To our Utopia [Talia]

[Deleted]

A light breeze danced across the tree tops of Gotham's largest Park, knocking a few large oak ones from their resting spots on the branches of the City's oldest citizens. Picked up by a sudden updraft they were lifted from their dorminant state high above the forrest below and out across the stretch of water that dominated the centre of the area, a lake which was brimming with small boats built for no more than two as families enjoyed themselves in the sun. Continuing on, caught in the gale that lifted it further, the leaves weaved in between a series of multi coloured kites held by children on the ground, kites which dotted the pale blue sky with red, green and yellow. Now downwards the last leaf shot, struck by a lack of tail wind to carry it further, down to a secluded spot over looking the tranquil area where only one man sat alone, a book in one hand and small bag in the other.

Eyes that matched the grass around him watched a leaf drift lazily to the ground in front of his right shoe. Though he had been well engrossed in the novel sat in his hands, Utopia by Thomas More, Ra's had taken the time to watch the leaf on the last leg of its journey before returning to his thought provoking read. As one hand held the book, the other grabbed for the crumbs that sat in the bag placed on his lap, crumbs which he threw to the few pigeons that sat near him, pecking away at the relative feast he was awarding them. The book was an original of course, bought by Ra's in 1516 while visiting France for the first time, however ironically for the imortal man, he never found the time to finish it. Every ten years or so he read another handful of pages before shifting his focus onto something more practical, and as he knew that he would be waiting for at least fifteen minutes in the Park, he decided to take it from his archieve to pass the time.

If there was ever a book to embody his dreams for the World it was this one, which advoated personal responsibility and a lack of superficial materialism while at the same time promising the enforcing of strict rules and legislation against those who would rebel against the State. No guards were with Ra's today, not that he believed that he ever needed them. If anyone was stupid enough to confront him, so be it, it is within their right to challenge him to a fight, though their chances of winning are slim to none. After six hundred years perhaps potential foes are finally growing weary of his status, as they weigh up the probability that they'll suceed where hundreds have failed. Today would be the first time in at least three years since he had seen ones of his Daughters, Talia, the one supposedly closest to him. For years he had need for her skills elsewhere in the World, whether she be inflitrating a conglomerate in Hong Kong or removing a rogue Cell in Rome.

But now Gotham was his main focus, it was an infected wound which grows more stagnant with every passing day no thanks to the Detective, a man sworn to maintain the failed establishment of corruption and decadence. But soon all of that would change, thanks to the guiding hand of the League, and who better to help him than his closest operative, his own flesh and blood. Placing the book down upon his lap next to the bag, Ra's closed his eyes and sat lazily in the pleasant sunlight which shone down unto his gaunt face.

[Deleted]

The call to return had been half a world away, weeks ago. It had not been difficult to extract herself from her current situation, nor had it been difficult to relocate on such short notice. All things considered, when one has survived years and years, it was short. And there were no immediate requests, urges, or hidden prompts in his short missive.

Thusly she had reacted accordingly. And as the city held a fondness to both of their hearts, as much as one could say of the al Ghul lineage, she had been aware of minor happenstances going on in the city. As ever, Bruce was doing what he did best, which was lackluster and narrow-minded, in her opinion. And forever falling short of her dear, dear father's expectations as well.

Thankfully, they had both been in agreement after nearly a year's worth of discussions on that topic. It was not a swift decision, yet it had been one they had both shared a rare smile over. To see father and daughter cherish the moment was a sight to see. One that one was only shared between the two.

So now, after stopping in to a few of her favorite haunts in this great metropolis of concrete and filth, Talia found herself with a piping hot cup of tea, carefully cradled between her gloved hands as she made her way across the park, winding through couples hand-in-hand, children playing, and the several other oddities she crinkled her nose at. She'd done her best to blend in, dark hair plaited over her shoulder, boots, slim cut denim, and a longer sweater. It was not hard for her to spot the elder al Ghul, eyes closed, no guards with him as she noted none of the passersby cared to give her any recognition.

