rubycity_ooc | June Test Drive~!

Entry tags:

June Test Drive~!

Thinking of apping a character but not sure they'll fit in the city walls?

Have no fear, a meme for you is here.

Directions:

Post with your character with their name and canon on top!

Choose a location and prompt or wait for someone else to tag.

If you'd like, leave contact info for people to get in contact for plotting and other such shenans.

Tag around! Make friends. Don't be afraid to chat OOC while tagging.

Locations:

1. Train Station: New arrival, or waiting to welcome people? Either way, the train comes in, but you still can't ride it out.

2. Cathedral: Looking for redemption? Just doing a little sight-seeing? Or just getting a little shelter?

3. The Clocktower: You can see the whole city from here!

4. The Black Stallion Saloon: You were told the burgers were great here-- but maybe you just came for the beer.

5. The Library: You came to do a little research, but it looks like all of the information's just out of your reach. Though, you can always find a way to pass the time here.

6. The Coffee Joint: A lovely place to have a chat and a bite to eat.

7. Le Cafe Anglais: A Parisian-British fusion that's as charming as it sounds and serves the best tea around.

Scenarios

1. Just walked in: You intended to get here, and you made your way in; but now someone's caught your eye and you'd like to have a chat.

2. Been here all day: You've been sitting around minding the time. Maybe you didn't notice them at first or maybe you were just working up the courage to talk-- either way, they know you're here and you know it too.

3. Bad weather: You're here because you've gotten rained in. This wasn't your choice, but at least it's dry-- right?

4. Wild card: Got something better in mind? Well screw these prompts, try it out yourself!

Have fun, guys!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Loki is a dirty wafer-snatcher, so Damian feels entirely justified in fighting fire with fire, quickly snagging up a piece of Loki's dessert for himself and moving the last wafer on his plate solidly out of the god's reach in one honed two-handed maneuver.

Dinners with Grayson have taught him valuable new skills in the art of dining table warfare.

Unlike Loki, Damian doesn't give much thought to his relationships beyond two learned paradigms: that of master and servant (or equal), and that of ally and enemy (or acquaintance). He can like or dislike a person no matter where they sit on the graph; the teenager sits comfortably in the middle for the time being.

(The outliers, for now, are just Dick and Colin, in a little circle labeled friends.)

He tilts his head, making a face at the too-sweet taste of the ganache but determinedly stuffing it in his mouth because it is a retaliation maneuver, finishing off the other half of his mug soon after to lessen the intensity.

"Mother will probably execute me herself if we meet in the field again. It's how the League operates; if a soldier abandons their commander, all ties are cut and their life is considered forfeit. Father doesn't kill, so the worst that I face with him is being disowned."

His chin tilts up, leaning forward curiously.

"What of your mother? I've only read the standard lore, but she sounds like a queen amongst queens."

Loki made a token attempt to stop Damian from snagging some of his dessert, but recognized it for what it was. He smirked at the face Damian made upon taking a bite - really, Loki won again just there.

"Is your father a superhero, too?" he asked. Obviously Damian's mother was one of the assassins, and it sounded like his father was a different kind of person if he 'didn't kill'.

He smiled wryly. "The All-Mother are my bosses these days. Odin isn't around, so they rule Asgard. I'm working for them, doing missions for the benefit of Asgard, to make up for my former crimes."

"He is. The original Batman." Stop smirking, Loki, he ate part of your dessert and is entitled to some form of victory. "He didn't know I existed until--"

He purses his lips, thinks on it. He had been introduced to Bruce very shortly after his tenth birthday, and the eleventh is now only a few months off.

"Nine months ago. And he was dead for several of those months."

He chomps down the other half of his sandwich. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Who're the All-Mother?" He doesn't recognize the title. Then again, his knowledge of Scandinavian mythologies is a lot shakier.

"Original Batman? So your partner is your father's successor?" Loki asked, picking up his sandwich finally. Sorry Damian, it takes a greater power than you possess to stop Loki from smirking.

