bittybat | (no subject)

[Up until this point, everything was very clinical for Damian, as usual. It was a mission, a goal. An in-and-out. They go into the forest, they find a mutated animal, they Lay Hands, done.

But as Dextera approaches the hybrid thing, Damian feels a twang of discomfort. Sure, this worked on him as a werewolf. Technically, he was two different things? But he was half human and half animal, not half animal and half animal.

Maybe this won't work after all. Dextera will purify so heavily it'll just obliterate it from existence because it maybe shouldn't have existed at all.

But things go (somewhat) better than expected. His wince against the awful cries softens, and he lowers the hand that had risen to begin to shield his face from the light. Oh. That's... definitely a goat noise. He steps forward, once, twice, then closes the distance.

It's... a goat!

And there's... some... parts of... a bird. Oh no.] It's--alive. You split them.

…?

[ that can’t be right. dextera looks to damian, first, turning his head toward the sound of a voice. he doesn’t want to see what he’s done, but… it turned out all right? he split them? he lets himself look back at the fruits of his labor. the goat stumbles a little, just from standing, as if it were a newborn.

he doesn’t see the “other” animal right away, but he knows that there must be two for the goat-creature to have had wings in the first place—oh.

he winces. he should be happy at the success, but there’s also… ]

One is alive.

Yeah.

[...Yeah. The goat is... cute? At least they got a goat, even if colorless and fragile.

Carefully, Damian squats down beside Dextera and reaches out to, timidly at first, pet the goat along the back to make sure... He doesn't know. It's real? It's okay? It bleats loudly and suddenly at him, and he's actually startled by how his hand jerks back.

Oh. It was just crying.] One is better than nothing. You... [He glances at Dextera, likewise feeling somewhat guilty about the bird.] You did it.

[ one is better than nothing. why couldn’t he save both? why did his brother—?

he stops his breath in his lungs, forcing himself away from that train of thought. it’s not a bad one to pursue, but not now. he and his brother were not mutated animals begging to be split apart. ]

…

[ he looks down at his own hands, frowning, before he answers damian a few moments later. ]

I should… be able… to do better.

[ and yet? the goat is cute. dextera remembers as well that the animals did not necessarily enjoy being spliced together—two sets of instincts weren’t always compatible. in the end, even if they lost the bird, this is the more humane form. ]

Focus on one thing at a time. [He knows how it feels, very much so. He knows "I should be able to do better," and then some. He knows a slight feels more like a failure.] You only tried to purify one.

With time, you might be able to purify and splice two, saving both. [Poor bird, though.] We'll say something for the bird. [For a moment or two, he doesn't say anything, but seems thoughtful. Then, quietly:] "Where eternal luster glows, the realm in which the light divine is set, place me, Purifier, in that deathless, imperishable world.

"Make me immortal in that realm where movement is accordant to wish, in the third region, the third heaven of heavens, where the worlds are resplendent." [He looks back up at Dextera as if to say,

?]

[ it seems—familiar, almost, like something dextera once read but can’t remember the name of anymore. he closes his eyes, searching back through his memories, touching on the hazy recollection of learning chess, being in a classroom, having a teacher and mentor. it would have been foolish, to try to find god in only one place. ]

A Vedic hymn.

[ he didn’t study only abrahamic religions, after all. ]

Thank you.

[Affirmatively, Damian nods. Even if he's impressed, he won't say it. He peers at the scattered remains of the bird, thinking maybe it'd be nicer to bury it, but knowing they don't exactly have the means.] The League was based in the Himalayas. [Is that too much info? He didn't say where exactly.]

People in the areas around were Hindu. [So Damian is more of a Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist boy, if anything. Not that he's religious.

With the utmost gentleness, Damian reaches out again to pat the goat on the shoulder. It's not a baby, though seems to be female with a cute, fat middle and spindly legs and dorky eyes.] What do you want to name it?

I think it's a "she." We can get milk from her.