Quietly she sat beside him on the bench, this time keeping her disdain for his attire to herself as she noted his book, and the birds surrounding at his feet. "It seems you have your own followers today, of a different nature." She stated quietly, in their native tongue.

[Deleted]

Eyes shut tight, lids pressed firmly together, the cool wind massaging his gaunt cheeks yet his mind was a swirl amidst this other wise tranquil setting. Scorched earth and howling voices etched themselves in his already contorted mind which now more than ever felt stretched and pulled to tatters. Moments of peace gave him time to think and as he thought he remembered and there are certain things that a six hundred year old man wishes he could forget. A face of a woman flashes behind his eyes, the first and last woman he would ever truly love. And when Ra's heard approaching foot steps moving towards him across a gravel path way he knew that one of the only other women in his life was here. Opening his eyes to a ray of light only blocked by the figure before him, his face remained still and becalmed.

"Feed them and they come true but beyond that they show no more loyalty to you than any other man with a bag of crumbs. But over time they grow fat and slow due to their greed as they failed to question where their food source came from or why it was provided in the first place. Then when they can fly no more....I'm sure you can imagine what happens next." Once he's finished with his warming anecdote he throws another handful from the bag to the complacent birds who continue to nibble on the bread remains. Obviously such sinister talk was not new to them, Ra's made it a point of reaffirming old lessons, which he hoped that his favorite daughter had taken to heart. As of yet she hadn't disappointed him, her eagerness for further teachings did her justice as a child, forming her into an austere and respectful young adult, a daughter any father would be proud of. Yet in her Ra's saw her mother, one of the last women he held closely, who passed away during child birth for the sake of a daughter, not the hoped son. The disappointment would forever linger in his eyes.

With matters heating up in Gotham, the League would need to be at its strongest which meant that Talia would need to be by his side so that her true usefulness could be applied thoroughly. "Talia, your work in the East has been most affable, you do your cause the honor deserved. But now there has been a shift, the pieces have begun to align and we must take our stand in this,' he gave a slow gesture to the surrounding skyscrapers,' if we are to adapt and thrive as we always have. Steal yourself from fear and doubt and your aim will be true." The League had plenty of killers, and Talia was among the best but what he had planned would require a less violent approach for now, one which would be best suited the Daughter of many faces who held many lives, each in their own cradle of influence.

[Deleted]

"You are still talking about the birds, no? Because it would be an apt description for many, many times in our lives, Father." Learning from a young age that the Head of the Demon rarely spoke in nothing less than riddle, parable and three levels deep contempt for those less of him had brought her to cultivate a rather keen sense of humor. Or lack thereof in some cases. In one tongue, the same words would take on an entirely different meaning. In another language, the same turn of phrase could be insulting. It was always smart to be able to converse in more than one way. Intelligence was a standard, a bar in which a person's breeding could be tallied in a quick moment of conversation.

After responding in such a manner, she sips her tea, understanding that quiet does not mean a lack of something, but a welcome respite to the world's business. A slight pause to recollect oneself.

As he continued to speak, she noticed that he had offered her a slight moment of kindness, her own dedication to the name, the vision, and the purpose of his finely crafted regime noticed for once. The small crumb was acknowledged with the faintest of incline from her head, her deep eyes still focusing on the frenetic activity of the birds at their feet.

"I shall be as unwavering as silk in the wind." She already had made connection with several of their people, and had kept abreast of the situation in Gotham. Things had gotten sloppy, and even it's own protector had missed opportunities. Thankfully, due in part to her own obsession with the city, as well as her diligence to her cause, she had not let such moments flee from her own observations.

