind the Meka squad, to be a real hero and not just a celebrity – things are able to be worked on freely. Even now, she's thinking of how to improve.

But... her attention now was on Nightwing. By the time he comes to her, she tries to keep him standing tall. Standing proud. He should be. It was a busy time tonight. ]

Oh, I thought we would just Uber. [ Half kidding, she braces him towards their coordinate, a relief at least that both of their respective networks were moving things along and wrapping up the mess they had to deal with. ] No objections, none at all.

[ They were on the downside now, their senses finally coming to and the adrenaline rushing off. They were both like wet rats at this point, but they were hungry heroes? Sometimes you gotta get a burger before drying off. It sounds like it'll slap almost as good as a ham & cheese sandwich after swimming in the pool all day.

When the Batmobile arrives, she's left marveling at it. It was still fancy, even if it feels a bit 'outdated' with current trends. Sorry, technosnob over here. ]

Whoooa. This looks like it costs millions more than the D.Vacycle! [ Her short-lived time on a bike was not without her own ribbing – especially considering how much she crashed it before putting it away in storage.

By the time they're settled in, she crawls in with an oof, head tilted back into the headrest and just letting her eyes shut tightly for a few moments. ] Oh, my hero! I already know. A bacon cheeseburger.... no pickles. Simple enough, right?

[ But, she recalls something else – a mention of his place. He was taking her back there until she scheduled a pick-up... Winston knows she's in good hands, at least. ]

Is it like your last place?

[ That was open-ended but she snickers and peers one eye open to glance at him. ]

I could barely get a Wi-Fi signal there.

[ Uber. He chuckles at that, reminded that other places in the world still have ridesharing. Gotham has not been a zone for much of what the rest of the world still enjoys, warts and all. ]

Speaking of transportation, don't worry about your Meka.

Thanks to Winston, my guys should be in communication with yours. As soon as people take it out of the water, Clayface is carrying it towards transport to South Korea.

[ Dick appraises his battle-damaged Nightwing suit, now bearing many nicks and gashes exposing the advanced polymers that constitute its defenses. Stuff Slade was able to tear through like paper with his equipment, that the likes of Electrocutioner and Orca could barely manage a dent on. Didn't stop Killer Croc from doing damage to the man beneath the armor, but Slade came closer to killing him than any assailant tonight.

In the grand scheme of things? No surprise there.

As Hana appraises the Batmobile, Dick continues appraising all the damage his suit has sustained over the past evening. He's kind of not over it, really. ]

Thing's definitely worth a pretty penny. Maybe more now that it's vintage.

[ Dick hoped to dry himself a little more before hopping in. But once inside, he starts the ignition and begins steering the Batmobile out of Blackgate's vicinity. Looking at his sleeves and gauntlets briefly while turning the steering wheel, the damage becomes all the more salient. ]

This sucks. Suits like these aren't cheap either... but at least I've got spares.

[ He's lucky he's had a life free from want, thanks to Bruce. And with yet more thanks to Bruce, he hasn't lived a life free from responsibility. The assets poured into the construction of the Nightwing suit and its corresponding gadgetry are a testament to what Dick will sacrifice to save this city. In its current state, the Nightwing suit can be washed and repaired, but now Dick only plans to wear it to patrols and covert missions that don't demand high-stakes confrontations. He has fresher costumes for those. ]

Gonna nab one of their grand slams. Nothing like an "early breakfast" at 2AM, am I right?

[ Wouldn't be the first time he's stopped by places during all-nighters. That's almost customary, really, given how much calories he and other Bat-people expend fighting crime. Sure saved Alfred the trouble of preparing meals all the time!

As he makes a right on red towards a main street, Dick hears Hana ask him about his pad. ]

From back in New York?

That was more of a bunker to me. And far from my only one.

[ Sorry, Hana. Back then, he was far too on-the-go to care about the wifi. His HQ in the Cloisters museum was where he allocated all his wifi needs, and in all the time they spent together, Hana never got a proper tour. But that (forgive the museum pun) is history. ]

I promise there's functional wifi this time. Kinda need it to maintain communications.

But more importantly, I need my PS6 to stay connected.

[ It's more of a sideline pet project of his to reacquaint himself with gaming, okay? He knows he'll never catch up to Hana or, say, Tim. ]

[ For all that she had to deal with tonight, for the first time – she feels... happy. Of course, there's guilt. Dick got hurt and Meka was being recovered to be worked on aaaaaaaggggaiiiinnnn, but she's trying to look at the silver linings. She's thinking about the city, how he will hopefully have a night to rest. Every so often, she'll gaze at him, as if trying to pinpoint if he's pained – if he's suffering. Bit by bit, D.Va was taking a backseat and Hana was showing more without the guise of that gamer superstar. ]

Better than losing an arm completely, right? Suits can be replaced and – uh... okay, I guess arms can be too, but –

[ Her point being, she tries to at least give him a comforting silver lining and is left laughing at her realization. This was the first time since they started that she could breathe, and even through the turns of the swaggy-mobile, she's nearly rocked right to sleep. ]

It'll be nice getting something to eat with someone again. [ Even with her squad, D.Va needed to be on call a lot – so it was usually bunnyhopping through downtown with takeout. ] And – yes!! You paid and you were on like .5G!

[ She's laughing again. Her cheeks hurt from how big she was grinning. He did this to her. After the bricks began to come down, the wall between them not as high as they thought – was she allowing herself to not worry about the call of Overwatch, of her government, and just – ugh, grab a bite to eat? ]

When was the last time you even logged on? Or are you using it to impress pretty gamer girls?

[ A streak of jealousy is there, but she's teasing. ]

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