17629/Al Ghuls at Rest

Al Ghuls at Rest
Date of Scene:	12 April 2024
Location:	Library - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Talia and Damian talk. And showcase paranoia and distrust. And Talia shows fears of phantasms.
Cast of Characters:	Talia al Ghul, Damian Wayne

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Talia al Ghul has posed:
She's taken a seat over in one of the places of the library of the Manor. She's currently reading over an old text. Well, not necessarily an old text. A copy of an old text. A copy of a copy of something else carefully recreated. It's a normal looking book.. Thick leather cover, musty.. But also wtih a leather buckle fastened around it that is currently undone. The title is bound in sanskrit, as is the writing within. Talia is going slowly along, various tablets around her and going through the process of translating an ancient Mesopotamian language.

Damian Wayne has posed:
The arrival of Damian Wayne isn't heralded by horns, drums of war, or even footsteps. It's a long sniff inward. A deep inhale of the smell of old paper and, despite Alfred's formidable efforts, a little dust to mingle with the scent of leather. The young Wayne holds that breath for a moment and upon releasing it, his bright green eyes slip aside to direct themselves toward Talia. His mother.

The book already cradled within his hand is given a little squeeze at the sight of her. He tightens his hold on it, but whether that is out of some annoyance made manifest or fear that she could attempt to take the book from him or something else entirely is surely up for debate. He takes in another breath, though this one is to fill his lungs and release it with a slow, silent exhale. Cleansing breaths.

A clear of his throat later and finally his footfalls are heard upon the wood of the floors. The smart rap of his expensive shoes and their equally expensive soles taps out a steady beat of his approach to the sitting area near the window. That is until the Wayne heir comes to a halt, his head cants slightly, and his eyes fix narrowly upon his mother, "Do you mind company?"

The tone is frosty enough to chill a glass, but his expression remains carefully and applaudably neutral.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would take a moment before looking up, "Greetings Damian." She would speak to him in smooth Arabic, putting the old book to the side. It being from Bruce's library on ancient Mesopotamian gods and creatures. She would take a moment to analyse what he had in his own collection before returning her full attention to him.

"And you seem rather contemplative this evening. And some companionship would be appreciated. And no, you're not distracting me from anything." Speaking quickly in a familiar language. The one that she had learned to speak first, after all.

Which also offered a modicum of privacy if needed as /not/ every single person in the Mansion could speak it fluently.

Just most of them.

Damian Wayne has posed:
The familiar tongue results in a brow twitching higher, though only for a moment. It's the only physical tell that he presents. He listens attentively, though with the same neutral expression as a moment ago after his eyebrow lowers once more. The request to join is accepted and Damian steps around a chair, settling into it with precision and ease. He does not open his book - which appears to be a book on criminal psychology - but instead settles into atop his lap, while a lone hand rests atop it.

"I like to think I'm always contemplative," he answers with a degree of dryness to his tone. He seems to be watching his mother with all of the caution of someone inspecting a trap. His eyes travel over her for a moment, looking for her own physical cues that may reveal or divulge something of her thoughts or anxieties without being intended. Despite his moment of consideration, Damian carries along with the conversation without missing a beat, "How long do you plan to stay?"

The question is innocent enough. Damian also doesn't seem to acknowledge the book on Mesopatimian gods and creatures. Not yet, anyway.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would glance over at the frame of said book, "That one is rather off the course. The author ruminates too much on how criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot but does precious little when it comes to citations or any form of credible studies." Not that they were necessarily wrong in the conclusions.. But, Talia could still occasionally put out her own small barbs and needles.

"And you are clearly giving yourself far too much credit, my son. Speaking as your mother." She's picking up the line of him watching her and is in turn teasing him back. Not intentinoally using the bit of familiarity to deflect, but it might come off as that.

"And I don't know. At some point your grandfather will come for me." That was a fate she had come to accept. Unwillingly.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Different points of view are necessary to find the truth," arrives Damian's answer on the subject of the author whose book he holds atop his lap. "If you only let one side tell their story, you end up down all manner of wrong paths," Damian elaborates, his bright green eyes fixed squarely upon his mother's face. While conversational and on-topic, it's quite clear that the young Wayne's speaking of his own upbringing. He does a commendable job at not allowing his expression to falter, twist, sneer, or otherwise reveal the thoughts running through his mind.

