bakerstreet | Fantasy AU Meme

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Fantasy AU Meme

Fantasy AU Meme

1. Comment with your character. You can leave your comment blank or type up a prompt if you know what you want already.
2. Someone else will tag your character and roll a number between 1 and 8. This will be their role. If you haven't decided on a role yet, you can roll after they post.
3. Get creative and have fun.

1. Royalty

You are the prince or princess of a faraway kingdom. Are you a kind and generous ruler or are a royal pain? Maybe it's that time for you to think about the future and start looking for a husband or bride. Have you ever been outside the castle walls? Do you have any interest in stepping outside your cozy world at all?

2. Runaway Prince/Princess

Whatever the reason, you couldn't take living in the castle anymore! You packed up a few belongings (or maybe a few too many) and now, you are on the run! How long you've been on the run is up to you. Be careful that no one finds out who you are or they might send you back to the castle and you wouldn't want that!

3. Knight in Shining Armor

Are you in the kingdom to fight in a tournament? Maybe you are being sent away to slay the evil dragon? Whatever your purpose is, you are a noble and loyal knight sworn to serve. . . whether you like it or not.

4. Magician

You are the greatest magician in all the land! . . . Or are you? You can be a few things with this: The court magician, an evil wizard, or maybe magic is forbidden in your kingdom and you're keeping your powers a secret. And what is your power? Can you cure an illness, make love potions, blow things up, or are you dabbling in the dark arts and a master of curses?

5. Enchanted creature

Your character can be any fantastic creature-- dragon, unicorn, mermaid, Tinker Bell, or perhaps you were once a human but some horrible spell has turned you into what you are now. Beware! There are some who might want to harm you for one reason or another. . . or maybe the humans are the one who should be aware of you.

6. Questionable occupation

Gotta eat to live and you gotta steal to eat. Whatever your place in society is right now, it's not a good one. You don't have a problem breaking the law to accomplish whatever it is you want (or need) to do. You might be the pirate king that terrorizes the coastal kingdoms or a common thief stealing just to get a meal. Once the officials get their hands on you, it's to the dungeons with you!

7. Commoner

Who are you? No one special. .. or are you? Maybe you're the servant and close friend of someone at the castle. But then again, you might be someone on the outside that daydreams of what it's like in the castle. You are just a commoner and that will never change. . . or maybe destiny has something bigger in store for you.

8. Roll Again/Your Choice

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Dick had been allowed to train, he'd been allowed to fight in tournaments, allowed to show off his skills, but you could forget running off into the dark to investigate curious goings on. You could forget actually doing anything worthwhile or interesting. He was the firstborn, he had responsibilities, he had to become a leader and a ruler and a hundred other things he had no idea if he could do, so he'd left. Given it all up for this, and most days he wasn't sure he regretted it at all.

He allowed Damian to take the lead since he was the one able to track the source of the smoke, following along as quickly and quietly as he was able, which was actually pretty stealthy, just not when you compared it to Damian.

Soon enough, Damian didn't need to lead. The glow was much too bright and much too big to be a campfire, too.

Damian paused for a moment to catch the picture. A young couple, frightened and upset. A scraggy semi-circle of men threatening them against a wall that will catch fire any moment.

And the frightened wail of a child from inside the cottage.

He started moving without conscious decision to. Inside, to get the child out. Grayson could deal with the ruffians. And if his shadow flared, dark and too large, the moment he rushed into the flames... well. That should help those prepared for such a thing, shouldn't it?

It wasn't that he couldn't get burned. Or suffocate in the smoke. Maybe those wouldn't kill him, but they would cause damage. But his tolerance for pain was significantly greater.

If the child had a chance for survival, it had Damian's name.

That. That moment, or any moment like it, was exactly the reason that Dick would always trust Damian, would always believe in him. Not in the way their father did, where he spoke about trust and morality and doing the right thing, and then retreated to his demon-warded library, where he knew exactly how he would take Damian down if he ever gave in to that side of his heritage.
Dick knew that Damian was a good person, whether he was being particularly demonic or not, because when there was a fight and a rescue in front of him, he'd gone straight for the rescue, no questions, no thought, he'd just gone.

"Well, look at you boys," he stepped cheerfully out of the shadows, twirling his knife in his hand, attracting the men's attention.

"You going to stop us with that little knife, boy?" one of them sneered. Dick's hand blurred and a second later the sneering man was crumpling to the ground, Dick's knife buried in his thigh.

"No, actually," he answered, drawing his sword with a flourish "I thought I'd use this, instead."

The fight was quick, for all their bravado they weren't really up to fighting a trained knight (even if he wasn't exactly that any more) and the remains of their band soon fled when they realised just how badly they were outclassed.

"Are you alright?" he turned to the couple, sheathing his sword.

