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[withintenfeet]

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[withintenfeet]

The sort of fiend that Zerxus usually fights would be staggered by the flare of protective radiance. For Bruce, it probably tickles a little.

Zerxus turns his head to arch an eyebrow, trying and failing to smother the fondly amused smile. That's easier when he gets his answer and rolls his eyes.

"Good to know I count as valuable goods." Being sassy is important, okay, but also he is blatantly stalling. "...I'm sending three of them. One to a leader, one to a captain."

Eaedalus, who went damn near seamlessly from mayor of Cathmoira to head of their makeshift community; Amara, a paladin of the Everlight they met years later. She's one of the major reasons he's comfortable leaving them for this long.

Then, very quietly, "One to my son."

[knightbynight]

Well, it feels like something. He doesn't poke it again but his eyes narrow and he very much wants to.

He nods slightly as he listens, barely acknowledging. Then quirks an eyebrow up. "Not exactly father of the year material, are you?" And particularly not this year.

Congratulations, the Prince of Hell is judging you.

[withintenfeet]

That hits like a physical blow, judging by the flinch, but his voice remains quiet and steady even as he stares forward with grim ferocity.

"He's surrounded by people who love him. People who will never stop fighting for him, or the future he deserves, or the world he was born into. Even if we fail, he'll always know what it should have been."

Then he looks behind him again, his gaze bright and piercing. "How many children in Gotham can say the same?"

[knightbynight]

That does not exactly make him happy, but it shows mostly by his expression turning... colder, and less human but somehow... prettier? for it. Something in the unnaturalness of the degree of remote and sharpness.

"I've no idea. I imagine how many grow up knowing anything at all now depends on you."

[withintenfeet]

That really should chill him, instead of intriguing - no, alluring him.

Oh, that's different, that's new, and he is not going to think about it. He's not going to look away, either, but that's just because they're having a conversation. Obviously.

"Was that a threat or an observation?"

[knightbynight]

He smiles - and not pleasantly - and holds one hand out, fingers spread. "Time will tell."

It isn't a threat. But even so, even if he were willing to definitively remove the psychological pressure and discomfort of that uncertainty....

He can't.

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus has his suspicions, and he knows they could be wishful thinking - but that doesn't really change anything, not on his part. He'll do whatever he needs to, to make life a little better for the people here.

"I guess it will." He really does need to tear his gaze away if he doesn't want to trip over something and fall on his ass, so he finally looks forward again. It's not long after that they're approaching the border, and a magnificent creature pacing a foot or so away from it.

"There," he says, as if the celestial spirit could possibly be missed, and strides over to meet his mount. The griffon bounds forward immediately, nuzzling Zerxus even as it glares at Bruce, wings flaring outwards.

[knightbynight]

Bruce's response to the griffon is... interesting.

There's something some defensive response back - red washes over his eyes with a dull glow that entirely obscures the more human appearing dark brown and there's something in the way shadows perceptibly deepen around him, and suggestion of movement within them from behind him.

But the expression on his face isn't defensive, threatening, or anything of the sort. Even with hellishly red eyes, and the griffon flaring wings and glaring, Bruce just looks... fascinated.

[withintenfeet]

Most, understandably, wouldn't see beyond the hellfire in Bruce's eyes. Zerxus reads the actual expression, though, and his lips quirk into a smile.

"Hush," he murmurs, stroking the griffon's neck. He isn't going to hurt either of us is reserved for their telepathic connection, because he doesn't want the Prince of Hell to get all pissy about it.

Then he steps back, to fish out the rest of his paper. "This is Tempus. I summoned him...gods, I was nineteen." Almost a decade before the world was broken.

It's also a lot of power for a teenager to have - Find Greater Steed is up there, when it comes to paladin spells - and his expression is rueful when he looks up again. "And no, I don't know how I managed that either."

[knightbynight]

And back to perplexed he goes - not only at that story, nor the 'audacity' of being spoken to 'that way' - but certainly of being spoken to that way.

That way being casually and seemingly comfortably.

He quite sincerely has not the first idea what to do with that. Particularly not with palpable shadows around him and his eyes doing that specific thing that they continue to do, now mostly just because he started.

"Help from somewhere," Or one, "would be the obvious answer." IMmediate answer, anyway. After this long? Less likely.

[withintenfeet]

"For most paladins, yes." He tilts his head, and Tempus turns enough to let him use the saddle as a makeshift table. Apparently, they've done this a lot.

Strapped to it are much larger satchels, and a sheathed sword that Bruce is probably getting horrible vibes from.

Zerxus, either oblivious or pretending to be, starts his first letter - to Anora, because that will be the quickest. Just informing her how long he'll be gone, how to divide certain duties between other warriors, and a few smaller requests.

[knightbynight]

He is absolutely, viscerally, deeply, repulsed by that sword. Which is of course weird enough in and of itself - yes, yes, he knows why he's having that reaction - that he creeps around a bit to squint faintly at it.

"You had that thing and you walked into Gotham without it?"

The fuck is wrong with this idiot.

[withintenfeet]

Zerxus looks up with a downright mischievous glint in his eyes as he folds his letter.

"I didn't come here to fight."

[knightbynight]

"Did you come here to die?"

Again with the almost... over the top even for a devil aloofness.

[withintenfeet]

"You keep assuming that would be easy."

Zerxus tucks his first letter into one of the satchels before stepping back from both Tempus and Bruce, spreading his arms.

"I want you to attack me. No, I don't want it to be a killing blow and yes, this does have a point."

[knightbynight]

There is absolutely no part of him that is stupid enough to not recognize 'attack me' as a set up of some stripe. Especially not from an asshole with a holy avenger and a griffon.

