awashlogs | [ open ] Quest Catch-all!

[For a long time, he's still quiet, even after Guren speaks. Honestly, Damian gets it. What Guren is doing isn't something he wouldn't also do in the same situation, isn't something he hasn't done already more than likely.

He's just emotionally constipated, and he doesn't know how or want to expression worry over stupid Guren's well-being. This makes him frustrated, and frustration makes him angry because he has no idea how to effectively deal with sensitive emotions. Which only makes him that much more angry being self aware!]

Making a phlebotomy kit is easy. With Todoroki's ice abilities, a blood storage fridge can be made to keep donated blood. The only issue is finding something the blood can be kept in hygienically.

I don't give a damn if he wants to drink it from the vein or wants it warm. He'll take what he gets.

[So when he can't deal with emotions, the next easiest step is to be his dad and Fix Problems. Even if there's no way it'd work, it doesn't matter. There's a problem, and he's looking for a solution.]

No, he’ll take what he wants. Push him enough with trying to force it one way and he’ll yank it the other. I’ve gone through all of this already.

[ Guren sighs, because there’s no helping this, and he wants to reassure Damian or even let him think he can help— but the truth is that even that’s harmful. Crowley may be a lazy vampire, but he’s still a vampire who plays with humans for fun, and he can flip at any moment. ]

This guy took down six squads of my men. Killed ten, kept the other twenty as hostages to get me to go over there myself. Then he took out my squad and Yuu’s squad. It’s only because I was willing to be taken that he didn’t kill them, too.

In the end, he’s working with me, now. Sort of. He doesn’t have the initiative to do much on his own, so I’ve been keeping him in check. [ a pause ]

If you want to help me, there are other ways.

[Sorry, Guren, but the first half just serves to make Damian more pissed off. Being helpless--like everything else apparently--makes him angry. People who act like the very person he use to be when he was ten during his Year of Blood make him angry.

The edges of him are tense, his jaw, his neck, his shoulders. Even without looking him full in the face, it's evident the more Guren gives of Crowley's resume, the more he just hates Crowley.

But at least Guren offers something in the end, and everything bubbling up in his throat disperses. He doesn't stop again, but he does slowly glance back.]

What kind of ways?

You're already helping.

[That sounds so fake, and he knows it, but he has to say at least that much. His voice has already gotten a little quieter, which means that Guren is being more open. It's funny— he always says more with the less he says, or the softer he says it.]

But, aside from that... Even if you're always whining about being underestimated, I know you're smart, and you're better at handling places and situations like this more than a lot of people here. You're helping the people here a great amount. You should try for more of that.

[A pause. And then, a little lighter, teasing.] And since you're so worried about me, maybe I'll share a little more with you, too.

[(X) doubt]

Tt.

[He's actually all soft around the edges and too full in right up until Guren decides to be stupid. His expression sours gently, and he promptly turns around to keep walking lest Guren see the embarrassment on his face. He'd been duped into being interested in helping only for Guren to tease him.]

Charity from you is the last thing I want. I never said I was worried about you either.

[Though he doesn't at all sound as scathing as he does when he's legitimately upset. Also, success?? He isn't bitching and moaning about Guren doing idiotic, self-sacrificing things, and he's also not trying (for now) to fight The Vampire.]

You can stay on the docks. I'll be right back.

Hahaha.

[It's another way to hide his own emotions, really, so he's grateful for the anger again. It means he can act the asshole and pretend it's nothing, quietly relieved at the change in atmosphere. He hopes Damian stays away from Crowley. He hopes he stays safe.

Guren is still following behind him a little, leaning over him to peer past.]

Why? You don't want to invite me in? Treat your elders with a little more respect.

[On the way down to the docks, Damian doesn't answer the verbal prodding. It's not until they're actually on the docks that it's obvious why he just hadn't bothered offering the invitation.]

I'm telling everyone you died to fairies, not to drowned in the harbor.

[A larger--for stability--handmade raft is tied to one of the beams of the dock, and a long stick from the forest rests nearby. Damian takes the stick up and plunges it into the water before pausing to untie the raft. He weighs maybe a hundred pounds soaking wet, so stepping into the middle of it barely causes it to rock.