[Deleted]

Taking a stand from the wooden bench that he had been arched upon, Ra's extended himself fully upright, pocketing the bag into his coat's interior. As he turned from the seat and his daughter, his fingers buttoned together his slate jacket before he corrected the lapels with a quick tug. Though patient to a fault, his preference when talking was to be always on the move as he found that the pace of the conversation helped him clear his mind. And so he continued down the beaten track that stretched down before them, lightly dimmed by the over hanging leafed branches of the trees positioned either side of the pathway. He made no gesture for Talia to follow, he never would, it was an expectation that he held. Beams of crisp light managed to peak through the cracks in the sage canopy above, casting deep shadows on the gravel by his feet.

"Our plans are finally coming to fruition, Daughter. We only need to tighten the noose and Gotham will fall, and that is where you are required to play your part. The Project will begin on time." A passing glance is given to the pocket watch that hung from his waistcoat, now opened in the palm of his hand before being stored away again. "A few weeks ago I met with Falcone and I was able to barter and arrangement with the man, in that he'll make sure that the land will be free through any means while we provide him with equipment and extra funding, a paltry sign of our allegiance to his Family." Naturally Ra's had no intention to remain allies with a thug such as Carmine Falcone for any longer than he needed to, though working through puppet organisations did remove any unwanted suspicion.

Falcone would squeeze the Slums by forcing any squatters out of the occupied buildings while making life a living hell for any brave citizen unwilling to sell up and move out. All that mattered was the land, without that Gotham's salvation would never pass. "There has been a development in the leadership debate however, one which may slow our plans in the long run. Strange has been made Head of Operations but not Warden, instead that honour has been granted to the fool who couldn't control the last insititute he was in charge of: Dr. Jeremiah Arkham." If all was to go to plan the City's local Government would have made Hugo Strange head of Arkham City, instead they have chose to go with a safer option, a man they know can provide satisfying results. What type of man Arkham is will need to be further examined but for now Ra's only needed to know how to adapt to this unforseen incursion.

"Not only does this prove that we can't rely on the City Council, it also questions how well we will be able to maintain a hold of matters. With Strange it would have been easy, Arkham however will take some time to win over but I have faith that you'll find some way to persuade the Good Doctor to be cooperative." It was known that Talia made infiltration a work of art, that she could persuade anyone of anything if given enough time. And for this reason she was now called to Gotham, to keep an eye on Dr. Arkham so that they're work may go impeded.

[Deleted]

Years upon years of observance had her standing mere seconds after he rose. She had been disciplined beyond his best assassins, to the point if she was not to be recognized as his heir, she would be appealed to as his right hand. Her father, even if he were the great al Ghul, the head of the Demon, was still her patron, her forebear, her father. And her father liked to be on the move, be it striding, drilling, practice, or for leisure.

And it mattered none to him that she follow. She would be at his side, or she would be forgotten. A lesson learned before she had seen her tenth year. A harsh lesson for a child, especially an unwanted daughter. And over the years, she had learned how to deal with this utterly fatal flaw, and how to mold herself to receive what she could from the great man.

As he lectured grandly, as he was wont to do, she nodded. Her own role had already been in place, her part played to perfection. Hariq had laughed as she had called him, their conversation touching on this, and that, gentle conversation in her native tongue before turning to more notable topics such as business and what to do when her feet hit Gotham's soil.

Raising her brow at the mention of the mobster she tried to minimize her surprise. Falcone? The father, or the daughter? It was a situation much like her own, yet Sofia was...volatile. The Father was much much more calm. Stoic, if need be. A consummate businessman, but lacking. There was only one man who she knew that did business transactions as if he were breathing. But this was not a time to think upon that. Or Him. And how he was failing so completely in protecting his city. If she were so easily able to set herself up in three places, effortlessly, he either had to be aware, or he was just not paying enough attention.

Raising her paper cup to sip at the hot tea, she continued to say nothing as she was filled in on the situation. The plan, the 'Project' as her creative father so coined it. As a few more names were tossed into the conversation, a small smile did flit across her lips. Strange was one thing. Arkham was now in charge of the project? This could be entertaining, at the very least. The man was professional, yet like all men, he held an ego, and a drive that she had not seen on this continent in eons.

