damian calls the shots (forthecowl) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-05-29 23:51:00 |
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Entry tags: | damian wayne |
Who: Roger with Damian in his mind
What: Almost murder. Right before Roger and Damian go missing.
Where: The Strip
When: Tuesday night
Warning: Talk of violence.
Roger pulled a grey hood over his eyes and reached into his soft pocket for the switchblade the size of a flattened highlighter. He was used to guns or explosives, but killing a man in public had to be quick and traceless. A switchblade could cut a throat in seconds and leave such a mess that people were too concerned with the blood that they missed the man responsible. It wasn't something Roger had done since Florida, where the rules were more lax than even Nevada, so his nerves threatened to get the better of him. If he wanted to put an end to this tonight, he'd have to forget about the consequences. Even if he was caught and thrown in jail, it wouldn't matter. His family wouldn't have to worry about some psychopath.
He leaned his back against a wall in the darkness and waited. You can't do this. Damian tried, with that arrogant sternness that was so Wayne it was getting annoying as all hell. Roger didn't understand the no kill code. He knew Damian wouldn't stay true to it when it came down to protecting people he cared about, even if the kid meant well. There were thinkers in this world like Batman, there were sweethearts like MK and there were killers like Damian and himself. They could try to change their colors, but the hesitation only made them sloppy. Inefficient. So, you're just going to murder anyone who comes close to your family? Damian asked, pacing in the back of Roger's mind.
You told her to shoot him.
I knew she couldn't kill.
The two went quiet as Las Vegas buzzed, laughed and chattered. Roger caught sight of a slim man of the same description of his target and started moving a couple yards behind him. His thumb rubbed the plastic holding his knife. He'd kill and run. Run all the way to Passages and let Damian take on the Talons. You'll end up like my grandfather. You'll try to wipe the world clean and there won't be a soul left but you. Damian was relentless, naming off all the men and women that would have to die for the both of them to be truly safe. The list was endless, covering names spanning over both worlds and several doors. Roger could see the bodies piling up, the blood he'd have to spill to make it all clean.
Before he knew it, Roger was walking off the strip, towards Passages. The knife was thrown somewhere into the sand as he pushed his hood back and eyes set on the horizon. They'd destroy the Talons because they weren't living men anymore. They'd spare the Owls because they were.