Summary:Blackbird and Nightwing talk open and secret lives. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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For almost her entire life, Helena has been a constant presence among the bat-clan. In the cave, in the manor, tagging along on missions. Where most of the members of the family are loners at heart, Helena's always been there.
In the last few weeks, though, she joined SHIELD academy, and going that deep into an organization that specializes in knowing everything has mean she's had to distance herself to a degree. Plus it's done a number on her free time. Oddly enough, it's also given her a desire for a little more solitude than usual.
To satisfy that urge, she's suited up and headed for one of the usual sentry patrol points. Deep in the more dangerous areas of Staten Island, the rooftop is sheltered from view thanks to a set of unusual crenellations, and the system that allows the bats to keep tabs on the city means it's in easy reach of the usual hotspots.
She's currently crouched in the shadows near the edge of the roof, her comms dialed in for any alerts of suspicious activity. Patiently waiting.
"You found one of my spots." Nightwing says from atop a nearby bit of pointy archetechture. He does that Batman thing where he just sort of appears without warning in a manner most unfair to the rest of the world. And prolly physics. "If you head deeper into the heart of the rock, you'll prolly find a few more, but this was one of my first. Easier to get to then the others, but more sheltered. Used to come here when I thought I needed to think, get away from it all, wait for some idiot carjacker or something to pop by so I could take some pent up frustration out on." he makes a little sigh, "I was so emo for so long. I mean you think Jacyn was rough, she was just a douchebag. I went full on guyliner for a little while there. Couldn't pry Brand New out of my CD player with a stick of dynamite. Yeesh. Alfred not throwing me off the roof is the act of a saint. I owe him something special for Christmas this year."
"Your spot?" Helena glances over from beneath her hood, the smile curving behind her mask still clear in her voice. "Just because you're old and you were here first doesn't mean it's yours. Finders keepers."
She doesn't seem to be startled by his arrival, though whether that's because she knew he was coming or just an inbred resistance to surprise is unclear. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure emo runs in the family. I wasn't pulling a dad though. More just…looking for a little something light to keep me in the game without getting me in trouble at school tomorrow. How about you? Slow night at the precinct?"
Dick Grayson makes a slight motion that's akin to a shrug in the suit, "Gibbs is taking a paperwork night, trying to wrap up all the reports, which is a nice way of saying getting blind drunk, but it cuts me loose for the night. I'm out 'running down leads'," he air quotes, "on a few things that'll clearly turn up nothing. Unless I get stupid lucky tonight. Seems unlikely though. figured I could at least make a few patrols. Things have been getting tight out here."
Helena reaches into one of her pouches, pulling out a saran-wrapped brownie to offer over. One of Alfred's. Some equipment is very important to have in the suit. "Yeah?" she asks, quirking a brow. "And here I was thinking we practically had a station house worth of bats at this point. Sorry," she adds, rueful.
"I know Dad wasn't a huge fan of the whole SHIELD academy thing but…you get it, right?" If anyone gets it, it has to Dick. Doesn't it?
Dick Grayson takes the brownie with a grunt of thanks and stuffs it in his mouth. Hey, he doesn't visit like he used to, and Pennyworth baking remains the cardinal reason he does so as regularly as possible. Also to restock on gadgets. Cause he's a mooch. "Meh." he says, "I've been a consultant for SHIELD for years." he says around a cheek buldging with chocolatey goodness. "As Nightwing." he clarifies. "Keep your head on your shoulders, you'll be fine. Gonna be harder for you going maskless. Wayne monikor won't do you favors there." his tone suggests he suspects it's quiet the opposite in fact.
"Part of the fun," Helena drawls, dry. The funny part is, she…sort of means it. What's the point if it isn't a challenge, after all? "It's interesting, though. Feels good to be…earning something. Even if it's not as much of a challenge as they like to think it is."
She shrugs, going back to her crouch and looking out over the borough thruogh those golden contacts. "Lots of interesting things to learn, though. The science is…amazing."
Dick Grayson nods his head, "First time we ran into Victor Fries I remember thinking something like. I mean sure, all the blue hairlessness of him and what not was a thing, the suit, the whole gimmik, but what the man had actually accomplished. What he was working towards." Dick shakes his head, "One of the perks of this gig is being on the very cutting edge of where humanity is clearly headed. Must have been what it was like to be involved with the Manhatten Project back in the day. All that potential for good or ill, changing the understanding of the universe one terrifying discovery after another." he sighs, "Makes me wish I was smarter."
"Yeah, that must suck," Helena teases, flicking a glance his way. Lord knows, she's not lacking in the intellect department. One of the less complicated things she inherited, at least.