"Considering the benefit to raise money for the retrofitting was successful, it sounds like the Good Doctor needs to have a follow up appointment with a representative of the benefactor, Father. As well as an offer of manpower. It shall be taken care of." And will joy, the task would be accomplished. As they continued along the path, Talia reached out an arm to link with the elder al Ghul's. "Now, tell me how you have been. Enough of work." She stated. Even if she could never achieve what he wished in a son, she could be dutiful and inquire after him in their time apart, while she had been away working.

[Deleted]

How often could he afford himself to allow a smile? Not often enough. But as his daughter took him by the arm, from a passing perspective you would see the pair as any other father/daughter couple merely enjoying each other's company. It was only moments such as this, when they were away from the presence of the League that they could truly communicate in a manner more traditional for a family pairing, when expectations would not drive a rift between them. For all his faults, perhaps his most unforgivable was the manner in which he had raised his children. Of course he loved them, but as a man loves his car or a woman loving a certain fragrance. In his eyes they were his property however as they bore the al Ghul name they deserved a level of protection and guidance above that of the average person. As part of his legacy, they required impeccable maintaining. In the end he wanted what was best for her, and he believed that what is best for his is being by his side, serving the League to the best of her abilities.

"See to it personally, there can be no mistakes, Talia. It is vital that we maintain dominance through out this process, other wise it will all have been for nothing. Arkham is an unforseen prediction, one which could spiral out of control if we fail to place him under our gaze." The Arkham development can only have one master, one aim, one inevtiable outcome and if the League doesn't take the reigns someone else will, someone with goals less pure than their own. Sand gravel crumpled under the heel of his black loafers as a pair of female joggers ran past, chatting to each other about their favourite television show which was on the previous night. Further down the path a family strolled along at their own pace, enjoying the moment. A father held onto a mother, who in turn held onto a little girl, no more than five. Most people in his postion would look at them and long for their life, the ignorance in which they find their bliss would be appealing to a man burdened by the cruel truth of existance. But Ra's felt nothing, they were sheep mindlessly moving to the slaughter house and he felt no pity for the sheep who do not question their meaningless path in life. What he needed was lions.

Beams of sunlight cut through the green leaves above, splintering into fractions on the ground below. He continued to hold onto his daughter, walking arm in arm with her down the aisle between the grass towards the large lake that spanned the centre of the park. The question about his personal well being struck him as odd, possibly because he would have forgot to ask her about such things. "Being in the City does me no favours. The stagnant air invades my lungs and chokes me a little bit more than it did the previous day as each breath I draw feels like anfront to my body." Taking his other hand from his trouser pocket, he stroked his gaunt face, running his fingers through the black beard that covered his jaw. "And what of you?"

[Deleted]

As they paced the park's lengths, she had to inwardly sigh. All this meeting and shows of confidence with Arkham were mere cordial motions. The staffing had already been replaced, as Alexander had set up after his bacchanalian endeavors to show that both Metropolis and Gotham could unite to clean up the darkness in the younger city. The man of tomorrow, always seeking to better things. And considering he'd polished Metropolis to a fine gleam, his sights were now oddly focused on Gotham.

"I shall do it with the precision you have instilled in me to achieve in every endeavor for the path of Enlightenment, Father. I am only waiting on Hariq to call me in to finalize formalities with Jeremiah. We have our people within already." She had been months ahead of the little benefit, slowly turning over staff and retrofitting and shuffling this and that. If there was ever a task so dull, this was one of the few she had been not able to entirely burn from her memory.

"There are precautions set in place as well, Abba. If there is nothing less, you can be assured that even in my faults I have learned how to overcome them and to strive for better heights in my imperfections. Do forgive my err in not keeping you abreast of each step in it's execution. I do know you trust me to carry out your wishes with keen exacts." Any less would be shameful. And not fitting of her name.