A clear of his throat later and his own little barb cast, Damian seems to promptly set aside the pettiness. Physically, he also sets aside the book onto a small table aside his wing-backed chair. He casually shifts a knee across the opposite, his chin inclines ever so slightly, and he watches across the narrow distance between mother and son while he remarks on the subject of his grandfather, "Your father. Forging the personal connection and calling the one that'll come for you my grandfather is simply attempting to inspire my readiness to leap to your defense. He's your father. Your father is going to come for you eventually," Damian answers without heat or passion, nor frost or emotionless. He simply states a fact in all it's factual glory.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would nod over, "Why yes, but one has to ensure that analysis is backed by evidence, and that evidence is in turn backed by solid conclusions made from it to allow it to be utilized. But, do ignore my pedanticism." It's a bit of light wordplay back and forth over and rest her hands on her lap.

"Yes, at some point he will come for me." Or summon her. Or however he would take her. And she seemed completely resigned and helpless in that. From her body langugae, there was a surrendered inevitability to it. Even Talia couldn't fake that well.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Maybe it's an attempt by Damian Wayne to extend an olive branch. Maybe it's all the opening gambit of an elaborate trap. Whatever it is, Damian's silence hangs in the air for a time. It is neither short, nor long. It's just long enough that the silence begins to encroach on awkward or uncomfortable. When he does finally speak it's with a tone that's only just on the warm side of neutral, his chin dipped into a physical sign of concern or consideration, and his bright green eyes rest upon his mother's own, "How can we stop him? There has to be a way. Some way. Is that why you're reading that?"

The question is presented with a lift of his chin, signaling the book that Talia was reading upon his arrival. A glance is cast toward the ancient book - or the copy of a copy of an ancient text - and then back to Talia herself as son looks to mother with the faintest fracture of concern in the armor of his carefully schooled neutral expression.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would close her eyes softly. With exhaustion. "Perhaps there is. Perhaps htere isn't. But I don't want to drag you or your father into it. You have enough conflict already. You don't need one more war on anyone's behalf." Much less her's. There was that rare acknowledgement of the crimes she had done and the pain she had caused. That seemed to be genuine. Being buried after a moment. She would not admit to emotional weakness. It was something of logic.

"Ah, no. It was a.. First edition reference to something else that I've been.. Researching more recent texts of. Sometimes digging into the original parchment yields perspective." Not that the book was anything remotely near to the original parchment.

It would have been chiseled into stone.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"So you won't accept help, but you can't help yourself. Then you'll spend the rest of your days hiding?" There isn't venom to his words. Instead Damian seems to be seeking an answer from his mother. Even if that answer is obvious; sometimes you simply need to hear it spoken. In this case though, it's likely that the young Wayne doesn't require an answer, because he barely leaves an opening to answer the question before he continues on with his thought, "Wouldn't being here put us at as much jeopardy than if we were directly involved?"

He pauses for a moment and his expression shifts, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth for but a fleeting moment. Despite that momentary frown, his expression remains hardened against most displays of emotion, "It sounds like you've given up already. Resigned yourself to whatever fate you've decided will befall you."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would sigh over. His logic is hard and clear. Her own will is stubborn in the matter. But Talia lived in complete fear of her father. That was a consistency. Whether or not she hand the others had the capacity to fight him off, whether she had the right to keep away from him.. Her fear had long since subjugated herself to it.

"I thought I was free, for awhile. That I was hidden. That I had a place of my own. Then he came one day to check in on me." Having hidden as deeply and as in total paranoia as she could, and he had found her. Casually. It had broken her.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"Then you're generating excuses as you're able. If you can't resist the inevitable, then you have to simply live the way that you can," Damian answers plainly, his expression still calm and neutral. A hand shifts and lowers atop the book he'd set aside. He does not take it up, nor does he fidget with it. He simply rests his hand there and continues on with the conversation between mother and son, "One thing I've determined about my own life? Is that the past happened, the future will happen; but today I have to focus on living."

He pauses for a moment and his free hand lifts from atop his thigh. He rakes his hair back from his forehead with a graze of his fingertips through hair and against scalp. As it falls back and away, leaving the bright green of his eyes clearly visible in the light filtering in through the library windows. They remain fixed on Talia. "You've decided that because you know a train will hit you at some point in the near or possibly distant future, you may as well just... stop. Logic aside? That doesn't sound like the formidable person that is my mother."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
There's something in her face that's a twitch. A nervous tick. At being called out.. And trying to refute it, to argue it.. Instead there's a look of tiredness on her. A look of rawness and actual mental exhaustion. "Damian, please. Not now. Please, just.." Her face scrunching up as it twists to showcase something that is very,very clearly 'I can't'.

Talia Al Ghul did not do raw displays of vulnerability. Whether or not it was something she had come to accept, was being called on, or was in denial over.

