[dickva] love in a hopeless place ;(

[wareffort]

[ 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. ]

Comments

[wareffort]

You're definitely setting a good example.

[ And based on how tonight went, he definitely needs the lesson. Learning to trust someone else, especially an equal out in the field, can make or break a mission. That's why, when it counted most, Dick surrendered some authority to Hana, stopped monopolizing the mission and shouldering all of it on his own. A leader's nothing without a team, and after everything he's lost, Dick had to relearn that. He's very much in the process of that, still, surrendering yet more as he allows Hana to take control, to take care of him as she appraises his budding eagerness.

Her appraisal, of course, isn't for her viewing alone. Like Dick, Hana's a born performer. Here she is hoping to delight him with a private spectacle, something he can have all to himself, as she attends to his needs with considerable vigor. Every movement, here, is audible - she makes it known how much she dirties herself to please him, mouth sloppy as she takes in his girth, steadily accommodating as much of him as she can. On the level of performance, Dick's definitely captivated, his attention arrested by the spectacle Hana puts forth. Yet once again, the mere sight of her is enough to titillate, to secure him to his seat as his cock - upright and erect - unwaveringly stands at attention, awaiting more of her touch.

Anticipation, here, is just as rewarding as sensation. Hana will know this any time she looks up, able to see Dick grit his teeth as he attempts to hold himself back. To not let himself moan too loudly, or cry out and whimper in a way that would have him at a disadvantage. Visibly, his muscles tense, upper body now rigid and taut like a rubber band waiting to snap. Years of tension waiting to unravel, to explode, become readily apparent in Dick, who clearly struggles to contain himself. Struggling, of course, without resenting Hana's efforts to undermine it. ]

Dear god--

[ He can't help but exclaim, between labored breaths. Hana's only just begun, but Dick's practically putty in her hands. ]

Not surprised you know your way around a joystick.

[dva]

[ This was better than any trophy, any award, any spotlight. A true, humanizing celebration for a job well done. A small penance for the weight they felt on their shoulders for their cities. If Hana wanted to put D.Va down for a night, enjoy the company of an old flame as Hana? It would be their little secret. Their little downtime together.

...It sounds nicer the more she plays it through her head.

There was no denying that sporty, competitive side was still there though. She works his cock as if she had been starving for it – better than any meal they shared, more clued in and indicative of her loneliness than words could tell him if she had the nerve for that. Spit begins to seep past her lips from how messy she was, how unbridled she became in her desires to please him.

One hand keeps itself busy, rolling the bottom of her palm to cradle the weight of his balls, multi-tasking enough to jerk off the base of his cock where he somehow feels his stiffest. He's pent up, she thinks to herself, her eyes fluttering shut when she finds a rhythm that suits her.

She keeps going until she feels her jaw tense up – and she pulls back for a sweet capture of air in her lungs again. Spit connects them in the lewdest way possible, but her own lips in peppered, longing kisses to the crown of his cock was joining them back together. ]

– mmn, you should know that by now. Sounds like you'd underestimate me if I preformed any poorer... good thing for you, I don't know anything but –

[ So many words could be filled in there, but the confident girl didn't need to finish it. Her tongue snugly fits under shaft, bobbing her mouth back onto him with a kneading, soft squeeze to his sac.

Her words were sweet reminders of simpler times, of demeanors still good for this world... but her actions are what makes her quite the impressive girl.

Heroics and sex included. ]

[wareffort]

[ The pressure's building. Hana sees to that, noting the tension utterly radiating from Dick's body. He's like a fortress made of stress waiting to crumble as the cracks and fissures form on its foundations-- a bridge waiting to collapse, a boiler waiting to explode. Whatever he is, Dick's succumbing to the pressure induced by every one of Hana's efforts. Nude and on her knees in front of him, she presents a sight that keeps him upright and taut in her hand, susceptible to every stroke of her hand and suck of her lips. Every gesture serves to take him closer and closer to a pressure he can no longer withstand, a center that cannot hold. ]

I... I don't think there's a single world where I'd ever underestimate you.

