Sins of the Consort

Summary:
January 4, 2015: Ra's al'Ghul arrives in Gotham to stay, due to Veruca (and by proxy) Damian's mishap.

Undisclosed Location

Its big, yo!


Characters

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Mood Music:
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CREST HILL:

Cause that's where all the mansions are. While the one where Veruca and Damian currently took up residence wasn't as elaborate as the most, they had no need for such things because it was told.. by many.. okay. Just by herself, the world was their playground. They come and goe as they please.

This particular safe house was registered under one of the many aliases that were possibly held by The Ra's al Ghul. Three bathrooms, six bedrooms, a large kitchen that would make the most prominent of foodies blush, dining room, main room complete with a burning fire to keep the place warm through winter nights.

While there were a few of the League on call, milling around the manse, three of them guarded the door which led to Veruca and Damian's room.

The doctor was out, after hooking her up to various IV's, patch work was expertise but there was blood that needed to be had. The bag hung upon the rack along with the morphine that was almost empty, both being pushed into an almost broken body much to her annoyance.

The emergence of this was thus: You do not battle a god and walk away unscathed. But she felt that she had won. Broken ribs, collarbone, possibly a hairline fracture within the ankle that came from the battle with the Nepalese tiger that was irritated in the fight with the Sun Eater and the shower that she had hours before. She collapsed unconscious, unable to be roused for now, which was probably better. Treatment would have been refused.

There was no telling where Damian was at this point, but Veruca was there. Two of them. One laying in the bed next to the original as the other copy hung by the window as such.

"Get away from her. She wouldn't like that. You're not /him/." One says.

The other? Just looked at the copy-sister and hissed all smug.

"She can stay," Damian says as he enters the room and looks to the copies with a nod. "The more the merrier, I say. Having many Veruca's is even better than having just one."

His black, gloved hand peers out the window, a habit of paranoia he developed as a child. Funny, most would still consider him a child in many ways. But it's clear that Damian is a full grown killer, at this point. Detached. Lethal. And whatever he did, and wherever he went…It was a good presumption that he was up to some sort of revenge.
Suddenly, from just outside the door a series of grunts and thumps sounds, followed by the tell-tale noise of a pair of bodies dropping heavily to the ground. Barely a second of silence passes, before the door crashes open and one of the three guards outside Veruca's room comes hurtling through it, unconcious and bleeding. A slight sigh of steel passing over oiled leather sounds from the sudden blackness of the hallway as a figure from just outside draws a blade and steps into the room.

Ra's al Ghul himself, with Ubu just behind.

For a brief moment, his eyes pass over everything in the room, then they find Damian and he advances, driving his sword point towards the boy's shoulder.

Veruca-1 gives but a passing glance towards Damian, much as the original had done. Leaning against the sill to look out the window just as he did moments ago. Her movements were fluid then, drawing herself closer to Damian, one hand resting upon his shoulder, not a look of concern so much as curiousity plaguing her features. "Where have you gone, Nightmare?"

Before the question was answered, the thumping sounds were heard and immediately she withdraws, skirting towards Damian's front.

'Protect him!'

'She's sleeping.'

'It does not matter!'

The heart monitor that was attached to the real Veruca's finger picks up, the beeping sounds drawing off in a rapid-fire state.

If Ra's was close enough, the sword point would pierce through Veruca-1's shoulder, shattering her in an instant, while the last remaining copy hisses.. and stops. Then promptly kneels.

As the fake Veruca shatters into a million pieces, at the floor in front of his feet, Damian looks incredulously at his grandfather. Irate, but in shock. He draws his own sword, but more as a defensive measure than anything else. "Grandfather!" he exclaims, the youth coming out within him. "What is the meaning of this?!"

Ra's doesn't seem to care that his sword finds Veruca's clone instead of his grandson, his face a mask of calm as he twists the blade in her shoulder just before she shatters. As soon as his sword is free, though, he turns and drives a single booted heel towards the kneeling Veruca clone's face, "On your feet and defend yourself, or I'll kill the original."

