all things must evolve

The crowd was dense, their fear palpable. Jono could feel it radiate off of them in waves as he directed a group towards the ice bridge. So far, so good - he sincerely hoped that it stayed that way, for their sake, but knowing the city and who liked to call it home, he did have some serious doubts that the calm would remain without a storm.

Without warning, he was jostled, and he reacted with instinct to keep the figure from falling into the crowd. The familiarity of the woman’s face surprised him, though Jono should have known by now that it really was a ‘small’ world. His gaze softened at her joke and he eased her up until she was vertical again. “It’s starting to look that way, luv,” he teased back with hands by her side to steady her amidst the throng of bodies. “You here to join us ‘cross the bridge to Narnia, then?”

“More or less,” she replied. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked around at the crowd, as if she was a little flustered, a heat rising to her cheeks that gave her a flush in the cooled air near the ice bridge. She was sure she looked perfectly imperfect under the streetlights, hair tousled in just the right way to accentuate her high cheekbones and full lips. 

She bit her lip lightly, her gaze shifting to the crowd again before she looked back into Jono’s eyes. “I couldn’t just stay at home and do nothing. And I don’t really have anywhere else to go, so...” She shrugged her shoulders. “I just wanted to make myself useful, you know?” She took a few steps backwards towards the center of the crowd. “I could always use a little company, though.” She just barely batted her long eyelashes at him. 

Talia, after sending Issac on a little errand for her, decided that this would be the perfect time to see Jono again. She knew that he would most likely be working to protect the District, so that was where she went that night, helping people find their way out of the District and out of the city. Even though she couldn’t care less what happened to these people, she knew Jono would, and she knew it was only a matter of time until they saw each other. 

She looked up through the crowd to see him and immediately pushed her way through to “accidentally” bump into him, practically falling into his arms before looking up at him with a charming smile. “I really need to stop running into you like this. You’re going to think that I can’t even walk without help,” she joked, letting out a small, nervous laugh.

Talia waited on the rooftop with her hands clasped behind her back, her index finger tapping lightly at her wrist as she waited for Issac to appear. It was always good to take advantage of chaos when it happened, and she had no fear about the Joker’s plan. In Talia’s view, his arrogance and unpredictability were sure to be his downfall as he went up against the cabal of heroes she was sure were rushing in to save the day. This gave her an opportunity to focus on other things. 

A new member of the board of directors for a company as large as Wayne Enterprises, especially one with a relatively mysterious background as Talia’s, was sure to make news. She had backstopped her backstory as much as possible—which was a great deal, especially with the reach that the League had across the country and the world, setting Tara Ali’s background as an investor in Dubai looking to reach out across the ocean and gain more power in her portfolio. She walked into the Gazette office and put her sunglasses on top of her head, giving the receptionist her most charming smile. “I’m looking for Ms. Lane. Can you tell me where to find her?” 

Talia looked over Chou’s apparent apprentice with an appraising gaze, her eyebrow raised from behind her half-mask that covered the lower half of her features, her hood, for now, resting around her shoulders. She still needed to be careful who saw her true face, especially with everything that she was trying to do when it came to Wayne Enterprises. Her cover couldn’t be blown. 

She interlaced her fingers lightly in front of her, humming lightly in approval. “Chou speaks very highly of you,” she said, tilting her head slightly to the side. “I was his teacher, many many decades ago. I’m glad to see that he is passing on his knowledge.” Whether or not it was to a worthy pupil remained to be seen. 

-

Chou, for all his mastery of illusions, had never been able to match Talia’s smile. Instead he used his youth as his defence, a beguiling innocence came easy to him. Though the skill was lost before his old teacher, she’d seen him use it many times, occasionally on her other pupils. It would be folly to attempt it here.

Chou knelt and took his own tea, taking a small sip, savouring the complex flavours and gently placing the cup down before answering. “Indeed. I have made great headways in my homeland and left those I trust to continue my work. The chaos of this city made it an easy starting point. Already my product is a favourite among many here.” he chuckled lowly, “They have taken to calling it Djinn, and they pay handsomely. All proceeds of course being distributed to heal this planet.”    

Talia nodded as she listened to him, already thinking of ways that they could go into business together. It was easy enough; not even Chou had the reach for as many skilled fighters as Talia had in her arsenal. It was a simple enough lack that Talia could fill, and in return, access to his facilities would be more than enough. 

“True enough. The world has changed significantly since I started this crusade of mine.” Humanity had advanced, technology had advanced, and things were global in a way he’d not needed to account for half a century earlier. He would never go so far as to say he stood no chance against them. If he’d given into that idea then all of it was hopeless. No, it was not that he stood no chance, but that it would be easier if he was allowed to focus more fully on dealing with fewer things at once. Perhaps she and her League could provide that.

There was the barest shift in his expression. “I did not know.” And it did change things. He still wanted concrete proof of something, to see them in action, be shown what she could or was willing to provide, but if she was metahuman then they were more firmly on the same side than he’d believed moments earlier. There was a unity in being what they were that was innate. Even if she wasn’t a mutant, there was enough commonality for Erik to know they shared more than he could with any human.

