( there's multiple ways he could answer. ingrained training says to not accept no for an answer and get his fingers on the weapon regardless of what it costs. the little voice in his head that asks what would dick grayson do leans more towards finding an answer in between: if the zaunites don't want to hand it over, use a more peaceful resolution to develop a contingency plan against the weapon or ensure that they've put it into the hands of someone who isn't described as crazy. )
Considering your physical state, I don't see how that's relevant to you. It's not as if you could assist regardless.
( he has friends, here. companions who would lend a hand, who have capabilities beyond his own limitations. and beyond those friends, damian knows several who would lend a hand to ensure they're all safe regardless of how they feel about damian. if he doesn't get his hands on it? there are other options. )
[ That. Gets him to stop working. He sets the tools down and swivels his chair around, not to face Damian directly, but toward the open part of the room. Ace is still settled by his feet and finally looks away from the cat at Bruce.
He never liked being reminded he's in no condition to do much of anything. A sharp mind trapped in an aging cage. For a moment, he thinks about that stupid Lazarus Pit and how desperate he'd been. He'd accepted his condition then. Didn't mean he cared to have it thrown in his face.
None of the other Bats here particularly needed him. So it beg the question: ]
Then why are you here? You don't need my permission to do this. Were you just looking for someone to agree with you?
( bruce stops working. looks over to him, and damian, for a moment, considers answering the question honestly: he was looking for someone who would approve of his plan, who would justify his decision to try and get ahold of the weapon because it shouldn't just be in anyone's hands. he knew that this bruce has significantly more experience than the other, that he understands why damian would want to make sure it wasn't in the hands of someone dangerous, even if it meant angering a few other individuals.
instead of answering, damian just throws bruce a sour look, and sets his cup down so he can jump off the counter. )
[ He reaches for his cane, hauls himself upright and heads for a different part of the apartment. Somewhere that put distance and a wall between them. Damian could see himself out the same way he got in. ]
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Considering your physical state, I don't see how that's relevant to you. It's not as if you could assist regardless.
( he has friends, here. companions who would lend a hand, who have capabilities beyond his own limitations. and beyond those friends, damian knows several who would lend a hand to ensure they're all safe regardless of how they feel about damian. if he doesn't get his hands on it? there are other options. )
no subject
He never liked being reminded he's in no condition to do much of anything. A sharp mind trapped in an aging cage. For a moment, he thinks about that stupid Lazarus Pit and how desperate he'd been. He'd accepted his condition then. Didn't mean he cared to have it thrown in his face.
None of the other Bats here particularly needed him. So it beg the question: ]
Then why are you here? You don't need my permission to do this. Were you just looking for someone to agree with you?
no subject
instead of answering, damian just throws bruce a sour look, and sets his cup down so he can jump off the counter. )
I'm leaving.
no subject
[ He reaches for his cane, hauls himself upright and heads for a different part of the apartment. Somewhere that put distance and a wall between them. Damian could see himself out the same way he got in. ]