Not far out, a little closer now after the siren incident, is a very blatantly remodeled boathouse. It's amazing there's signs of life on the thing at all, considering it's Damian's. Colorless aside from the splash from half-wilted flower crowns that have been hung as commemorations on a porch beam. Whoever in God's name gave Damian enough crowns to make at least four have to be some of the most masochistic people in Chroma.

The only other thing coming close to being cuter than the crowns is the shorter clothesline on the top deck. There's little kids' clothes hanging from it, and some of them are definitely not Damian's style.

He's setting sail across. The question is: will Guren step on without being invited, or try to jump all the way across to the boat?]

[That's... the cutest fucking thing, he can't believe it. Look at those cute half-wilted flower crowns. Honestly, he has the same (though way too many, in his opinion) in his own room that he needs to throw out, but it's way more endearing when someone else has it.

Anyway, obviously he's going for the best of both worlds. He watches Damian in his little boat for a good moment before he jogs just to the edge of the dock and hops, too effortlessly—

He lands on Damian's little boat enough to make it really rock, and of course take a little water as he kicks off of it like a springboard to make it over to the houseboat itself.]

[Ah yes. Suffering.

As soon as Guren begins jogging, Damian knows what's coming. On the raft, he stiffens, planting his feet firmly and spaced.] Don't your da-- [Guren leaves the dock, and Damian stabs the stick into the floor of the harbor in an attempt to keep some semblance of peace on his fucking raft.

He doesn't fall, but it's rocky, his heart leaps into his throat, and he desperately tries to both glare knives into Guren's body and make sure he doesn't capsize.] Was that necessary?! You could have simply-- [Like a grasshopper, there goes Guren again, and Damian actually screams in anger

It's fine. He's fine??

The raft just coasts--mostly--to the boat and rams gently into the steps of the porch, forcing Damian to grab the bottom of the banister to keep from flying back.]

ICHINOSE!!

Yo.

[Because obviously that yelling was a greeting, right. He's grinning like he's so proud of himself, slicked back hair and all, and extends his hand to Damian to help him up. Of course, he doesn't really expect him to take the help.]

This is cute. Like a secret hideout. [He's being an ass on purpose, of course.] Do you have housemates?

[Guren isn't wrong. The hand gets a swift smack with the top portion of the stick, and Damian climbs up the steps onto the boathouse without taking!! any!! help!! Besides, he has to, like, tie off the raft and situate the steering stick so he can get back across.

Unlike some people.]

It isn't "cute," and it isn't a secret hideout when it's standing in the middle of the harbor. If I had a secret hideout, you wouldn't ever know it existed.

Jon stays here with me, Kent's son. We go to school together. Our fathers are friends.

[Going in reveals a lot about Jon and Damian without either of them a) being present together, and b) explaining anything. The house is almost divided in a weird way.

Anywhere Jon has been, there's evidence of the boy's existence. It's childishly disheveled and messy. Things have no apparent organization other than "piles of chaos," and nothing is out of eyesight. Another bed has been brought in, out of place and not attached to the boathouse. It's sprinkled with very Jon Things with no order.

On the other hand, Damian's presence is immaculate. It's less rigid arrangement and more just there is nothing. Most of what Damian owns is hidden or out of sight. What is left unconcealed is, naturally, managed in a way that is very Orderly and Neat. It makes it look like Jon is living here alone.

In the places where the boys converge, it's butting rams. The spaces appear to be Jon tornado-ing through and Damian following religiously to organize or clean up behind. The counter in the kitchen has a half-eaten apple on it, holding down a piece of paper with childish handwriting that says,

"Gone to Dad's house because he has cookies. J"]

[And just as easily, he pulls his empty hand back and shoves it in his pocket, instead. He thought as much. Well, at least now, he can have a brief moment to process all of his thoughts, his feelings, all while snooping around Damian's house.

After all, he's not shy about stepping wherever it looks interesting while he's waiting for Damian to gather whatever he needs. His eyes fall on that note as his fingers ghost the counter in the kitchen, and there's a brief smile before he lets that drop away, too.

Well, it's good. He was worried that Damian might not be getting enough sunshine pushing him like this, but it seems like he's living with some.]

That explains a lot.

[Quietly, more to himself than to Damian, though he is letting him know he's still here, not getting too lost in snooping. He's well aware of who Superman is, thanks to Clark's openness, so that just confirms other things that were obvious by now, anyway.]