She also never, ever said 'please'.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"We don't stop," Damian answers with a slight edge to his voice. It's likely something that he was told over and over and over when he was younger, being trained to kill without hesitation or mercy. We don't stop. He watches his mother for a moment. He watches the way that her expression shifts and contorts. He watches as she either goes through an elaborate act or an authentic display of physical emotion.

He finally eases himself forward and a hand extends. He seeks to lay it reassuringly atop his mother's knee and, after a moment of silence, he speaks and his voice has softened to something bordering on sympathetic, "Mother. I'm concerned for you. I want to help you. I don't want you to live as a hostage in your own... everything."

Bright green eyes stare across the short distance between them and Damian seems entirely focused on Talia. Gunmen could come crashing through the library windows and he likely wouldn't see it coming until it's too late. He's that focused on attending to his mother's emotional wellbeing.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia had inflicted horrors and tortures upon Damian. She had taken charge of much of his training, his treatment, and his instruction. It was rather apt to call her an abuser of him. And an enabler of what others did to him.

But she had also gone through the same horrors from her father. SOmething passed down from generation to generation. And something that Damian had escaped, with the help of his father and family.

Talia is very, very tense and raw as Damian comes towards her. Tense, like ready to lash out. She finally goes to slump down over. She just sort of sits back in her chair. Forcing herself into it. "Thank.. Thank you, Damian. Just.. Not now. Please."

Damian Wayne has posed:
If there is any animosity in Damian Wayne toward his mother? He doesn't allow it to show in this moment. Could she be manipulating him? Most assuredly. Whether she was or not remained to be seen, but for the moment Damian seems willing to play along. He nods once after Talia's words and his hand finally slips away. Again he leans back, settling into his seat while his gaze remains steadily upon his mother. He studies her, even as she settles back into her seat. He seems to watch her for signs of his suspicion; that it was all an act, a ploy to lure him into a false sense of security or sympathy.

He does not fold or clasp his hands together. He learned long, long ago that joining your hands could prevent a rapid response to a sudden attack. It's just one more thing that he was taught not to do as a child. Probably quite harshly, if he thought long and hard about the notion.

He continues to watch Talia while she deals with her own emotions, as raw or disingenuous as they may be. He does finally break the silence however, nodding once as he answers her request, "I won't press further. We will talk about it eventually," he warns, but at least softens that warning, "but that isn't today."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia was a very, very broken woman. Not just for what she had done. But a trip through the Lazarus Pit camewith it a price. Immortality but each time you rose up from it's depths a little less of you came up, a little more of something else rose to the surface.

And how many times had she been through it?

"Thank you. It's.." Not something she's emotionally capable of navigating. Separating the logic and analysic that Damian brought up with the.. Irrational levels of fear that rose up in her was not a course she could readily chart. At least..

Not tonight. "Thank.. You." Sincere thanks.

Damian Wayne has posed:
The thanks offered by Talia receives only a shallow, gentle nod. He doesn't speak up in acknowledgment of the subject or her thanks, he simply nods and considers the matter resolved. For now. He reaches aside once again. Once more his hand comes to rest atop the book and this time he picks it up, drawing it back to himself. He doesn't stand, but it's obvious that he seems as though he could rise up at a moment's notice. No longer is his attention so invested in Talia that his peripheral vision is clouded. He's once again alert and attentive, even if he does an expert level job of concealing that fact. He seems calm and reserved. Mature, even.

The book in hand again, Damian's chin shifts slightly in order to level his bright green eyes squarely onto his mother before he asks, "Would you like to be alone now? Or would you rather I remain?"

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia al Ghul would sigh, "I.. I would.. Prefer to be alone. It's nothing you've done. I just.." she doesn't need to get back to whatever research it was doing. It just gave her a way to paper over her concerns until she was capable of mentally dealing with them. Which far from the best way of dealing with problems..

But all, all too common. Quite likely even moreso wiht the Waynes.

Damian Wayne has posed:
The answer seems enough for Damian. He doesn't fight it. He doesn't argue it. He doesn't debate it. He offers a shallow nod of his head and smoothly rises up to his feet. He gathers himself, which largely means ensures that he's got a good grip on his book and then step away. Step away he does, the soft tap of his shoes heard upon the hardwood floor. Soon his steps are retreating until, as he turns the corner and out of the library, the younger Wayne's footsteps cease to make noise. Which is likely entirely intentional.

He could be lurking just around the corner. Eavesdropping. Or he could be gone and going about his business.

He is, after all, the Son of Batman and the Demon's Daughter. Stealth and subterfuge gushes through his every vein, with every beat of his heart.