"Some of it isn't a surprise," she muses. "Things we've started, things we've prepared for. But the actual science behind it, the things that have been put into practice. Seeing it in action is really cool. But it does mean I don't get out here as much. It's weird enough that I can do the things I can do. No sense letting them catch wind of me being out all hours too."
Dick Grayson nods his head, "If you graduate and move on, it'll get impossible." he says flatly, "The only reason I can still do this is because Gibbs is lazy, the prcinct incompetant, and combined they wouldn't fill a thimble with give a shit. Allows me free time to pursure these things on my own… SHIELD had none of that. You may have to hang up the mask entirely." he side eyes her a bit, "I assume you followed this all through to it's inevitable conclussion."
"This one, maybe." Helena nods, matter of fact. "But SHIELD puts their own people in masks. And a Wayne's an asset." She props her chin up in one hand, pensive. "That's the thing, Dick. The big thing. The real thing. I can't…spend my whole life hiding who I am and what I can do from everyone. I need a space. I need…reasons. I need a cover of a cover."
Shaking her head, she straightens up from her crouch again. "I don't want to be afraid. I don't want to spend my life wondering who's going to blow it all up. So yeah. I'll spend at least a few years with SHIELD. And either I'll find my way into their ranks, or I'll have a reason ten years down the road when someone wonders how Helena Wayne made it through that kidnapping attempt."
Dick Grayson is quiet for a long time after that, honestly longer then most, "You know what I learned with Barbara?" he asks suddenly, "I mean, back when you were like," and he holds his hand at what would be waist high were he standing, "and we couldn't stop you from breaking into our rooms and messing with our stuff?"
"It's genetic." Helena grins behind her mask, and despite the voice modulator she wears, he can no doubt hear a much smaller voice saying the same thing. "What'd you learn?"
"You can't have it all." Nightwing says almost sadly as he turns his head to stare at his little sister, "It's the price we pay." he says, and he's going Big Brother Voice, with the eyes and everything. "For being rich, alive, and free all at the same time. This life, more then the usual one entitled brats get to live, will lure you into a feeling like you can do anything. We routinely live the impossible. We stand beside mutants and wizards and actual gods, we do battle with aliens and mad scientist's robot minions and armies of extradimensional bunnies or whatever. It's easy to think that anything is possible in a world where this isn't the extraordinary, but the ordinary."
He looks down at his gloved hands with the armored knuckles and hidden weights, the armor mesh on his forearms complete with secreted weaponry, and his fingers curl into fists before relaxing again, "We don't get to live this life /and/ get to chose the personal life we want. There are no endings where everything works how /exactly/ how we liked, and whats worse, we take our loved ones with us for the ride, and most of them didn't sign up for it. You can be a great SHIELD agent sis, or you can be one of us. But you can't do both. Of all people, you can't do both. I consult for them, do the odd job, run down a lead, take care of thing they can't be seen taking care of. I freelance. But if I was caught, I'm a circus kid. They have a guy that shoots arrows working with them that was a circus kid, my abilities are built into the joke of a life story I would lie to them about. Even knowing my ties to the Family, I could shield them. There would be questions, concerns, but they couldn't /prove/ anything. I'm a cut away with flimsy but functional deniability. You?" he shakes his head, "One rogue agent. One hacked network. One politician that gets security clearance and decides he needs to get reelected, and it burns down the whole thing. At some point, not today, not tomorrow, but sooner then you want, you're going to have to make a choice. You're gonna have to hang up the mask, the badge, or risk all of it by showing both to an organization with a million moving parts, adgendas, leaks, and complications and /hope/ your dad never pissed off a subcommitee member somewhere with access to civilian oversite files."
He shakes his head, "Babs and me, we chose the mask. The work was more important then what was growing between us. It… wasn't easy. Costs you something you can't get back. Doesn't mean it was the wrong decision either. We're good me and her, we do good work as often as we can, but we had to give up something else in exchange. We can't have it all, there's a price to everything. Even dreams."
"Says you." Helena looks out over the borough, golden eyes searching. "I won't give up without trying, Dick. God, you said it yourself," she gestures around them. "Who are we? We're just humans. Damned lucky humans, with some damned good genes, in some cases," she adds, twirling one hand. "But here we are. Standing up with gods and wizards and monsters. Living with our secrets. With other peoples' secrets."
She shrugs, letting her hands fall. "Maybe it's crazy, maybe it's hubris. But I'm not going to give up without at least trying."
