trust what you're given

@nightstcrms | starter.

    the demon’s fist is not a particularly affectionate collection of children. understandably so, certainly, but it makes times like these difficult for mara, likely for most of them. there are things that should be said because even though they aren’t at the heart of this, the effects are felt everywhere. people are frightened at the possibility that their city is next. families are faced with the reality that loved ones in metropolis are gone. superman is  – well. mara won’t speak on something like that, can’t speak on it. 

   her team is…a family. will they ever admit to it ?? could they ever really interact in the same ways most families do ?? it’s not likely. but it’s still significant and it still brings forth something from mara when she returns to their base and sees nightstorm, alive and well, even though she already knew that he was, even though they’d have no reason to be involved in a city like metropolis. she stops just a few feet from the threshold of the door, somber and unnerved as she considers him. 

   “ i saw damian. it seems the bats are all accounted for. ” she doesn’t know why she chooses to start on that; it’s easier, maybe, factual. but her next words feel like lead in her mouth, “ are you – doing alright ?? where are the others ?? ” it’s uncomfortable, even in it’s simplicity, but she’s their leader and she’s doing what she can, what she thinks she should.

“ i’m fine, ” night assures her.  and it’s true, at times like these, night falls solidly back on his own apathy.  he’s never cared about metropolis or the sanctity of superman.  why should he start now ??  as long as mara and the others are alright, there’s no reason for him to think twice  he won’t admit to the panic that rushed him, sudden and terrifying as a thunderstorm in the summer. 

     “ they’re alive.  where, i’m not sure right now. ”  he knows that, at least, even if he had accidentally shorted out his phone making sure while nerves crackled tangibly through his fingertips.  again, he won’t admit to it.  

@nightstcrms | starter.

   “ there. ” on the map she’s laid out before him, there’s a multitude of red and black pen marks. cities circled and then haphazardly crossed out, names of heroes in alternating colors decorate the edges of different areas. it’s a map mara’s shown some considerable attention over the last week. not all heroes are quite as mainstream as the bat; finding a city without one hint of vigilantism stirring in it’s depths was not an easy task, but she’s done it. one way or another. 

    she moves from where she’s standing behind him and hops over the back of the couch, crouching beside night and pointing once more to a city name that’s circled three times in two different colors. “ this is where we can begin once more. with less complications in tow. ” she pauses and adds, “ it is known for it’s trouble, but nothing we could not handle. from what i can gleam, there’s no hero scene, no real villain scene. simply people doing foolish things occasionally. you wanted to leave – this is where we go. ” she waits for his reaction, values his thoughts on the matter more than she’d say aloud, but certainly he knows as much.

night’s heart is a strange staccato in his chest while he watches mara lay the map out before him.  he’s...almost shocked by the effort mara clearly invested in this.  the lists, the markings.  it’s taken hours of time to narrow it down so far.  index finger traces along the lines of the city’s name, thoughtful as he continues to stare at the map.  he turns to look at the side of mara’s face as he weighs his words.  night is not talkative by nature, but suddenly there are a thousand things he want to say.

“ then we go, ” nightstorm tells mara, and there’s a hint of optimism in it.  silly hope on his face that should have been snuffed out when he was still a child, but only for a split second.  they need this, need a new start so badly.  gotham && it’s many animal-themed inhabitants aren’t always horrible, but the demon’s fist is too big a personality to coexist.  

“YEAH – it’s just tradition, dude.” he explains with a shrug, then smiles softly. “well yeah – you could say that. i’m part of a group and we have some villains, plus being one of the flash fam i got some rogues who like to try and get a piece of this. oh, and there’s my evil clone who tries to kill me whenever he can.” he adds it like an afterthought, followed by a shrug. 

@nightstcrms

HE has no intention of running into any members of the demon’s fist. after all, he’s not even in his robin attire. however, he bumps into nightstorm and bounces back slightly, surprised that it happened at all. gotham is not that small. then again – maybe it is based on how often he runs into everyone else he knows. “tt.” 

the noise is a little annoying when mara makes it, and god does she make that ridiculous noise all the time, so when he has to hear damian make it, night would swear that some many-legged insect has taken a crawl up his spine.  blegh.  god, he can’t wait to leave this city behind for good.  god as his witness, nightstorm will never, ever look back.  the sound he gives in return is somewhere between a tired groan and a dismissive laugh.  “ hello, damian. ”  which is a remarkably docile greeting, all things considered.

garth nodded his head, not exactly being an expert when it came to small talk as he spent a lot of time keeping to himself. one of the most powerful atlanteans who could take down tons of enemies had a hard time engaging with the average person - it was funny to him also. “at least it’s good right.” he extended his hand. “i’m garth, it’s good to meet you.”

“BELIEVE it or not, you aren’t the only person to say that to me.” bart offers with a laugh, “you don’t look like someone who i’m supposed to kill. then again, i don’t kill.” he replied shrugging softly. “my kind? oh! like speedsters? nah, dude. it’s tradition. we love lightning bolts. it’s like the symbol of the speed force.” 

“If I wanted off brand asshole Robin I would go find the kid myself, so I guess we’re both disappointed.” He’s so done with these kid rejects who think they can come into his city and boss him around like he’s stupid, like Talia herself didn’t bring him back to life and lead him to the all caste. He rolls his eyes though the gesture is useless under the helmet, resists every urge not to pull both of his guns. “I don’t give a damn if you wanted Nightwing, he isn’t here and you’re in my territory. So you answer to me. The Red damn Hood.” 

nightstorm actually has to stop and blink for a second.  if he was so inclined to the sort of theatrics it would require, he would laugh in the boy’s face without hesitation.  instead, his expression goes curiously blank.  no trepidation, no amusement, no anger.  just a blank slate as he regards someone that he’s only just now learning is called the red hood.  