"I'm sorry for your father's death," he added. Not that the boy probably felt that much from it if they'd barely met.

"The All-Mother is a trinity. Gaea, Freyja, and Idunn." He cocked his head. "By the way, what's your actual name?"

"He is, sort of." Oh. His coffee is gone. Still, he plays with the mug, tipping it idly between his hands. "Thanks for the condolences, but they're unnecessary; he came back. Turns out he was trapped in the past by the evil god Darkseid."

Some things don't change between worlds. Ridiculous situations like that? Remain a constant.

(Still, Damian had mourned his father's death. He'd only personally known the man for two months, but it had upended his world.)

"Huh. The stories never mentioned them banding together." Perhaps they got tired of being politically sidelined by the male deities. It's the modern age, now. "My actual name?"

He tilts his head, considering.

"Ibn al Xu'ffasch al Ghul."

Son of the bat, a demon. The smirk on his face says, clearly, that the name is entirely useless in terms of secret identities.

"Or, it used to be."

"Oh, well I take it back, then," Loki teased wryly. Same old same old, then. The most powerful of the metahumans never seemed to stay down, and even if these people weren't metahuman, it wasn't surprising to him that the same held true for them.

He understood the translation easily, and smirks. "Son of the bat. That's good."

"So what it is, now?"

"I can't say." He purses his lips, irate. There's not much point to keeping it a secret, here, that much has become obvious, but...

"My name isn't my secret to give. It's my father's. Some people have found out--"

Too many. Through his own faults, and because Grayson.

"--but the less who know, the better."

He won't shy away from his father's anger, hasn't ever shied away from it, but it's better to try and keep the damage to a minimum.

Loki arches an eyebrow at this. How could it possibly matter here who knows his name? "Why?"

"Nobody who leaves Ruby City remembers their time here, but if, by chance, they did? My father has enemies. A lot of them. And if they knew mine? It's too easy to make the connection."

Paranoia has kept them safe this far. His father has a point, there.

"I don't agree with it, but it's one of his more important rules. If my partner thinks it's safe for us to ditch the masks and the titles, I'll be glad to." A grimace, and he drops his forehead to the mug, sighing. "Except I've had to wear this mask for weeks, all the time. I wouldn't even be able to show my face for months thanks to the stupid tan-lines. When my partner got here, he laughed at me!"

First-world vigilante problems.

Loki chewed the last bite of his sandwich as he considered this. He probably just couldn't relate. Everyone knew who he was, except when he didn't want them to. He didn't need to hide behind a mask, because at any moment he could shapeshift or cast an illusion to hide if he needed to.

Also, his family could kick a lot of ass, so it wasn't like he had to worry about their safety.

Buuuut, he could still have an opinion.

"I think you're taking this way too seriously. You can't wear a mask every day forever. And sooner or later people will find out no matter what you do. This place isn't that big."

"I know." Of course he does. It hasn't been easy, to keep things under wraps. "But if Father shows? I want him to see I tried. To do what he'd do. Without him, or my partner, there to handle me."

Determination lines his face, though the subconscious, defiant jut to his bottom lip makes it a little less forceful. This is a kid on a mission to, essentially, tell his father I told you so. For the sake of being right. Even if it means stupid tan lines and chafed skin from the adhesive.

"Besides, I like being Robin. I'm the best at it."

The mask is a persona in a lot of ways; a role he can play out, set by his predecessors. Just as he played out his role as heir to the League of Assassins.

Being just Damian Wayne? He doesn't know how to do that.

"If there's one thing I've learned, it's that if you're Robin, you're Robin with the mask on or off," Loki said.

He shrugged. "I've got a lot of experience with never being good enough for fathers. Either he'll see what you've done, and that you're smart enough to recognize the true situation here and adapt and be proud, or he'll keep you to the old ways like an obstinate fool and it won't matter if you tried or not if you failed. I don't know which sort of man your father is."

"I don't know either." Bruce could go either way. "But if nothing else, I'll know I did my best."