[ Least of all here. Because that's pretty much the most he can say, the most words he can even think to say, as every pleasing sensation accumulates. Hana, in her unrelenting care, only takes Dick closer and closer to the inevitable. He feels it, too, anticipation building as clusters of nerves below his waist radiate with pleasure. The writing's on the wall, here, every sign pointing to the culmination of Hana's efforts. Dick's legs stiffen, every muscle tensing as he shudders in the pleasure of release, which he anticipates with gritted teeth. Desperately, he clutches Hana's shoulder, muttering, ]

Hana, please-- I'm almost--

[ He can't even finish his thought before he properly finishes, seed finally bursting from his tip. However Hana chooses to collect it all, there's now a haphazard array on her skin, scattering on her face and chest. The culmination, indeed, of so much tension. Evident not only in the amount, but in how far some of it flew. It's almost a little embarrassing to consider, Dick chuckling nervously at his own dishevelment-- the immensity of his own relief. ]

Okay.

[ Spent, he collapses into his gamer chair, crossing his arms behind his head to provide a makeshift cushion. ]

You wanted Play of the Game? Because you sure as hell got it.

[dva]

[ And fortunately, Hana prefers to build than destroy. To bring hope. Dick can expect as much as she tends to him, every longing sigh past her lips and every move she makes was with the hope she'd bring him to a fond memory. Back when things were good – where now... they can be better if they allow it.

Both of her hands find a home on his thighs, fingers dancing against his body to ease her motions. It was clear she doesn't know when to leave well enough alone and just settle on somewhere. Can you blame her? She wants it all – she wants him and she'd do things that feel dangerous even in the security of his little mancave to have it.

This isn't the time to hold back. Every second could be the last before his comms buzz him out for another mission or some certain monkey pings her OW device. Her mouth found a home to his shaft, deeper and deeper until she feels the resistance of his tip prodding the back of her throat. His pleads are the only thing that makes her pull back at the wrong time – where she's hit right against her cheeks usually peppered with pink warpaint.

Hana got only a few spurts against her lips, where she tongues away for a sweet treat and her panting seat between his legs feels natural at this point. ]

H-Hah... yeah? Glad to hear I still – nnn, still got it.

[ Her hand's up to thumb away at his seed from her jawline, a few smears on her collarbone is a poor way to wipe her reward away but – ]

Thanks for not making too much of a mess, but... this is nice, huh?

[wareffort]

What do you mean?

[ He knows what she means. The comfort of their intimacy, restored at last. The promise of a stable constant between them, despite an unstable world. Because despite the mess they've made of each other, the tryst that concludes their evening is cleansing. The weight of a yesterday that never was, a history they both yearned for and mourned, was finally lifted from their shoulders. Because now, only tomorrow is left. Tomorrow, with all its challenges. All its strife.

But also all its hope. If a better tomorrow can't be guaranteed, Dick's just gonna have to do the impossible again... like he's done many times. Whether with his colleagues in Gotham, the Titans, Overwatch-- despite all his success, he's forgotten more than he realizes. The Magistrate made him forget: these are worse odds than he's ever overcome, but Dick has to understand. His life has only ever been about escalation. Going from a Flying Grayson to Robin, then from Robin to Nightwing, and even Batman once or twice... Dick's no stranger to change.

To facing the impossible.

What's different, now, is remembering that taking the lead doesn't mean shouldering every burden. That he doesn't have to face the impossible alone.

Besides, he can't imagine a better person to face it with.

Hence Hana, whose shoulders he soon clasps with affection. Whose eyes he regards warmly, with something of a wistful smile. He was already enjoying the evening before now. But Hana's words, her own contentment, call attention to Dick's own. To the sudden awareness that for once, he can relax. He can ready himself to keep fighting the good fight, but for now, he can celebrate the win. ]

Okay. It is nice.

Maybe not "PS6" nice, but nice enough.

This all definitely calls for another shower, though.

[ He rises to his feet, stepping around Hana before offering a hand to help her up. ]

Then it's PS6 time. I promise.