The man had a welt along his cheek and he was keeping one arm against his chest; he looked at the night somewhat numbly, trying to comprehend this turn of events, his other hand still around his wife. Her nightgown was tattered, but it was her eyes, turned towards the cottage, that were wild, an edge of hysteria creeping in her voice.

"My baby, they wouldn't let her take out my baby, I can't hear her crying anymore, WHO IS IN THERE WITH MY BABY?"

"Lor..."

That was when Damian burst back out of the window, soot and ashes on his face and twin tracks running down his cheeks from the irritant in what was left of air, inside. He was carrying a small shape, tiny even in his arms, a cloth covering her mouth and nose.

He ran in the direction there the wind was blowing from. For a stumbling definition of running.

"Too much smoke," he coughed, setting the girl down and ripping the cloth away to give access to fresh air, and then he doubled up to the side, hacking, himself.

The girl was alive, though very weak, trying to breathe in, but it only worked shallowly and she coughed more, feebly, but all the time. "Winy of... the Night. Help her..."

Because Damian couldn't.

Dick was about to try and reassure the couple that their baby would be safe when Damian came bursting out of the cottage with the bundle in his arms. If he was entirely honest, Dick would have to admit that his first instinct was to check on his brother, but he forced himself to trust that Damian was ok and moved to the child.

He lifted her carefully, frowning at her continued breathing difficulty. He rubbed her back gently and there may or may not have been a faint glimmer of blue light underneath his fingers. The child coughed up a particularly unpleasant looking mixture, but she was breathing easier afterwards.

Those forces he hadn't understood in the past? He'd learnt to understand them.

Good call. Damian would have been much worse off if the girl had died. Much.

As it was, he huddled on the ground for a moment, taking normal air in as deeply as his lungs would allow, relieved that Grayson did have something to do. Watching the mother fall against her daughter, and starting to wave the father's gratitude away, before he gritted his teeth and changed his mind.

"Does your arm need setting?" He was keeping an eye on the other man - magic rarely came without a price to pay - but they weren't going to leave this half-done. Calling a healer at this time of night was going to be hard, out here, even if the family could afford one, after the fire. There were things that could be rescued inside - the place was burning more brightly - and smokily - than metal-melting hot, but not right now, and they would have trouble.

"I'm... not sure."

"Let me see."

The man winced at the harsh command in the boy's tone, but after a moment's hesitation let him. Damian's fingers were careful enough, and, after a moment, he nodded and got up to lope at the nearest tree with straight enough branches for a cast. Two branches. Strips torn from clothes to tie in with.

"This'll hurt. But once it's set, it'll hurt less than now."

He didn't wait for acknowledgement. Pulled, twisted, and set it. The man screamed, but Damian was holding his elbow too tightly for him to pull away. When the attempt weakened, he reached for the makeshift cast, tying it on silently.

He knew what he was doing. Less so, how to minimize trauma.

"You'll have to forgive my brother," Dick said with an apologetic smile, once he'd made certain the child was going to be alright and passed her back to her frantic mother "his bedside manner is hardly ideal, but he does know what he's doing, your arm will heal well."

Damian gave a quick look from under his hood, is it safe to reveal family relations? on his mind, but he finished fastening the cast, instead of answering.

Then he moved to the men that Grayson had felled, tying them securely and making a show of searching them for coins.

Which (maybe with some helping of his own, but that was not likely to be easy to notice) he set down beside the girl's head, not touching any of them again. And he went to stand beside the black-and-blue-clad figure.

It probably wasn't the smartest thing he could have said, though the family were too sjaken up to really look closely at their benefactors. He'd probably have to start being much more careful - his own 'uncanny resemblance' was easy emough to explain away, but with two of them? They couldn't be too obvious, not until they were much further from the castle, anyway.

He bowed to the small family and motioned Damian to follow, heading back into the woods.

And he did. For a long time. Silent and tense and a half-step behind Grayson, no matter what they were moving through.

In the end, all that he allowed himself was a shaky breath out.

Once they were far enough away and the trees had started to thin, Dick paused, turning to Damian abruptly.

"There's an inn nearby, we should get some rest, put some distance behind us in the morning. ...are you alright?"

Damian nodded. Rest right now was probably the best idea.

"I am unharmed. Angry... they were just going to leave her there." That was. As much as he was willing to say right now. He wouldn't have been able to help, either. His powers, as they were, were powers of chaos. He could have made the fire a lot hotter, for example. Mashed the man's arm irreparably very easily. Snuffed out the girl's life. Stopped what might have happened back there, alone? No.

Instead, he motioned towards Grayson's hand, the one that he'd used powers with. Then up at him. "Are you?"

Dick nodded slightly, expression solemn. He understood what Damian was going through, he'd been through it himself the first time he'd swooped in to save the day.
"You saved her, you did that, she would be dead if it wasn't for you" he said firmly. That was how you had to think about it, not the bad that could have happened, but the good that did.