Dick Grayson nods his head, "I know." he still sounds sad, "Bruce gave me the same speech about the time you were born… it's also when he realized that the mask thing came with costs deeper then he'd really considered before." he looks at her, "I could preach at you, like he did me, but I remember that talk and how I just knew better. To be fair I was younger then you are, and you've always been brighter then me, so I figure you're more likely to listen then I was. I just want to play devil's advocate, so you think about it. If you put your mind to the problem, the whole problem, then I'm certain you can solve it. Just don't miss something. I have 2 sisters and I missed something once, failed one of them. Still trying to fix it. Be better then Bruce and me, Lena, that's really all I'm trying to say. And /definately/ be better then your mom. Pretty sure she stole me damned badge last time I visited! I did /not/ leave it on the counter in the kitchen, I don't care what anyone says. It was on my damned belt."
"Hey, I'm pretty sure Mom's skills are going to be equally useful in this whole SHIELD plan," Helena chuckles, shaking her head. "Maybe more. A little bit of lying, a little bit of rooftop climbing, a lot of picking locks and defeating security systems…" She winks, then steps over to wrap an arm around his waist for a hug.
"I appreciate the advice. I do. You're…pulling it off. Sort of. In your own way. And you've been doing it for a while. I mean, you could use some balance," she drawls. "Dad at least had Mom. That's a pro, even if she's a con." She snickers. Helena is the worst for the nerd jokes.
Dick Grayson arm snugs Helena back readily enough, he was never the one in the family that was anti-PDA, and he gives good hug, even through/around armor. "Balance is for Other People. Your dad's starting to edge out of the game a bit, spending more time with your mom, working on the company, trying to do good in Bigger Picture ways. I'm not saying he'd mellowing in his elder years, but he's mellowing in his elder years." Dick says with a grin. "There's some miles that need to be picked up because of it. Things aren't getting better out here. They're worse. You're off to the academy, Tim's helping when he can fit it in, Babs has started a home for Wayward Orphans, Jacyn's-" he stops, lets out a breath, "Jacyn-ing. I'm the only full timer left. The mission comes first." there are times he just channels Bruce, and that saying is so Bruce it's hard not to hear it in his deeper non-Dick voice when it's spoken aloud, "Besides," he says, standing up atop the pointed bit of concrete they're both sort of leaning on, then lifting one leg so that he's only standing on a single foot up there… then going to a pointed toe and rotateing on it to eye her, "Balance is my thing, remember?"
Helena rolls her eyes, though it's a fond expression. "Circus nerd," she teases. "For what it's worth, you're not alone out here. Spider-Man's out here at least once or twice a week. I tried to tell him the bats were pretty territorial, but, you know. He wants to help. Which means there's a whole skitter of spiders out there too. Numbers aren't really going down. The roster's just changing."
Dick Grayson chuckles, "Yeah, because the problem we've had here is a lack of spandex." he states evenly, "The spiders are fine I suppose and I won't eschew the help, but I'm not sold on them being the help we need. Send me an army of incorruptible detectives and politicians with the spine to support them and I'll change this whole damned island. In the interim," he shrugs, "I'll take a guy in red and blue pajamas. He tosses in a dash of yellow and I'll even whole heartedly back his costume choice." Dick grins, "I'm partial to those shades." for obvious reasons.
"If we could special-order incorruptible detectives and politicians, the world wouldn't need any heroes," Helena snorts softly, watching out over the city. "None of us would have to do any of this." She pauses, smile quirking behind her mask. "To be fair, I'm pretty sure some of us would seek this life out anyhow."
Dick Grayson shifts his stance on the parapet like outcropping and shrugs, "Well, it's not like the people who choose to do this are well adjusted or balanced. Obviously. We'd all choose to do /something/ stupid, I'm sure." he looks out over the city and lets out a breath, "Speaking of, I have to at least try to find something for our cases. Gibbs is lazy, not stupid. I keep vanishing with nothing to show for it, best case senerio is he assumes I'm on the take, but that's unlikely as I've never taken a taste before. Don't want him getting the right idea." he looks at his sister, "Keep doing what you're doing kid, just… be careful." he turns around lightly on the ball of his foot and holds his arms out at his sides wide before leaning slowly backward until he begins to tip off the edge of the building and into the darkness below, "Some of us have to work for a living." he winks behind the lenses of his mask as he topples gracefully over the edge.
"Pretty sure you've got a trust fund too," Helena calls after him, a light laugh following him into the night. Who's not well-adjusted and balanced? She passed the psych entrance exam with flying colors, thankyouverymuch. And not entirely because she already knew what the right answers were.