Fun with Sais, Part 1

February 1, 2015: Damian and Veruca do their normal dance, this time downstairs in the makeshift gymnasium


Ewwww. Gotham. Gross



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Mood Music:

Ruca has been a good girl as of late. She kept herself inside, she didn't go to secret meetings or do any shady dealings with masked folks and avoided the television and other things that would get her goat going. Most of the time? She spent training, tucked in the basement of the manse that they've gutted and prepared for Ra's liking, putting herself through obstacles with the rest of those who were still in training to stay fit, active, occupied.

When it came to Damian? She was a doting consort, whatever he wanted she asked and most of the time left him alone to his own devices. It wasn't as if he required much, he was his own man and growing into his own, her influence, she believed, possibly would sully that.

But every night? She was there with him, and when he wasn't there, she trained. And when she didn't train? She kept tabs on the man whom she'd soon kidnap that had ties to his mother organization. He was a study, of course. Mr. Tennenbaum. Father of four young girls, two of them twins, which were the oldest. One a small babe, freshly born and the other three. A Masters in Business Administration, graduated from all schools in Gotham. Prideful of his city even though it was hell to live in.

There were times he'd venture off to the seedier parts of town, frequenting what most would consider the Red Lights, doing lines of blow just to keep working in the early hours of the morning but he was of the faithful sort. He didn't beat his wife, he treated her like a queen, typical straight shooter with a big belly and laugh to match. Yeah. More homework was needed. Aside from the family which she would not touch, she figured that the blow was the weakest spot.

But for now? She was heading back down stairs again, but not before she stepped in front of the mirror to fix her hair. Always have to fix the hair. She didn't want it to be sheared off by a sword.

By the time Veruca gets downstairs, she'll find Damian already down there doing his training session. Only 40 minutes long, it is extremely rigorous and a blend of what his father and grandfather had each taught him.

Despite his lithe frame he has been concerned with the power in his core and is busy doing back squats in an attempt to build a little muscle. He'd taken his mother's frame, much to his chagrin, and it was something he consistently had to work against in an effort to live up to his namesakes.

He's wearing a simple black cut-off t-shirt and athletic pants, a far cry from his black outfit and the trademark of all Robin's current and former. But now isn't really a time for show—it's a time for work.

Hair tied. Sai's grabbed. Face patted down with a wash of water from cupped hands. Promptly dried and back down again, she stood at the edge of the steps and watched with interest. Surely, she may or may not have seen him train before, but each time was different than the last. But, back squats? In the great words of Johnny Bravo.. 'Oooh mama!'

She wasn't elaborately dressed either. Cargo pants colored grey and black, regular pair of tennis shoes on and a tank top. Something she could easily move in. Her steps weren't quiet, but he could hear them from behind him, a low whistle cracking forward as she idly gives comment and compliment.

"And now I know why you have a great ass." She snip-snaps her fingers. "You're down here doing the froggy." She didn't know what the hell back squats were, but they made him look delish.

With one of those weightlifter grunts, Damian finishes the set before he'll allow himself a smile. He grabs his towel and grins at Veruca, wiping the sweat from his brow and throwing it on the rack.

"Is that what they call it?" Damian asks with a chuckle. "The froggy? I think all lifts should have such names."

She squints an eye in his direction, slightly unsure. "I suppose?" She had a little bit of ignorance in that department. Push ups are push ups, because that was universal. Clean and Power Clean? If that was really a terminal, probably would have been called something else. The makings of a guy passing out or some other clever name she'd think of.

"But you squat. Your legs moved like a frog. There for it's aptly named as such." She walks towards him, then leans in and up to place a light kiss upon his cheek. "Tell me something good, lyubov moya."

Damian receives the kiss against the cheek and reaches to place his hand upon Veruca's side for a moment until she pulls away. "Good? Well, I've evaded my father thus far despite being back in Gotham. That's pretty good. On the other front, my mother still evades my pursuit. Things have been quiet. Too quiet, perhaps."

She had to squint at his words. His father? "Is he searching for custody? A reunion?" She shakes her head. He never spoke about his father and once it was brought up, she was walled out. She did not like that feeling. She may just cut him to show him how she felt when he did that. "Don't answer."

No cutting Damian.

"Not so much, my love. Not so much." She takes a few steps away from him, sai's twirling within her fingers until one drops and clangs upon the floor, which was picked up and tried yet again. "I've been looking at the man that I've pointed out towards you on the roof. There are a few cracks showing. I believe we can use him to get close to your mother."

"Veruca," Damian says plainly. "I'm already of age. Technically speaking, no one has custody of me." The young Wayne lets the topic drop cold and doesn't make a move to elaborate. There's no real need to make Veruca any more paranoid.

"Would you like some help?" Damian says, nodding towards the sai.

"I am unsure of how you Americans view custody. In the movies, it does not matter if you are old. Your parents will still want and love you and.." There was a slight twinge in her voice. So she leaves it. She leaves it even more as he drops the topic without fanfaire. It /kinda/ made her want to cut him. She hated that.

Glancing down towards the sai, she offers a shrug of her shoulders, taking those steps towards him to flip them to catch the blade, offering him both handles. "Yes. One of the assassins.. Turk? I believe is his name, has yet to finish teaching me. But he's gone on a mission."

Damian begins to twirl the sai effortlessly. "Turk…" he says offhandedly and it's not immediately clear what he means by the way he says it. "The key is to keep it light on your finger as you spin it, and even more importantly, to keep your other fingers clear." He flicks the sai easily and stops it with his hand on the blade, handing it back handle out.

Her hand was already held out to take the handle as she watches him twirl. "It is like you play the piano." She states quietly, icy blues focused upon his fingers until the handle was offered, and plucked from his palm. The catch, she can just do fine, but it was the twirling of the sai that made her a little bit crazy. But she tries again, with more than enough effort until she finds a decent cadence of a twirl and a knock against her finger that sends it to the ground yet again. "Son of a.." She didn't finish those words, she only picked it up to hand towards him yet again. "Show me again." She was getting a wee bit demanding.

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