[ dextera nods as well. the archangel knows more about this… but he supposes it’s not important in the grand scheme of this task, and he doesn’t want to think about the archangel more than he must. as for a name for the goat, does damian really want another angelic animal running around? ]

…you choose.

[ dextera is afraid to touch the goat again, but he’d like to. it’s clear in his eyes that he wants to pet her. ]

Mm. [He waits in silence, allowing the name to come to him instead of searching for one. Authenticity matters, and authenticity means being patient for it.

He straightens to his full height and moves to stand by the goat's side, letting his legs be a kind of brace if needed.] You can pet her. [In indication, he rubs the bumpy crest of her skull between the ears. She bleats.] You won't hurt her.

And she won't hurt you. [Palm up, he extends his hand toward Dextera, offering to take his--he knows what it's like to have violent hands, but wanting them to offer something soft. They can pet her together.]

Capra.

No. [That's not right either. Not quite.] Capella. That'll be her name.

[ this one, he doesn’t know. dextera hadn’t ever seen—or at least, couldn’t recall—stars before he came to this town, but he understands that the name must have some significance. he pauses, considering the sound of it in his own voice, in his head, and nods. ]

What does it mean?

[ he asks this, and then places his hand in damian’s. he wants to pet the goat. he wants to learn her name. his brother asked him to name him, too, and if he can do it as sweetly and certainly as this moment, he thinks his brother will be happy. ]

It's a star in a constellation. [Dextera's hand gets a small, reassuring squeeze, and then he pulls it to place the palm against the goat's neck with his on top. After a moment, he removes his hand so Dextera can pet her like he wants.] It means "little goat."

[See? The goat is fine. IT'S FINE. Don't look at the bird parts... The goat is fine, at least.]

In Greek myth, it represents Amalthea, the goat that nursed Zeus. He broke her horn, and it became the Cornucopia. [She has little horns, see?] The horn would fill up with whatever the owner desires.

[ hmmm.

dextera slowly allows himself to stroke along her thin, wiry fur, and it’s true enough. the goat is fine, even if she seems a little impatient the longer they force her to stand here. as she recovers from the dizziness of being separated, so does her energy recover inside her.

he brushes his thumb, very lightly, over one of the her horns. she bleats at him. ]

…and what do you desire?

[For some time, Damian doesn’t answer the question. He watches Dextera pet the goat instead. Even standing in the remnants of destruction, the goat is pure and beautiful. He loves her.

And he’s glad Dextera gets to see this good part of it.] I don’t think what I desire could fill the Cornucopia. It’s not sometthing that could “fill” anything. You can’t see it.

Well, you can see it technically, but it isn’t material.

[ dextera needs to talk to his brother. it’s pathetic that seeing this goat and talking about a horn-of-plenty is making him miss his brother this much, but hey. he didn’t choose this symbolic life. ]

It sounds like a riddle.

[ he’s not petting the goat anymore, but she’s getting brave enough now to butt at his hip, still gentle because she’s just a little weak. ]

I’d… be happy with food.

[ no he wouldn’t, but also it would be nice to have a bounteous, endless supply of fresh hearts. ]

It does. [Silly goat. He's glad it likes Dextera? He tries to start leading her, if she'll follow. They can take her to the edge of the forest and, if Dextera is finished, back to town.]

You mean bones and hearts. [Strangely, it doesn't sound disgusted or judgemental. Guren tattled on Dextera... To ease the awkwardness of the conversation at hand:] I would want--

My father to be happy.

[You can "see" it, but it isn't material.]

[ …dextera can see that his reputation precedes him, but damian is just lucky that he felt too bad about the bird’s death to eat its remains. it’s too small to have provided much benefit, anyway. ]

…

[ dextera nods, helping the goat along when damian starts to lead her. he assumes that she’ll go with damian in the end, since damian named her, but hey… maybe goats are as fickle as cats. he doesn’t really know where she’ll end up. ]

I would want the same, for my brother. [ a pause. ] If only we could do it.