     ( it would be immature of nightstorm, of course, to point out that jason is nothing to him.  nothing to the demon’s fist.  and, perhaps most damningly, nothing to the league either.  he’s less than a pawn.  he’s as empty of a gesture as a bouquet of roses between lovers.  a token from talia to the batman of gotham, and what’s worse, a token that could not even operate as expected.  as far as nightstorm, and at least half the league, is concerned, the resurrection of some poor baby bird speaks more to a weak will on talia’s part than of anything special or interesting about him. )

   but nightstorm has never been one to waste his breath on someone so far below him.  a flash of anger in his veins, white hot like lightning, makes him wonder if he should expend the minimal effort it would take to lance him through the heart with a bolt of electricity.  or the even smaller amount effort it would take to run him through with a sword.  but then again, this isn’t really the red hood’s territory.  it’s batman’s, isn’t it ??  and while nightstorm has never properly heard of the red hood, he has heard of batman.  that’s enough to stay his hand for the moment.  

WATCHING THIS GUY try and order a coffee was like watching a newborn deer try and walk across a frozen pond. ( okay, mia, time to tell lian that watching bambi forty times in a day is probably too much. ) but it’s very much like a trainwreck– no matter how gruesome or horrible it is, you just can’t look away. it takes everything in her not to burst out laughing at the utter outrage in some old man’s face when this guy pushes past him and she’s trying to twist her features back into some sort of blank mask- like she wasn’t about to laugh at him- when he comes over to the counter. mia’s hands freeze over the cinnamon shaker she’s reaching for and however awkwardly cute and funny this guy was before, the tone he turns her way has her eyes narrowing. “oh? would it?” then, because mia is capable of being a giant asshole, she moves as slowly as she can to reach for the shaker, her eyes never leaving his. of course, she doesn’t check out of the corner of her eye where the shaker is and misses it by a good inch. her hand shuffles for a second before she finds the shaker and then the slow movement is back, pulling her hand back with said shaker, a blonde brow quirking up. 

   really, truthfully, honestly -- nightstorm longs for the days he had never stepped foot in a coffee shop.  for all the bullshit handed out by the league, at least coffee was never such a pedestrian task.  then he remembers that this is a lawless town with no consequences, so he makes like he’s grabbing for the shaker from her hand and levels a nasty shock instead.   

      she understands in many ways, sees the little ticks of frustration that’s building up every time they have to hold back. it’s different for mara, surely, since she’s no such metahuman, but there’s still so much of her that’s being constricted in a city so overrun by caped crusaders. it doesn’t make answering night any easier, however. mara doesn’t know. it kills her to even admit it, but it’s the truth. no place is safe from the league, truly. heroes run so rampant that every city seems to have some new masked vigilante cropping up by the day. 

   “ every city is a city of heroes. ” although how much these heroes are wanted there seems to be fluctuating lately. either way, mara knows night has a point. they don’t belong in gotham, not really. extending their stay only invites trouble. “ perhaps you’re right. there’s little for us here. we’ll talk with the others tonight. ” she sighs, moving her scarf further up her chin as the wind whips around them. “ it would be…good to find a new place. one with no heroes. no – complications. ”

it shouldn’t surprise night anymore.  it’s not new, but he still preens a little whenever mara takes his advice into account; it’s gratifying.  if he was more inclined to touch, he’d squeeze her shoulder, or something, in acknowledgement.  as it is, he just gives a little hum of assent instead.  “ yes, but this one is overrun with bats, and that has to be worse than the average city. ”  he thinks that part of his distaste for batman and his not-so-jolly followers is that they all feel dangerously close.  damian, cassandra.  lives that, in another reality, they could have had.  

it’s enough to drive nightstorm crazy. 

garth tried coffee during his time when he first joined the titans, being pressured by wally west and it was hard telling that man no. the line was long but the efficiency of the shop was something he’d never witnessed before. garth ordered his usual drink before moving to the area where he could add sugar to sweeten his drink more. a sudden and aggressive voice behind him  made him turn around to see if he was taking too long. “the lines here can be crazy, right?” garth said, choosing to ignore the aggression and not fuel whatever was going on. “i was at the door like those people are right now and had my drink in hand within seven minutes.” 

      she can’t blame him. it’s freezing. her ears hurt. even the ridiculous bundle of clothing she’s layered does little to ward off gotham’s winds. perhaps that’s why it’s not as amusing as it might have been otherwise to hear night’s grumbling as they leave the crowded coffee shop. “ go to russia. ” she deadpans, shoving past a stranger on their path, “ this city will be a paradise even at it’s coldest. ” that said, mara doesn’t have a decent answer for nightstorm either way. the league knows they are here now. they have no desire to work alongside batman and his children. there’s little left here for them. “ where else would we go ?? ” she counters.

   maybe he will go to russia.  they could brush up on their russian, what’s so wrong with that ??  ( other than the cold, of course. )  nightstorm shoves his hands down into his pockets and tries not to sulk of a lack of answer he gets from mara.  mara, who’s always got some sort of a plan.  surely she has a better answer somewhere.  “ anywhere.  it’s a city full of superheroes, it’s -- ”  the very last place on earth they belong ??  “ it doesn’t make sense to stay in this place.  maybe anywhere else is better ?? ”