[The boathouse is an over-achieving, meticulous boy's attempt at making a niche for himself in an unfamiliar place. It hasn't been decorated in any sense of aesthetics, but it has been decorated by pieces of boys--like a clubhouse.]

Stop digging through our stuff.

[Jon has stolen a few pieces of paper and drawn crude renditions of the two of them; one with a siren eating what looks like Damian through the middle is new. The paper is crinkled, and Damian probably balled it up in a fit, and Jon smoothed it back out and hung it on the wall by the bed so Damian sees it every time he comes into the room.

They're sharing one, a room, and Jon is sassy.

In that same room, Damian is wedging a panel out of the wall with a thin wire hook. It fits seamless enough to not be noticable, and there's probably several throughout the whole boathouse. Inside isn't anything terribly dangerous: the arrows and their cloth quiver, some papers, a vial, a compass, a small med kit and another tin box. He's taking the quiver and the compass, but doesn't seem pressed if Guren is nosy.

There's also a dresser with two first-place ribbons on the wall above; lying below them are six arrows. They aren't crafted like Damian's. They're nastily sharp, industrial. Hm. Damian also takes these to put in the quiver.

The ridiculous lion shoes are on the dresser, too. Beside them is a music box, familiar. If Guren plays it, the song tinkling out is a rendition of a theme, and he'll begin to feel more rejuvenated.

Beside that is a journal which seems hand-made; stitched cloth stuffed with thin wood for structure and paper sewn into the spine. When Guren peeks, he finds it's a lot of drawing studies and notes, all Damian's. Shockingly, the art is very detailed and realistic--Pennyworth the cat, the sirens, the geese, the unicorns, landscapes of Chroma, Bruce, people Guren has never seen, a lot of blueprints for tools.

There's something else embarrassing: a BFF bracelet. He tries to put it on when Guren isn't paying attention? It'll be fine. Guren has a lot to try to inspect here, he won't see. :')]

I’m not digging, brat. You have it lying all over.

[ Calmly, he follows Damian to watch him get his things. A lot of things he recognizes as rewards, but it’s the lion shoes that make him feel sick. He could have died. He probably got hurt. But that thing is gone now, and he tries to push it away.

As for that bracelet, well... Guren pretends not to see it, turning to wind the music box instead. He could always use a fake nap. He’s got his own embarrassing bracelet on all the time, anyway. Red, around one of his wrists below the sleeve of his uniform, it matches Dextera’s.

When Damian is doing being a nerd about the bracelet, Guren glances back to him. ]

Do you have any sort of blade on you?

[Damian's bracelet matches one Izuku also has, but listen, Damian doesn't wanna talk about it at all.]

I told you I don't use weapons like that. [This is just to be a butt. His arm lifts, and he points across the room behind Guren. Supported simply by two nails in the wall, the jagged stone arrowhead dagger from the island is displayed.] I would just make one at the blacksmith if I had the materials.

I attempted to bring my grandfather's sword from the cave, but I wasn't able. I assume it was considered monumental, and I had already excavated Batcow.

I have shuriken and this. [He lifts the bow from by the dresser and shoulders it.] It's enough.

[Hmm. Guren would focus on how he hates "Batcow" and never wants to hear it again, but there are other, more important things at hand. Like how Damian is busy being a butt when he could be a little more ready to protect himself in case something goes wrong.

Guren reaches into his jacket, and pulls out a knife easily. He holds it out to Damian in offering.]

You sure? I still have extras.

[WOW WHAT. Damian would kick Guren's ass for hating such a sweet, beautiful lady like Batcow? Her name is the best name in the world??]

Tt.

[His eyes drop to the knife when it comes from within the jacket. He glances up at Guren's face, suspicious, and then at the knife again. Carefully, he reaches out and takes it, testing the weight of it in his palm. There's some flourish when he tests how it handles, but it seems like he knows what he's doing.]

Why are you so worried? I thought you were all about being there to protect everyone else, even me.

Hmm, nope. That's not me at all. Why would I care if some shitty brat dies?

[He's so full of it, and he knows better than to expect anyone to believe him, but he still plays like this for his pride. Ridiculous. It's a perfectly normal knife, good size and weight, and Guren leaves that with him as he turns, heading back towards the exit.]