As he lapsed into quiet contemplation she knew from years of attending him he was debating over his plans. There was no need to speak on them, for she already knew he was of a single mind in his goals for the Asylum, and his plans were rote and measured. As her almond curved eyes followed the foot traffic crossing their paths, she had to idly contemplate their colored garments, the family units that sought sustenance in Gotham. It seemed a waste.

Holding gently to his arm, more in reverence as much as it was in show for the mindless masses of this city, she nodded briefly to encourage him. So few of his own attendants forgot that he was still a man, at the pinnacle of their ever well-being. He was still a man of flesh and blood behind the myth. They were fools to forget it.

"I agree, Father. I miss the acrid scents of home punctuated at dusk by the night-blooming flower. I miss our own garments, not these facsimiles of what passes for fashion here in Gotham. It is a city that reeks of decay and corruption." She had been about to speak further, and halted, realizing that her own musings would add nothing to the description he had already laid in place. She had learned to hold her tongue, and not offer correction to her superiors. It was a hard lesson, but one learned.

"I have been busy. Travelling, like always. Doing the work my forebear has brought me up to further. I am running a corporation in one city. Funding heroics. Mentoring lost children. Running an underground spy ring in another. I keep busy, all in your glorious name, as always, Father. I am content, but only in furthering our glorious purpose and your own Will." A slight glean strikes in her eyes, as she speaks reverently of their purposes, their plans, and how to execute them in less words than in takes to greet a friend fondly. She could only fitfully hope he was proud of her, and her own endeavors.

[Deleted]

The thought of Arkham Aslyum gripped his heart with a clenched fist of disgust, swelling feelings of sickness deep with in him. In his eyes the sanatorium was nothing more than a sick joke that never had a punch line, the greatest indicatator of Humanity's wrongfully placed morals in that they keep the degenerates of Society behind locked doors for all to poke at, and they call it science. If anything it was a sign of Man's true sadistic nature, why else would you choose to allow the suffering of a lunatic when death could be granted so easily. If the League had men working within the Institute all the better, they're work can ensure its retirement post haste.

At the mention of Luthor his mind's eye gazed back into the recent past to the young man who swore his services to the League and had more than repayed the training that he had recieved in the Desert. Men such as him were the future, their genius granted realisation concerning the simpler truths of the World that most overlook or ignore. They accept the World for what it is and not what it is not, understanding that man must do more than change, it must evolve before its decadent ways crush it under its own weight. "Luthor will play his part as we all will in coming days." Talia too had took this to heart, the only reservation that Ra's had on the matter was her past love for the Detective. If even a shred of compassion remained for him when the time to act came all could be lost in an instant.

"Most of all I miss the quiet, the tranquility of being alone with ones thoughts. This City moans like a dying animal in the dead of night, awakening all to its pleas of suffering." He noticed that she held back from continuing her whistful thinking, he should not have initiated the discussion, their thoughts should be focused on the task at hand not of a home across the World. And though he wouldn't openly admit it he did long for a change of apparel. This was his disguise, the shroud of a Western man defined by the brand of tie on his chest or the watch bound to his wrist.

As she spoke of the series of lives that she lived in the name of the League's interests, Ra's carefully moved over to a neat row of white roses that bathed tenderly in the warm summer light, plucking one from the ground before piercing it through the button hole in his lapel. "You have done as expected, good." As close as he ever came to passing a compliment, though he would argue that he expects the best from those who serve him so by meeting his aspirations who have excelled in your work. "At first you listened, moved among the shadows of society, learning all that you could from your prey. But now you hide in plain sight. Your mask is one of pleasant gestures and charity work. I will not deny that your work has been most acceptable as of late." It was what she was raised for after all. But now she was here by his side, all of that dropped at a moments notice, at the snap of his fingers.

They had moved onto the pathway bordering the cool stretch of water which stretched across the heart of the area, a pond dotted with small vessels and swans bobbing along the still surface. Railings sat between them and the lake, a fench which Ra's wrapped his fingers around as he deeply inhaled in the afternoon air. He would glance at her but he would never stare at her, he saw every detail of her body and face yet he saw nothing. "I remember the first time I came to Gotham. Its filth blinded me even then."