He glanced down at his hand, tucking it quickly in his pocket before Damian could see the burn now spread across his palm.
"Fine, let's go to that tavern"

"Grayson!" It was an exasperated whisper, but he didn't reach to try and take a look. That was going to wait until they were in the tavern on inn or whatever.

"Let's," he said instead.

But, before he turned in the direction that had been indicated, his hand rose. Just to touch the man's elbow. He wasn't even sure why, but it seemed the thing to do. Reassure both of them in each other's presence by touch, maybe.

Dick had always been a very physical person, though he was very aware that the rest of his family were not, so that one small touch spoke volumes to him. He almost turned and hugged Damian again, but he knew that would be pushing his luck.

Instead, he gave the younger boy a brilliant smile, lifting a reassuring hand to Damian's shoulder in return before heading off, leading the way towards the tavern.

Somehow, against Damian's better sense and reason, all it took was one of Grayson's smiles to make things a little better. He didn't understand that. He certainly shouldn't be trusting it, not after the time away. But it was a fact.

He dipped his face deeper into the cowl to conceal the fact that it brightened somewhat. And followed.

The only time he stopped was when they passed a clear spring, to kneel and fill his flask with fresh water. In case it was necessary for washing anything, at the tavern. He couldn't know what would be available there, could he?

Then he hurried to catch up.

When they reached the place, he was going to let Grayson do the talking. As usual.

When they arrived at the tavern, it was obvious that Dick had been there before. A lot. He was greeted with a somewhat mixed reaction, the staff were certainly pleased to see him, but certain members of the clientele were giving him murderous looks - he didn't seem to notice.

"New ally, Dick?" the bartender asked as Dick made his way over "he looks familiar..."

"He's just a kid, you won't have seen him anywhere before," Dick waved away the interest "probably just looks like someone. Can we get a room for the night?"

He paid for the room and bought drinks before heading to a table in the corner, motioning Damian to follow him.

Since it was late to put the cowl back on when the bartender thought him familiar, Damian had to satisfy himself with making his face look... grumpier than he usually allowed himself in public, and looking down, to hide some of it.

He followed without a word until the door was closed behind them.

"Stupid stupid stupid. Should have kept the hood up."

After a moment's thought, he finally let out some of the pent-up anger out. It was tightly controlled, a bare hint of red-orange tint traveling the air outward from him...

And the beds in the entire tavern were free of bedbugs. Chaos, destruction, death - those were things he could use his powers for. Up to him how, though. And he was learning.

That complete, he sagged slightly, but his face eased a little, cleared. Deep breath.

"You come here often?"

"It's fine, the sort of people that come here, it's in everybody's best interest if they immediately forget anybody looking 'familiar'," he explained, trying to reassure Damian. He watched almost in fascination as the younger boy released his anger, he was always vaguely interested in the skills Damian had from his ... other heritage. Not that he wanted Damian to completely give in to them, but he was sure they had their uses.

"I'll drop a few hints about which direction we're going and then we'll go a different way, just in case anybody does get too curious," he added, though he desperately wanted to ask about what Damian had just done and how.

"I... drop by now and then."

It was a harsh balance. Not using any led to a build-up that they had discovered was a bad idea. Using them too freely made them harder to control, especially when he was trying to do so against his grain. Which was, by this point, nearly always. So trickling them out it was.

Now he shed the cloak, draping it over the back of a chair that he climbed into, feet up on the edge so his chin rested on his knees. Thinking over what was happening and what they were doing...

His head snapped up.

"Do you need the hand looked at?"

"Oh..." he tugged his hand out of his pocket and inspected it "No, it'll be fine, it should heal soon enough."

Drawing the smoke out of the child's lungs had been a simple enough trick, so the backlash had only been mild, a small price to pay to save somebody's life as far as he was concerned.
Normal human magic usually involved ritual, incantations or ingredients, methods designed to keep the forces balanced and protect a body not really designed to be a magical conduit. Dick didn't usually bother with it, he only used magic in emergencies and there was never any time for the ritual then.

"Good." Damian breathed out, eyes on the palm, now that it was visible, before he looked away and tucked his chin on top of his knees again.

And then, because, while it would be hard to guess he cared, he did know his family rather well by now, he added, "when was the last time you got any actual sleep?"

Dick shrugged off his cloak, throwing it over the back of a chair and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I slept last night, actually." he said defensively. Well, he'd had a nap, before deciding to come check on Damian again, and he hadn't really slept very well, but that still counted, right?

"Actual sleep, Grayson."

A hint of irritation through the calmer tiredness that had followed the release.

"Because I can take watch and you can. Take your time."

"Well... maybe a couple of hours... but I'll wake up to watch in a bit." he turned towards the bed, tugging off his shirt and revealing the network of scars that criss-crossed almost every inch of skin.

"Wake me up when you get tired, ok?" he drops down onto the bed, immediately curling up into the blanets and dropping off for what felt like the first time in a long time. He could actually trust Damian enough to really get some sleep.

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