He has to draw his self-esteem from somewhere, but it won't be from depending on his father's approval; Damian's learned to take pride in his accomplishments in his father's absence. He's gotten better - better at being a detective, better at being a person, and he did that without the original Batman.

He grins, suddenly, over his mug.

"But still not telling you my real name. It has to be earned, and my standards are exacting."

Actually, it's only when he or Grayson have screwed up and misspoke. The only one he's told purposefully is Todd, and that was because Todd is Todd.

"Suit yourself," Loki said with a shrug, picking up his own mug again and taking a sip.

His eyes narrowed, and then he smirked. "You realize what this means, right?"

A little curious, a little suspicious. He squints at the other, blinking away and then back at him, lips twisting in a confused, crooked tilt.

"Not a clue." What is he smirking about?

"I'll just have to find out your name on my own," Loki said. He arched an eyebrow. "I wonder if your Batman friend calls you by name at home."

He waved a hand, and suddenly Damian was looking at Damian over the rim of his cup.

Oh, oh, that has him scowling, stiffening in surprise at suddenly seeing his mirror image sitting in front of him. But his reflexes are fast, hand on his watch and out of his seat, a beat away from alerting his partner.

He's been enjoying conversation with Loki, but he's not an idiot.

"Then I'll call him. One word, and he'll know." They have contingency plans on dealing with magic-users and copy-cats. It's kind of their thing.

Loki watches Robin leap up. He really is worried about this, huh?

The illusion flickers, a faint green shimmer running over Loki's face, as if he can't maintain it. And then Loki bursts out laughing, and the illusion vanishes completely. "Calm down, little bird! Do you really think I could fool your partner?"

The very definition of affronted, disgruntled frown and crossed arms, Damian squints hard at Loki as he laughs.

"No. Of course not. You're too smirky."

It's hard to replicate Damian's brand of strange, violent behavior. A single misplaced smirk would probably alert Grayson in a heartbeat.

Still, he stalks back over, huffy and maintaining his glare. He's annoyed with you, Loki. Taking his seat back also means an opportunity to throw out an irritated kick at Loki's knees.

Loki's pretty sure he could manage, but given Damian's reaction, he's not about to let him know that. Maybe he'll just stalk the kid for a bit, invisible. It'll be fun.

And then the foot connects with his knee, and he yelps, grabbing for the injury.

"Why does everyone kick me?!"

"Because you have long legs!" he snaps back, as if that's more than reason enough. How dare you, Loki. He's viciously satisfied by Loki's yelp, burned pride soothed.

"Also, because you were being a jerk." Had to pay the iron price. Damian doesn't hold a grudge, though; Loki was being an asshole, Damian got in a kick at him, the slate is now wiped clean.

"Why do you want to know my real name, anyway?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Loki complained, picking up his coffee again. He was over it quickly. Robin wasn't nearly as good at kicking as Miss America Chavez.

"Because," he said with a shrug. "You know my real name."

Also, names had power.

"It makes perfect sense."

To Damian, and Damian alone. Ten-year-old logic at its finest.

He frowns, rests his chin on his fist, unmoved by Loki's answer. Mainly because, through his familiarity with mythology, he's well aware the god has many names.

"And why isn't Robin fine enough? It's just a name. A thing to call me. Pragmatically interchangeable with the real thing, as long as I respond it and others recognize it as a reference to myself in conversation."

Loki rested his chin on his hand, too, deliberately copying Damian's position.

"Robin is a title, not a name. Sure, it's an identifier, but it's not the same." He shrugged. "Like I said - I'll find out. I am Loki, after all. You can't hope to stop me."

A haughty sniff.

"I'm not intimidated by gods. And even if you figure it out?" He turns his head, dismissive. "Go ahead and try. See if I respond to it."

He will straight up ignore Loki using his name until he deems him worthy of acknowledgment, out of sheer spite.

(no subject)

slashupontheinternet - 2014-06-21 04:25 (UTC) - Expand

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only