[Deleted]

Her own time to Gotham was vastly different than his. Yes, the stench filled her nose with putrid scents of disease and unwashed bodies, of filth caked, or covered with manufactured perfumes. But she had also served to track the city's savor in just as many days as it took breaths before she fell to slumber. Yes, the stench was still there, but her discoveries had been much, much sweeter.

Moving with economy of grace to follow her father's actions and pluck a pristine rose to tuck into her own braided hair, she quietly demurs, accepting his praise shrouded in correction. Her head bowed in reverence as he would have accepted, her actions truncated in this peculiar Western world. When proper reverence had been given, she would speak, and never before. Another lesson hard learned, but earned in time with sweat and tears.

"Hariq has instilled me in his company for Gotham, Father. If you care to spend moments of your precious time engaging with the televisions, I shall be making numerous appearances to bolster engagement." Which she was doing. In conjunction with the Gala benefit, this Metropham endeavor of tying both cities together, as if to drag the younger, unkempt sibling to the status of the accomplished, polished firstborn. It was insanity, but an insanity honed to a perfection by a man who's visions and sights were fixed not in the now, but in some glorious point beyond the horizon. He was a madman, but a brilliant one. And when harnessed properly, madness could be illumination. She knew of this forehand, the ingenuity of insanity, of being told 'it cannot be done!' while others plied rationality and disbelief to ruin aspirations. Those unbelievers lacked the internal courage and fortitude to carry out those actions which required faith. And faith was not a tangible, concrete thing one could grasp in their hand and do as their heart and mind desired and sought to.

And in faith, she had been made malleable by her father. A mere wisp of spirit twining about a core of steel, surrounded by water. Taking the shape of what it needed to be, and then gone in the next breath. She was a tool, a weapon, a friend, a daughter. All when need to be, never where not. All at the call and whim of her father, her dedication bound not only by will and belief, but by blood.

"I find when the mechanical groans and foul aroma of Gotham distracts me from purity, that of all things to be grounding is such as this." Lips curled into what could pass for a smile between the two kin, and she leans against the fence as well, gesturing to the pond. "Which is peculiar, considering the great lack where you raised me."

Water had been scarce, and in few places in her childhood home. While the al Ghul den had been deep within caverns and mountains, away from the harsh heats and chill of the night, water had been nothing like this pool before them surrounded and inhabited by foreign objects. So to be drawn to such a tranquil, yet foreign thing to calm her mind and ease her spirit was amusing.

[Deleted]

Television, the ultimate accumulation of all of man's toils in the fields of engineering and physics, a box with moving pictures. Some how the world managed without T.V before its creation but now the vast majority of homes owned at least one of them, through which they can indulge their want to do as little as possible both physically and mentally. Such luxuries dull the mind, slow your reactions and leave you addicted to its continuous high definition paralysing effect. "The anaesthetic of the modern world." Of course he referred to the invention that she planned to appear on, which didn't worry him in the slightest. No one would recognise her, and if they did then evidently she has failed in protecting the secret of her true identity. "You do well to hide in plain sight, my Daughter. Laugh with them, drink with them, learn from them. Be what they expect you to be but never forget your true purpose." He spoke to her as if he was a child, as if this was her first operation.

In his eyes there was no difference in her now than there was when he first instructed her to climb the valley walls that surrounded their ancient lair of stone. At no more than six years of age he watched her pull herself up every over hanging fixture with out the privilege of safety equipment, dancing over the cliffs of treacherous edges and thousand foot falls. Fortunately she met expectation as she triumphed over the challenge that would kill any other child, but she wasn't just any other child, she was his. Standing by the pond, watching a nurturing father teach his son how to bait a hook as they sat with their legs dangling over the edge of a small pier, Ra's al Ghul chose to disconnect himself from the lives of the people before him. Any other man would make the opportunity to open up to his Daughter, but he understood that their relationship was unlike any other in the City of twisted concrete that surrounded them. Their dynamic was one of expectation and not compassion; duty with no care. Openly admitting this would draw the air from his throat, shaking his very faith, or at least it might have moved the man he once was, now he only understood the service they were to carry out, one which called for complete sacrifice.