[It doesn't dawn on him that he could say, "Maybe he's already happy," and it apply to the both of them. Not yet anyway. One day--maybe soon? here?--he'll understand that Bruce is already happy because he has a son.

Just like maybe XIII is already happy because he has a brother.] You said you wanted food. [He's teasing.]

Like Thanksgiving. [?] It's a holiday. I'll show you--in the fall. There's cornucopias then, as a symbol of prosperity and food. But not like the mythological Cornucopia.

Heh heh. Food is realistic.

[ damian goes on to explain thanksgiving, though, and he has dextera’s interest—he understands that it must be like a harvest festival, although he’s never really seen one of those either. the town’s doesn’t count. it’s so hard, having grown up in one building all his life and then losing his memories anyway. ]

I want to see it. I want to try—new things.

[ not hearts ]

I'll tell Midoriya. He's Japanese, and they don't exactly celebrate America's Thanksgiving, but I'm sure he'd be more than enthusiastic about trying to host one. [Damian isn't... social enough... to rally everyone. But he will ask Clark and his father for sure.] We can combine them.

[The goat seems to be okay being lead? Goat instincts. Sometimes stubborn, but enjoying the Good Life of herding. They can get her a bell or something.]

We'll have to come back and see if we can purify a turkey. But we can't let anyone eat it even if turkey is a traditional staple in Thanksgiving meals.

He can join us instead. We'll give him corn, if we have it.

Heheheh.

[ dextera can’t help it at all, when damian so efficiently decides everything about this hypothetical thanksgiving celebration they could have as if it’s a necessity.

he likes damian. ]

Let’s bring back corn. For Thanksgiving.

Okay. [Damian is fine with this. Corn is delicious, and he's vegetarian, so it's even better in the long run for him.] We'll bring back corn. And a few other things, if we can.

I think you'd like them better than bones and hearts. [He told Guren he wouldn't give Dex any nasty bones and hearts. There's tastier food. Like corn? Like... fruit. Cotton candy. Quiche. Chocolate pudding.

Coming out of the forest finally means he's starving thinking about all of the food they don't have. He misses Alfred...]

[ the saddest thing about eating bones and hearts and flesh is that he doesn’t like any of those things. he’d much rather be vegetarian, if he could—but his powers require blood and the visceral reminder of life to keep going. ]

I envy you.

[ what a mysterious thing to say! for dextera with his own train of thought known to him, however, it makes perfect sense. ]

[Dextera gets a strange expression. Damian never hears anyone who envies him. No one has ever told him they wanted to be Damian Wayne, and he's heir to one of the richest men in the world, holder of the most sought after secret.

If anything, he thinks people would envy someone like Jon. Superpowers, a health parental relationship, being kind and empathetic. Damian? He's garbage!]

There's nothing to envy. You're the one who purified Capella. I just stood there and watched. I've been in more trouble since I got here than I've done anything to help.

So there's nothing worth envying.

[ damian says that, but dextera… still shakes his head, gently denying damian his self-deprecation. ]

You’re focused. And kind. [ a beat, and he touches capella’s side. ] She thinks so, too.

[ he was able to talk to animals once, but he’s got it pretty well figured out that animals that will come near you in the first place are far more prone to liking you than hating you. he’s an animal whisperer. ]

[While he tries not to get embarrassed, it's unavoidable. It creeps into the edges of his face, and he tuts under his breath in disbelief. Kind. Him.

But the little goat gets a rub on the back of the neck. Look, he would say animals don't count, but he appreciates and values the love of animals almost more than he does the love of people. If people hate him, so what. Screw them.

If an animal hates him? He's failed at life.] Animals deserve kindness because they love you unconditionally as long as you treat them with respect.

You don't have to baby me. I know I'm not perfect. [It doesn't seem like he feels weighted by this admission. He looks ahead, but there's a hidden smile about him from the compliments.]