Though Damian's sword is drawn defensively, it seems, Ra's still lashes out with a brutal slice towards his chest in the same instant his kick lashes out at Veruca-2. "You as well, boy. You're no used to me if you're unable or unwilling to fight. So /fight/."

The boot was caught with the face of Veruca-2, but not lethal enough for her to shatter. She rolls with the powerful kick, and within that roll she transforms into something more ghastly, much like the original would. Long fingers scrape the carpet to rip fabric, powerful legs bending at the crouch.

He threatened her, more importantly, threatened him. And the glass that protrudes from her pale flesh was soon ripped asunder and gripped like daggers.

"Get awaaaay from him…" She hisses, her only ties to Ra's was Damian alone. And if the intent to kill was evident, that tie would have been tossed out the window as such.

There wasn't much room for her to charge, granted the manse was massive but the room they were in was not, she was coming at Ra's side, glass-blade-daggers akimbo to cut and slice.

If a fight is what his grandfather wants, a fight is what Damian will give him.

The strike towards his chest is parried easily, the blade knocked upwards, and leaves Damian in an excellent position for a counter attack. He spints slight and brings his leg upward to drive his heel towards the weak part in Ra's armor, the under arm. He hopes to knock the man off-kilter, and buy himself some time to figure out what in the heck is going on.

Outnumbered — for Ubu stands silently blocking the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him — Ra's momentarily takes the defensive. As his strike his parried and his blade angles up, he takes a step, knowing full well Damian's ability to take advantage of such an opening. Rather then stepping forward, however, he steps sideways /towards/ Damian, and raises his unarmed hand to grab for his grandson's kicking leg in an attempt to throw him off balance and send him careening towards the oncoming train of glass death that is Veruca. "Silence, girl! You are an assassin, not a blood-crazed thug. If you want me to get away from him, let your actions speak, not your words."

Now there was a thought. Veruca an assassin? As of now, the heartrate monitor still fires rapidly in a sense that she was turning over in her grave.

Damian's snatch and toss was effective for her, the glass dagger-shards tossed towards the ground to mark the path she was destined to take, both hands catching Damian at the back. It was like he was being treated as a ping-pong, the effect of shoving him forward provided cover enough for her to ..

/slide/.

And that she does, cause Veruca loves sliding, against the carpet no less, the slick bondage that she wears giving her a decent yet slowed advantage as glass daggers were snatched and thrown in the interm, booted heels aiming to take out his ankles to bring Ra's to the ground to face /her/.

Damian feels the hand upon his legs, can feel the change in the momentum that his father is trying to push upon him. Instead of fighting it, he uses it to his advantage.

He's about to leap off of his grandfather, use the momentum to carry him up towards the wall, but it seems as though Veruca has something else planned.

When she catches him, Damian goes along with the slide. As soon as they come to a stop, he's up running once more. He leaps onto the far wall, catching his foot at the perfect spot when he vaults himself into a large backflip arc. Veruca attacks from chest height; Damian attacks Ra's from above.

For the first time, the pair actually get a reaction from Ra's. At the coordinated, and spontaneous attack, he raises a single eyebrow in mild surprise and takes a single retreating step, his blade a blur of motion as he deflects the majority of daggers, leaving his armor to defend him against the rest. All the same, one or two find their mark in his ankles, but aside from the steady but slight stream of blood that now oozes from the wounds, he makes no reaction.

During the hail of glass, Ra's hardly has time to defend against Damian's attack with his over worked blade, so with a sudden flick of his wrist, he pulls a throwing knife free from a hidden sheathe in his wrist and flicks it towards Veruca. The real Veruca. It's not a deadly throw, intended more to maim then kill, but left alone, it will certainly do damage. As soon as it leaves his fingertips, another is in hand, but rather then throw it, he brings it up to meet Damian's attack at an angle and knock it aside, the leverage too poor to outright stop his sword. Even as he defends and attacks, the Demon show's his centuries' long skill and snaps out another punishing kick, this one intended for the predicted spot that Damian will end his backflipping journey.