After a few moments of silence he spoke. "I do not regret the life that we have lived. My only regret will if it has been for nothing. We do what we do so that no one else has to, so when I look at the faces of the people that we pass I remember every one of them. That is my sacrifice." This was not a confession for he knew that in this life only mortal penance existed. Men such as Batman will name him insane for his actions, but Ra's will care not for he is motivated by a higher form of morality. The vigilantes of the City may save a life but they will never save the World, they will never stem the flow of the water, only delay the inevitable. Every life that Ra's took, he did so with the belief that it would save one hundred lives in the long run. Unfortunately few were gifted with the foresight to see beyond the necessary evil actions he took, to see the concern which motivated him. Today will burn so that tomorrow will be born a new, a Utopia from the ashes of the Dystopia they inhabited currently.

[Deleted]

Bowing her head slightly as her gaze focused on the undulating surface of the pond, she took his brief words of accomplishment to heart. All the years of his brutal patience had not been for nothing. He had taught her to move quietly among those alert. How to hide herself in plain sight. How to move against the unmovable. And to surpass his greatest expectations with an economy of movement.

"How could I cease to forget my purpose, Father?" It was a question almost insulting as he even gave it breath. Not that she would speak it aloud, but how dare he even assume she was nothing less than the perfect tool for his will?

"I shall learn all that I can, by taking on the guise of the sheep. To immerse myself in their filth and frivolity, and glean such understandings to bolster our own pathway." She knew the tone of his words, as if years had been shaved off her age in moments as she stood beside him.

As they allowed the silence to blossom around them as a night-blooming flower welcoming the dark, Talia felt her hands grip the fence roughly. Most would not see the gesture as subtle as it was. But her father was not most men, and still had years of experience over her. She could only pray he did not see.

Harshly she responded back to him, her voice rough as she spoke. "We shall not fail, Father. With your own actions, as well as mine, failure would mean we have ceased to do our intricate plans, that we have willfully chosen to not act each and every day, in the will and the purpose that you so dedicatedly set before us. Your people, our people, are the most skilled across the planet to bring about this illumination. It is those that are unable to see, and willingly look away from such knowledge that shall fail. Your sacrifices shall never be in vain, for nothing. You have raised me to be so much more than that. To reach for nothing less than perfection, and to train, and repeat all that I am able to execute such a goal. I have not had the downfall of death to stop me, for I have met it willingly and learned with each greeting, and bettered myself wholly from it."

[Deleted]

Looking down to the railing to which he had latched onto, Ra's rubbed one of his thumbs over the silver paint work which adorned it, rubbing off the top layer as a few flakes fell to the floor. Beneath the concealed work the iron had rusted thanks to years of wear and tear, the result of a lack of management or care. The buildings which stood around the edges of the Park, blocking out the distant horizon had no doubt received a similar level of attention as the railing had. Pretty from a far but with only a scratch one would uncover a thousand promises of grime and filth. Motioning his thumb off of his two longest fingers on the same hand he knew that the putrid rust stain would take more than a quick rub to remove. Still he turned back to his Daughter and with a firm nod he finished the current line of inquiry, satisfied by her resolute and confident retort to his questioning.

"Our duty is to Humanity. If we fail, Mankind will expand and devour until they can grow no more, when they have turned on one another to ensure their own doomed survival. Then with a stomp and a whimper we will be no more, leaving a broken world in our wake, not fit for even the lowest base life form. However this simplifies our crusade, as only two logical conclusions can be achieved. We either succeed or we fail, there is no room for interpretation." From the waters edge a row of pigeons shot up and over their heads, breaking out into the tree line beyond the expanse of grass, down the same path that the two of them had previously strolled down.