While he would never foolishly advocate for peace as Charles had so often done, Erik’s goal had stopped being the utter decimation of humanity. It was the elevation and survival of mutantkind - engineering a situation in which they could not only live, but thrive. Eventually, that would necessitate the removal of human beings. The two ideas were incompatible, but he’d shifted his focus more toward his people and less on being rid of humans first. “Then we work quickly.” 

Talia held her cup of tea elegantly between her fingers, tapping her index finger lightly against the plain china as she listened to Erik speak. Erik, like her, had lived more than what was deemed particularly natural for humans, and more than that, they expected to live for quite some time longer. It was up to them and those like them to make sure that the future was secured for their kind and for the earth as a whole. Without their guidance, the earth would surely fall into ruin, and Talia wasn’t about to allow that to happen. 

She nodded. “I have lived many lifetimes now,” she replied. “The Lazarus Pit, if you have heard of it, imbued my spirit with immortality.” It wasn’t necessarily the same thing as being born mutant, like Erik, but she was certainly not a human anymore, either. She lay somewhere in the gray spaces, just like her morals, and it was clear that humanity was no longer where her loyalties lay. She didn’t care much for them, pillaging the earth as they had done for generations. Talia had watched it happen, and under her father’s iron fist, she had been unable to do anything. Now, however, was different. She was free to do as she wished. 

In all honesty, Jono was a little apprehensive about the way she was acting, but he also knew that people reacted to trauma and stress differently. Some more erratic than others, dangerous even, to themselves and those around them. He saw it far too often for his liking, but he was always willing to help unless the situation got sticky; he was never the best at keeping his cool when it got tough. Still, he would try for her in this moment.

Her words gave him the impression that maybe she was suicidal, or just looking for someone to help her through whatever mess that was going on in her head. Regardless of the reason, it was a little worrying on his part and he didn’t feel right just letting her wander off on her own — not in this state. Jono held up his hands passively, hoping that might help to reassure her and keep her from flying in her frazzled disposition.

“Just take a breather, luv, I don’t mind listenin’ if you need to talk. Ah’ve been told I’ve got a good ear, just not too good with talking myself.” He gestured towards his facial coverings, before he spotted a bench nearby; he would have offered to take her into the district, but he had no idea who this woman was. “How ‘bout we grab a seat and you can tell me all about when you should’ve died?”

///

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She pulled back her jacket, revealing a bloody bullet hole in her shirt over her chest, though her chest was unblemished underneath. It had been easy enough to fake—Talia had a plan when she had come here and she was going to execute it flawlessly. “These muggers, they shot me, and...and I didn’t die. Look it’s—” She ran her fingers over the smooth skin underneath. “It’s gone. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know why—I’m—” She swallowed once. “I shouldn’t be alive right now but I am and I think I need...I think I need help.” 

Lies upon lies, but Talia was good at selling them. The reason she was so good at it was because when she told a lie, she believed it. She didn’t just pretend, she embodied the lie and lived through it. She was certain that she could use this to her advantage, that he was going to take pity on the poor metahuman who didn’t realize she had powers, and then would be her time to turn the tables. Then, she would be able to pull him into the fold. 

Damian let out a loud ‘tch’ when Talia dismissed his jumbled thoughts as an excuse for losing her in the pursuit. Talia didn’t understand. She didn’t know what had transpired - didn’t know what this city had done to undo his progress or just how much like her he had become in the past year alone. It made the teen’s jaw clench tightly. Finally, he couldn’t help his outburst. “I am not weak!” He stated. “You don’t have any idea what I’ve done for my family, Mother. How many people lost their lives….” He shifted his position slightly as she offered his position at her side. 

Ra’s being dead wasn’t exactly anything new - Damian was used to hearing about the man’s death and then subsequent rebirthing some time later. From the way Talia spoke, however, it sounded as if this death was more permanent. Damian honestly didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about that. He had spent just about equal time with the League as he had with his Father and family now. “Never.” He snarled out. “No more. I don’t want to kill anymore, Mother.”

Talia raised a brow. “Don’t raise your voice at me, child,” she said simply, her voice deadly calm. She was always like that—deathly calm when she was at her most angry. Damian, she was certain, remembered that. He probably remembered her by her old face, by her old ways, and while her face may have been new, her ways remained largely unchanged. Talia cocked her head to the side. “Collateral damage,” she replied. “How many people are going to suffer in the path of your father’s crusade?” Talia had always found Bruce’s methods to be antiquated, unable to see the full scope of an issue. 

.

“That’s how we’re playing?” he called out as he saw her draw the blades. Over his shoulder, Jason had situated the Daab Song Mue that Rose had gifted him. He’d been practicing with them since his birthday, and had temporarily abandoned Deathstroke’s stolen katana in favor of carrying the matching pair. He pushed the Kris back into its place against his thigh and let the twin swords catch the light as he drew them. “Mine are bigger.” 