Veruca-2 was running out of glass; the ones she pulled from her body in rapid succession were deflected and shattered. All that she had left was the claws upon her hands, which were soon extended, splayed to the attack.

While Damian was high, she attacked at the chest as such, arms drawing outward and inward at a downward strike, wanting to cut arms, armor, whatever she could get at so she could grind his meat to the bone.

But what she didn't see, was the dagger. Sailing towards the real Veruca. That was going to hurt.

Damian knows that he has one choice. Focus on the kick his grandfather is about to give him, or defend Veruca at a point of invulnerability.

It's unclear whether or not his grandfather realizes how close to death she has from her battle with the werewolf. It's unclear if he cares.

But Damian certainly does. Knowing he's going to get drilled, His left hand flares out, throwing a knife of his own at a downward tilt in an attempt to knock that thrown by his grandfather into the ground.

Once he reaches his feet, there is no time. The foot of Ra's drills the thin young man directly in the chest. He, who with such serpentine motion had flown about the room, staggers awkwardly backwards, trying to grab his breath. His katana goes flying, as does he has he backs into the top of the bloody white sofa. The pressure, low on the back of his legs, takes them out from under him and sends him end over end onto the floor at the front of the couch.

Ra's has no time to spare to make sure Damian's out of the fight, not with Veruca-2 barreling towards him still. "You lack awareness, girl. If you had been paying attention, Damian might have been able to defend himself," Ra's calmly explains to the raging glass clone as if lecturing a room of politely listening children. As he does, his blade slashes outwards, responding to Veruca-2's furious attack with one of his own, intending to knock her off balance with sheet overpowering force, before he lashes out with an unarmed fist to grasp her by throat and flip her bodily over his shoulder towards Damian and the couch. If successful, he sheathes his blade and settles casually into a nearby chair. If he fails, well then he simply keeps lashing out with his blade until he can find an opening in Veruca-2's defense.

There was a moment of spite within her at that moment once she realizes that /she/, the main her, would have been hurt even more. There also was a moment of anger at Damian being tossed. Revenge. She seeks it, and there was a point where she was going to veer off from Ra's to attack his precious Ubu. But, that wouldn't come to pass.

The slash hits her, cutting her at an angle from hip to shoulder, the sound of glass cracking heard instead of the spill of blood.

She was gripped by the throat and thrown, and luckily, lands upon the couch where no further damage would come to said copy. The horrible visage that she held slowly fades away, but her skin slowly cracks with each faux breath she takes. But she wasn't going to fall apart yet, she at least wanted to hear what this was all about. Relaying information and all of that.

Clutching his chest, Damian stands from behind the sofa to glare at his grandfather. He bends low to pick up his sword with a wince, hopeful that there is nothing broken inside of him. If this is some sort of a joke, then he would certainly not be pleased.

Ra's pays no attention to Damian re-arming himself, and instead snaps a finger at Ubu. The giant of a man finally breaks his vigil and moves over to drag the still unconscious guard from the room before he drops him in the hall and closes the door. Finally, Ra's turns back to face Damian and Veruca, silent for a few seconds, until he finally begins to speak at length. "Count yourselves lucky. Were you not my grandson and his chosen consort, you would be dead. As it were, I wanted to make sure you still had the intelligence necessary to defend yourselves," he starts, harshly as he pulls at the fingers of a pair of blood-stained gloves still clinging to his hands. To Veruca, if she was paying attention, he might look strangely younger then the last time they met — his hands less wrinkled, his arms more finely muscled. To Damian, it's no doubt a recognized phenomenon of knowing the immortal Ra's al Ghul. "I am not blind, nor deaf, no matter how far you travel from me. I know what you've been up to. I know /who/ you've been fighting. I'm curious… Did you ever stop to /think/ that we wouldn't /want/ the attention of a god?" As he speaks, he doesn't get louder, but his voice certainly seems angrier, each emphasized word practically a sharp whisper. "In fact, did you stop to think at /all/?"