Slowly reaching out, taking Talia's smaller hands in his own bony grip, Ra's ran his thumbs through the palm of her hands, feeling their tiny details with the prints of his fingers before dropping them and allowing them to drop to her sides. Love was as alien to him as the stars that danced above, he had little to no concept of its intricacies or tenants as for so long he had locked compassion away from the light of the world. Slight wrinkles had appeared in the corners of his brows and he could feel a stiffness course through his bones. It had been five months since he had last bathed in the Lazarus pits and with every passing day he felt its gifts disperse from his mind as age once again crept to tap him upon his shoulder. It was an unavoidable paradox in that the longer he went without the substance the weaker he grew both mentally and physically however there was a freedom to be found in this as his mind was allowed to clear itself from the clouded mess brought on from the invigorating process. But eventually it was an addiction that he could not run from, as Ra's' first priority was ever to the League which required a leader of strength not frailty.

Those who would assert that he made no sacrifice failed to realise that he was all but addicted to life. One day he would have to resign himself with the reality that the Lazarus would fail and he will die, but before that he required an heir to continue the fight. If only Talia was born a man. "I've taken enough of your time today, Daughter of mine. You have much to do."  

[Deleted]

Any other woman, no- any other man would be shaking with emotion, with misunderstanding after her words spoken to her own father. Not only her father, but her teacher, her killer, her enlightenment. The man embodying a way of life she had been raised in, and raised to uphold. The man that would bring the commoners to their knees in understanding of their petty, foolish ways in this modern day and age. As composed as she was able to keep herself, it was nothing. She had been raised to perfection, and when perfection was not achieved, she had learned, been put to the knife or fire, and would either come out unscathed, or face the lesson of death. Death to her was nothing to fear, only a tool that had been used to hone her to His Will.

"They are a stubborn ill, Father. Much like disease of yesteryear." And they had both seen disease. She had been aware of how such a thing had taken her own mother, and seen how dedicated friends and others had been taken by such a simple, yet complex thing. Her head bowed slightly in reverence once more as he spoke, each word etched once more on her heart, the words filed away in her honed mind for another time. When she needed to remember just what she had been born for. And what she strove to accomplish in each breath she had been allowed to have on this day.

Feeling the papery skin, she looks up. Not in astonishment, but in gratitude as he sought to reach out to her. It is a study in contrasts-his aged hand, her own younger, resilient flesh. He was many, many years her senior, yet she had not ceased to live nearly as many lifetimes in her own shorter stay on this spin of humanity. And just as quickly as he had shown such intimate affection, it is gone, her hand once more falling to her side, the link of familial adoration, or what could have been interpret as such gone in an instant.

Her head once more inclined slightly, a motion of thanks to his attentions, a bastardization as her normal motions would be taken as alien in this city. Her heart minorly constricted in her chest, it pains her to not show him the proper respect for such attention. Yet she knows it uncouth to show her displeasure in such an ignorant society in his presence.

As his words reach her understanding, she barely gives a shake of her head. "I am bathed in illumination each time we do meet, Father. Thank you, again, for reminding me of our goals, and in how I am able to further your own will and duty. It is truly a gift." Slipping a small leather case containing two atomizers from her pocket, she deftly places it within his jacket pocket. "A gift, from unworthy daughter to benevolent Father. I have learned that most children seek out fragrances to adorn their elders with. I am aware you have such pricey and genuine oils that put these things to shame. This gift is neither, but is made to look as one. A special flower distilled for you."

Smiling sweetly, she gently straightened the lapels of his jacket, fingers fluttering over his chin as such a daughter would do. Dutifully she presses a kiss to his cheek before a smile is on her lips. He has dismissed her. And so she goes, turning from him and quietly drifting among the shadows and laughter of the park. She may not be his son, but she is more than just his daughter.