Besides, I'm not always going to be around. [Hmm!! His back is to Damian, but he's waving his hand in the air like it's not a weird thing to bring up.] You should be well equipped to protect yourself. If you're going with range, you should always have an option to defend yourself up close, too.

[It's difficult looking into the mirror because the mirror looks back at you. He wants to be disgruntled by Guren's shitty attitude, but for some reason can't find a reason to do it because subconsciously he realizes this is how he acts himself.

Don't think he isn't paying attention to that "I'm not always going to be around" which doesn't at all help what Crowley had told him, you fuck!!!]

Bold of you to assume I couldn't kill someone with my bare hands.

[At least, bold to assume he wouldn't try. The knife is spun and then slipped into the band of the cloth belt at the side of his back. He follows after Guren until they get back to the little kitchenette area.

Moving the apple and flipping the note, Damian uses the pilfered charcoal pencil to write a note for Jon:

Fairy hunting. If I do not return alive, Guren Ichinose should be charged with felony child endangerment and involuntary manslaughter. Clean up your mess.

D

And he puts the apple back on the edge of the note to keep it there. Hm. Bow and arrows, knife, compass--which he knows probably won't function properly... Okay, he's ready.] Let's go.

[Guren just kind of deadeyes at that comment. Why is this brat like this? He has full confidence that he could kill someone bare-handed, honestly? But he's not going to grace him with that reassurance, simply staring off and sighing, instead.

That note also gets a Look.]

Keep being a little snot and it's going to become very voluntary manslaughter.

[Also, he's tried the compass himself, it spins wildly and he hates it, but he won't bother telling Damian that right now. Instead, he turns to head for the door, back to being silent about it all. He's got a lot on his mind lately, but Damian being so... bothered is another level to it all. He really wishes he could control Crowley a bit better. Then he wouldn't be worrying everyone like this with unnecessary information.

But, he's very ready to get back to the rest of town the same way he came over in the first place.]

[Listen, he might not succeed in murdering with his bare hands if the person is overpowered, but by God, he will try.]

Best hope you're not tried for second-degree. [Somewhere in an alternate universe, the Damian in robowest is currently being shot between the eyes by the host. rip] Since I'm a minor, you'll probably get life imprisonment. Unfortunately, there's no justice system here, so they'll simply kill you.

Ironically, my father will likely be the one to save you from your fate regardless of whether or not everyone comes back from the dead.

[He goes out with Guren, feeling smug, though it's short lived when he realizes crossing back over is on the raft. Of course, he doesn't at all trust Guren not to pull the same stunt, or something similar. Damian may sometimes be a fool when he's blinded by arrogance, but he learns his lessons.]

Get on.

[He lets Damian have his strange fantasies without a word, though he does breathe out something like a laugh. But they're outside now, and he's being told to board this flimsy raft?

Well, he can always jump off if he has to. He doesn't weigh very much at all for a six foot tall man with a ton of power.]

Haha, did I scare you last time? [But onto it he steps, carefully measuring how his weight is distributed even if he keeps his hands pocketed like a cool guy. He glances back at Damian.]

No. You were a pain in the ass and a mild inconvenience.

[Taking up the stick, Damian steps on after Guren. It's a fairly bigger raft, allowing them to displace weight evenly without it rocking all around--unless Guren is a fucker who bounces off of it.]

You're supposed to be the adult, but you act like a child. You could have split the raft, and I would have fallen into the water.

[Shoving the stick into the depths, he uses it to push them along and steer them toward the docks they came from earlier.]

Is there a particular reason you're going after the fairies?

I'm allowed to do whatever I want. It's brats like you who should listen to their elders.

[But, they're on the raft, he's not going to bother offering to help push it when Damian is probably going to get stubborn about it, so he just stares forward, at the docks.

Why the fairies? He's tired, he's got so much on his mind, he feels like he's got five million things to do— but he's been slacking on the quests lately. Maybe that's why he hasn't gotten any closer. Maybe he has to do more. More and more, as much as his body will handle. Going with multiple different groups means a different outcome every time, too. But he just glances up at the sky, a little.]

Not really.

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rip i sent a novel gomen

I love it!!!!

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