Veruca-2 was just barely holding herself together. She kept her own hand against her chest to rub and work in the magics.. or the voodoo that keeps her present. But.. she couldn't take it.

Once the question was posed, she remained tight lipped, one hand holding up as if to say, 'Hold on', as she calmly stands from the couch. Into the bathroom is where she goes.. the sound of shattering glass heard.. and out comes a new clone, this time, her hair was down, fingers digging into her scalp as she lets out a sigh of relief.

"For the record, -I- held the attention of that god the moment I drew the blade through Damian's back." T'was true. "I did not know it at the time and for that." Was she sorry? Hell no.

The heart-monitor that was attached to Veruca slows, little by little. With the fight over, she had nothing to worry about. Probably.

Damian sheathes his blade. In truth, he'd hoped that Ra's al Ghul would not find out about Veruca's exploits. And to be honest, he's not even really sure of who this werewolf is, or how Fenris relates in anyway. He never met the man; not until he was dead.

"What do you suggest we do?" Damian asks Ra's coolly.

"Ah, so now we think and strategize, do we?" Ra's responds immediately to Damian, practically slamming his removed gloves down on any nearby surface, his anger seeping into every action. "Do you not realize that the League of Assassins is barely more than a legend to the very, very, /very/ few people who have even heard of it? I have not maintained that status for over six hundred years for a pair of clumsy /children/ to destroy my work in a single act of stupidity!" Finally, his sharp whispers give way to a practical roar of anger before he takes a breath and settles back into his chair, rubbing at his temples.

For several moments, he sits in continued silence before he finally speaks again, this time calm and cooly collected. "I don't care when you gathered his attention. You do not fight a creature like that head on. I've faced many like him over the long years. You need to hit them where they hurt. If he's here, he likely has some connection to our world. Find it."

Veruca glances towards Damian, this was her screw up from the beginning, the screw up that brought them here and into the now. She relents, settling down upon the couch, her hand idly rubbing at her cheek as she listens to the scolding which was rightfully held.

"That thing does not know that I am apart of the League. And I intend to keep it that way." In truth, this was her bag, and Damian's by proxy. She says nothing more, however, his instructions were true and clear. They needed to find an opening, a weak spot of sorts, hit it hard and hit it fast.

Damian didn't know about this at all before it happened; he couldn't have prevented it. That being said, he certainly wasn't going to throw Veruca under the bus. So, rather than retort to his grandfather, he stays quiet on that front.

"We shall find his weakness, and exploit it, Grandfather."

"Yes," Ra's responds, "You shall." All at once, he surges to his feet, leaving his ruined gloves wherever they lie, his bare hand on the pommel of his sheathed sword. "And to ensure that no further damage is done to this operation, I will be staying in Gotham. Once this obstacle is dealt with, the mission is yours again, Damian. Until such time, I am taking over." As if to punctuate this point, a flurry of activity whips up just outside the door and Ubu re-enters. Behind him, a pair of heavily armored Elites have taken up the previous position of the now unconscious and missing men. "The previous guard has been relieved, Master," Ubu reports, standing aside as Ra's begins heading for the door, "The master suite is being prepared for you, and Shiva and Cain have been contacted."

"Very good, Ubu," Ra's replies, clearly finished with his meeting, "Tell our medically inclined friend to meet us here. My gandson's consort is broken and I need her in the field."

"Yes, Master."

Even as the pair depart, they're still discussing the necessary arrangements for renovating the safehouse to suit the needs of the Demon's head, completely ignoring Damian and Veruca.

There was a look that shoots now towards Damian, and soon after Ra's leaves, she stands, preparing to shatter herself to pieces to aid in Veruca's recovery. Borrowed power hinders this.

"When I wake up." She tells Damian as she strolls slowly towards the bathroom, stopping to pick up a blade of glass she left behind. ".. we're getting a hotel."

*SMASH*


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