He had just put his body forward to take that first strike when the woman said that name. It did give him pause, just for a bare second. “Am I supposed to care?” he shot back, bringing the blades up in a block maneuver. It was pre-emptive, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew he’d given her a window for something. “Did she send you because she misses me that much?” Once he got the opportunity, he finally took a strike, slashing one of the blades down in a hard arch where the blade would’ve met her chest if it landed. He didn’t expect it to. She was too good to lose to a first swing. 

Talia visibly rolled her eyes at his taunt, not caring much for the way that men always needed things to be bigger, bolder, more brash. It was one of her father’s fatal flaws, that he always needed to be grandiose in his gestures. Subtlety was an art that eluded him, and it seemed to elude Jason as well. Not that it was particularly surprising—he had never been subtle, not even when he was recently revived and under Talia’s guidance. 

The sharp, disgusted tone had the hair on the back of Damian’s neck standing on end and his fists curling into tight balls at his side. At first he wasn’t sure he had heard her correctly, but as she continued speaking it was crystal clear who he was speaking with. “A lot has happened in the past few months. My thoughts are distracted, mother. You would know that if we had any sort of relationship.” He fired back at her with the same tone lacing his words. When the woman remarked about his father’s training, however, he let out an audible growl. 

“Father has been teaching me just fine! My family has taught me more than you and grandfather ever would have.” The words came out snappily and he turned every ounce of his attention upon the woman as she dropped and regarded him from behind her mask. “What the hell are you doing here?” He stated sharply - fighting his instincts to soften up around the woman. Though he tried to drown it out, there was still some part of him that would always long for some semblance of acceptance from his mother, despite choosing his own path and not the one she had laid before him.

“And that is an excuse for forgetting your training? For sub-par work?” Talia wasn’t buying it, that much was clear from her tone. Her posture straightened, unfazed by Damian’s words. She had never bought much into kindness so much as firmness when it came to parenting, and if her son wanted to hate her, that was fine. She, even though she hadn’t been involved in Damian’s life since he was young, felt some sort of claim over him still, and she wasn’t willing to give that up. She expected nothing less than the best from him, and she was making that very clear. 

She had heard of Midnighter before, of course—Talia liked to keep track of fighters with the skill to beat her, which numbered few and far between after her centuries on earth. She was intrigued by him; she wanted to be able to see him up close, to understand him in the same way she understood her own assassins. And, mainly, she wanted to get. him on her side. If there was someone out there who could beat her, the obvious choice was to have them join her. 

Talia was in her League garb, only her green eyes practically glowing from behind her mask and hood, accompanied by a few of her assassins who kept a practical yet respectful distance from her. She cocked her head to the side. “You’re a hard man to find,” she said, knowing full well that he would not only have caught her coming from a mile away, but her assassins as well. 

-

He didn’t move until given permission to do so and rose elegantly to his feet, though the motion was unhurried. He’d always been that way, never rushing unless circumstances called for it. He inclined his head at the other’s compliment and chuckled quietly and reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “As do you. One would never guess out true ages, hmm?” Though she was a great deal older than him, both should have been dead and buried long ago by the natural laws.

“Oh?” he asked, tilting his head lightly, “In that case, we’d best move to an area more suiting discussion. Please, come into the building, I have tea brewing for us and we shall see what I can do for you.” He had little right to refuse unless her request were unreasonable, though there wasn’t much he considered to be beyond him.  

“I would certainly hope not,” Talia replied with her signature crooked smile. There was never a way to truly know what was happening behind that smile, whether it was malicious or benign, whether she was showing all her cards or hiding her deepest secrets. It was one of her deadliest weapons, that Mona Lisa smile. 

The clatter of footfalls echoed on the pavement of the alleyway that evening as Damian pressed himself in a solid sprint. He had lost sight of the figure he had seen - a suspicious character surveying an area from a higher vantage point. They hadn’t seemed familiar and that warranted investigation. As he had chased them up and down building sides and through abandoned complexes, he had somehow lost them. That infuriated him and he finally came to a skidding halt as his alleyway ‘T’-connected with another alley.

“Damnit!” He spat with a pant to his breath. The teen growled at himself as he leaned back against the nearest wall and tried to catch his breath once more. Whoever that had been, they were fast and Damian had to give them respect for their ability to lose him. Or perhaps he was just out of practice. He hadn’t been on any form of serious patrol in weeks. Exercising and keeping a routine was one thing, but actually going out and hitting the streets each night was another entirely. The male dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone; the screen illuminating his face in the dark alleyway as he checked the time - taking note of his lack of signal as well. He must have ran to a dead zone part of the city. 

@evolutionofthedemon

Talia, upon realizing her son was the one chasing her through the streets, decided to play a little game with him. If he was able to keep up with her, then she would know that all that training and time spent molding him into the perfect assassin would not be for nothing. Unfortunately, he failed her test, and she watched from a couple of buildings away as his chase ran cold in one of the many alleyways that crisscrossed this city. What a disappointment. Talia was in her League gear, her face carefully concealed, lest someone realize her true identity, and she jumped over the two rooftops to get closer to Damian.