A New Proposal

Summary:
October 26, 2014: Midnighter and Robin catch up and the former makes the latter an interesting offer.

Gotham

Gotham. Ew, Gross.


Characters

NPCs

  • Kate Bishop was in the scene and makes a cameo, but needed to leave early.

Mood Music:
[*<http://insert.video.or.music.link.here>]


Midnighter is never lacking in reasons to be roaming the rooftops of Gotham at night. While the smooth is drying up nicely, there's still some out there. The metahuman traffickers are still at large since he's only managed to dispose of the grunts so far. Vorpal's cat fairy is out here somewhere. And then there's just the regular crime that surpasses most of the US. He's not picky. Standing on the ledge of a building, hands in the pockets of his coat, he looks and listens for something to direct his attention to it.

"Yeah, it's pretty weak," Robin is sitting upon his BMX, spraypainted black, not too terribly far from Kate. It's a far cry from the Batmobile. "I got locked out of our headquarters, had my credit cards frozen, and I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to be wearing this outfit anymore. It wasn't a real pretty text message." Yes. Batman 'grounded him' via text-message. "So, if you were just fighting crime with me because of the car, it looks like this is it, Just Kate."

From a far distance one can see Kate just sort of walk away and Robin, for a moment, goes all slump shouldered. Guess that's that.

Not too far away, the sound of a voice catches Midnighter's attention. The costume is unmistakable. He steps off the building, catching the fire escape a few times just enough to slow his fall so that he can land in an easy crouch. "A slow night?" he asks, walking toward Robin. The body language is ignored for the moment.

Damian changes when he sees Midnighter. He leans back on the seat and twirls the wheel around. "Something like that. When you ride a bike, every night is slow. What's news, Midnighter?"

"They make too much noise, covering sounds you need to hear and alerting your prey." Midnighter states. "Though they are good for getting somewhere quickly." he allows. The one Waller requisitioned for him is useful at times. "Not a great deal. Your friend is going to look for the cat thing?"

"Not sure where she's going, to be honest." Damian only has one friend. "Well, I don't even have a motorcycle. Just this guy." He nods down to his bicycle. "But desperate times call for desperate measures."

"Which makes a bicycle more practical." was Midnighter's point. Maybe his hearing is good enough to have heard what Damian said. "A falling out with the bats?" Yup, seems so. "I've noticed I never see you with them but with others such as the Titans and her."

"Yeah, well," Damian sighs and shrugs, "I fall out with everyone on a long enough timeline. When people value nicety over efficiency, it's easy to do I suppose."

That actually gets a grin from Midnighter. "I'm familiar with that problem. Niceties are for social functions. Efficiency is for fighting. We're not out here to be nice but to help the people who need it."

"Then why are so many of us pussies?" Damian asks with raised eyebrows. The word probably sounds silly with his accent, but he has no other way to describe it.

"Social conditioning." Midnighter answers without needing to think. "Killing is bad. Killing people who kill is just as bad. Unless you're the government in which case you can kill as many people as you want. But they don't care about the people, just themselves and their power. We're the ones out here protecting the people who are trying to live their lives in peace. And throwing the criminals in jail so they can be out an hour later isn't working." He shrugs. "But they don't want to admit it and take responsibility."

"Their argument would be for justice. Aside from the corrupt system. That killing them makes us no better than them," Damian responds.

"Their argument is garbage." Midnighter counters. "That's where responsibility comes into it. I'm not preying on the innocent. No one forced the scum to be predators. I'm just disposing of the human waste who contribute nothing. And I'm willing to accept the responsibility of making that decision instead of passing the buck and keeping my hands clean."

Damian nods, shrugs and murmurs, "You against the world." It's the way he feels most of the time, truth be told.

"Not all of it." Midnighter shrugs. "Do you recall the time we first met here in Gotham?" As opposed to the time in New York Damian doesn't know was him. "I asked you name you go by. You said 'Ibn al Xu'ffasch'. I speak Arabic."

"I do," Robin replies non-committally. "I go by many names."

"Is that name meant to be taken literally? Are you the 'son of the bat'?" Midnighter asks, point blank, watching Damian.

Damian shakes his head, "More of an homage, I guess you might say. Ironic given the current circumstances."

Midnighter continues to study the young man but then nods once and lets the answer stand. "At one point in time, I used to work with others who didn't constantly whine at me about my methods."

"Used to. What happened," Robin asks, raising his eyebrow. "They take off on you too?"

"I got tired of the beaureacracy and officially retired." Officially being the key word since Midnighter just went solo down in Latin America. "The point being, I think you show promise. And working solo means there's usually a door on the other side of the building you're assaulting they can flee through."

"I have a lot more than promise," Robin says with a grin. "As far as solo work, I don't do much on my own. Hawkeye and I, plus the other bats. I do have people to rely on. Titans."

"Who will constantly whine at you about your methods." Midnighter points out. Damian might be holding back from killing people but he obviously did enough things to get disowned. "Not that I have anything against the Titans I've met beyond their misplaced idealism."

"Probably," Damian says with a nod. "But I haven't reached my threshold yet. I continue to be hopeful that there will be some middle ground." At the topic of the Titans, he snickers, "That's why I have my place with them. That's why they need me."

Dream on, kid. But who knows. "My point is, there are time I could use someone to go in through that other door." Midnighter tells Damian. "Someone who won't whine at me or worse, get in my way and possibly endanger themselves or any innocents."

"Hey, I'd love to work with you, but that'd make my homelife pretty difficult. Caught between a rock and a hard place," Robin says. "As soon as you go too far, that's going to be put me in a difficult position."

Midnighter shrugs lightly. "I don't go too far." he points out. "But it's your decision. In any case, the offer stands should you change your mind." He frowns a moment then adds "Vorpal knows how to get in touch with me if you need to." He really should set up some kind of message drop that doesn't involve Stormwatch.

Robin nods, "I'm sure our paths will cross. We tend to commiserate in the same circles."

Midnighter nods back and starts walking away. Not really big on meaningless niceties.

Once Midnighter heads out, Damian resigns himself to riding the bike. He pedals out slowly, looking all the world like the worst hipster superhero in America. All he's missing is the tight jeans.


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