Who is a healer, who wants to be in Gotham for Reasons and Bruce intends to let be in Gotham -also for reasons.

He's still going to do it.

He has a serious problem with curiosity.

So he draws back, those shadows solidify even more around him and then lash out, hard and fast at Zerxus with, for all intents and purposes as though they have taken physical, cutting, form.

Fire? Nah. He's much more into the dark. ...and just a touch safer.

[withintenfeet]

It's not that the attack doesn't hit, and judging by the grunt of pain it's not entirely ineffective. But it doesn't slice as deep as it should, and the moment they touch Zerxus the shadows change, fading and flickering until they're talons of pure silver light arcing right back at Bruce.

It's not a lot of damage - exactly half, in fact - but the implication is huge. This is a paladin who's taken the Oath of Redemption, and reached the highest tier of mortal power, and Bruce hasn't even heard of him. He isn't a Champion of any god -

But I'm sure Raei adores him all the same. His father's words are dripping with contempt. What exactly do you think you're doing?

[knightbynight]

Bruce is a stoic man - incredibly so.

That he does not react at all to his attack being changed and sent back to him, even cut (pun intended) in half is a sign. With any luck at all, it'll be written off as any of a dozen things that have nothing to do with reality. Like an instinctive desire to just fucking freeze in place, because there is a much bigger threat than Zerxus now.

"There's nothing quite as arrogant as an overly confident paladin. You haven't answered my question."

Gathering information and buying time to do it in. That's not a lie. It just cuts off before the 'end game'. He just wants to know and truthfully if Gotham benefits... good.

[withintenfeet]

If it was most anyone else, he'd recognise dread for what it is; he's seen every flavour of fear in every kind of face, after all.

But even he hasn't spent much time chatting to archdevils, and it isn't exactly hard to assume that Bruce is just being unflappable as an intimidation tactic.

Zerxus still doesn't answer his question, not immediately; he takes a moment to heal the damage, though it doesn't do anything to mend his armour.

Hmm. Sceptical, but less hostile, at least on the surface. He is intriguing, I suppose, and he seems to have connections.

"No, I did not come here to die. I came here to make a difference."

Ugh.

[knightbynight]

He waves his hand at the man. "Finish writing your letters, then." Snappish and a bit dismissive, before he settles back and continues to watch, just with a bit less overt curiosity.

The desire to help is a very easy thing to leverage over the course of a year. As is whatever's made him willing to leave his son.. End goal? Sure. It can be finding out what those connections are and how to turn the man himself into leverage. There's something more there.

He truly isn't an idiot.

...Helping Gotham is still not a terrible thing. He still wants to know more for the sake of knowing and because something about that level of audacity is compelling.

His end goal is still what works, here.

[withintenfeet]

It's a profound shift in demeanour, and Zerxus holds his gaze just long enough to show that he's noticed, and to avoid following his directive immediately. He's got standards.

Then he starts penning the letter to Eaedalus. This one takes longer, between the strategic matters and the personal ones. The Okiros are family, and that means they're the primary people he trusts Elias with when he's away like this.

You aren't wrong. Sharp and wary, but with an edge of earnest pride. (Or as earnest as the Father of Lies ever gets, at least.) So much pride, too - I almost want him for myself.

Teasing, more than warning; Asmodeus can take whatever he wants, they both know that, but he's generally happy to let Bruce have his own toys.

[knightbynight]

Uh huh. Notice, write your letters and keep your mouth about noticing. Bruce is busy - though still keeping an eye on things and noting the length of that letter.

That's the one to whoever has his son..... That isn't exactly an intentionally directed thought, just an observational thought that he is aware will be heard. Pride. Arrogance. Desperation and something to prove.

Does he want Asmodeus to 'take' Zerxus? Absolutely not. He's been here for a long time. It would take a lot of investment and unlearning to even contemplate protesting. Not that he's never a... problem for his father, but when he is it certainly isn't casually.

He's also spoiled and generally expects to get what he wants.

[withintenfeet]

Attraction. Oh, that one is definitely teasing. (Zerxus sure didn't mention another parent in that self-defence...) All things you've taken fine advantage of before.

Zerxus remains utterly oblivious, of course; he's about halfway through, writing quickly and smoothly, though he scratches things out a few time. It's difficult, striking the balance between being honest and avoiding too much worry.

He's definitely not from one of the greater cities, judging by that armour. There aren't many of those left - there's the Dawn City, beloved of the other side of the family, a few championed by the greatest of mortal heroes or stubborn demigods, fucking Aeor - but they thrive within their limited borders. A paladin like this would be in mithral plate and the finest of capes.

I suggest finding a replacement, we don't want to be embarrassed. It doesn't need to be armour - he didn't come here to fight, after all.

[knightbynight]

And attraction. He hadn't actually, truly, noticed on a conscious level, but that didn't mean he wasn't aware. Largely by default, in fairness. Bruce is attractive, knows he is, and is well acquainted with how to use that.

He's just also fascinated by this specific man. Still watching him as he writes as a matter of fact.

I'll find something for him to wear that will help him 'blend in'. It's an easy argument to make. Am I suggesting he send his armor home, or do you have some particular desire for it? to stay within Gotham or very specifically and personally.

Why would his father? ...because he can?

[withintenfeet]

Oh, absolutely not, the sooner he gets rid of it the better. I think he means to send that sword off, too. Asmodeus sounds blatantly intrigued about that one. Holy Avengers aren't something he has to worry about, of course, but the power they hold in any other context is considerable.

Meanwhile, Zerxus finally finishes the second letter and starts the third and final one. Or, well, he writes his son's name and then stares at the blank page, quill hovering just above it.

Then he writes I love you, and stops again.