[ dextera nods along with damian's suggestion for calcium, even if he's never raised a chicken in his life and never would have guessed that before now, because it sounds like it makes sense.
he goes through them one by one, spelling out the names. only one of them was his decision, and it will rapidly become clear which one he dubbed for himself. the chickens don't have any identifying factors outside someone knowing their names, so this will be an exciting new experience for damian with the chickens he has already beheld. ]
Waffles. Pancakes. Muffins. Custard. [ and then, he gestures to himself before motioning to the chicken, because this one is his. ] Leliel.
[It’s fine. Damian can quickly pick up on maybe one mannerism that will help him distinguish between the lot of them. If he can’t, that’s okay, too, even if he will be hard pressed to be polite to the birds.
He doesn’t seem to think they are bad names. Or ridiculous ones. He nods in acknowledgement of them. Just don’t talk about them when hungry. He looks at Dextera, then at the last chicken. For a moment, he’s quiet.] Leliel?
[ dextera pauses, surprised—maybe he shouldn't be, with how adept damian has shown himself to be, but no one else has picked up on the angelic name he chose for his chicken.
he nods. ]
Night. [ because she's a black chicken... and it makes him feel much less bad about the name of his he doesn't like to tell people. ]
[All Damian does is nod, understanding. It doesn’t seem weird either. Hell, he named Pennyworth after his butler, and his cow is... Batcow. Listen. He picked Titus? It’s fine. One of these would be Batman if he had anything to do with it.
Carefully, he squats down and rests his arms on his thighs. He waits for the chickens to come to him, and if they do, he strokes them gently but confidently. If any want to roost on his lap a minute, he allows them as much.] I like them. They’re beautiful birds, if sometimes strange.
If you need help, you can ask Clark Kent. He’s a farmer. I asked him to help bring the hutch.
[ it would be pretty sweet to have a chicken named batman ]
...
[ the chickens come to damian once they sense that he’s safe, interested in his presence and allowing themselves to be touched once they’re sure of where he stands relevant to the flock. dextera watches this, quiet for a moment, and nods when damian volunteers his friend’s help. ]
Thank you. [ a beat. ] First time—seeing animals. This town.
[ he’s not at fluent as he wants to be, not yet, but the point gets across, right? he doesn’t know how to care for anything. ]
[Though he doesn't say you're welcome, he does not again in acceptance of the thanks. The chickens are a few more strokes, and then he stands back up to let them continue on with their daily very chicken-y things.
His eyes watch Dextera's hands and fingers, and then he glances at Ace, at the chickens.] Someone told me that there weren't any animals here when people came, not counting the ones in the forest or the ones people brought with them.
Perhaps more will show up. Other farm animals, hopefully. Cows, goats, pigs. [The thought of pigs kinda makes Damian's face pinch. But not everyone is like him.] As a vegetarian, I don't approve of eating them; however, they are a source of food for others.
But the cows and goats would be good for milk and cheese. [Anyway. The point: no animals.] There's someone with a golden eagle. Ace belongs to my father, Bruce. My cat was here. Pennyworth. He comes and goes as he pleases, but you may see him. He is a tuxedo cat.
dextera quite literally wouldn't survive without meat, since his powers require that he be aware of life and creation at all times, and he sustains himself with flesh and blood, but he would gladly have switched over long ago if he thought he could get away with it. he doesn't like hurting the animals, even the mutant ones in the forest.
an eagle, a dog, a cat... the chickens, as well, and an assortment of other creatures that have made or will need to make a home for themselves, alongside the people of the town. dextera hopes that the distortion of the native creatures isn't a condition, waiting to prey on the new arrivals. ]
...
[ he shakes his head, and then pauses, remembering just one. ]
[Wow. The idea of never seeing an animal seems pretty awful to Damian now. Growing up, he had no time for beasts, and yet, he's currently the biggest advocate of protecting them and treating them kindly. Maybe it was Goliath. Titus before that. He can't imagine having not seen any dog, or cat, or horse.] I see.
Birds are intelligent creatures, even simple songbirds. [He is Robin, after all.] If you like birds, you should find the person with the eagle.
[ dextera doesn't think anything at all about trailing after a kid who must be half his age, since damian conducts himself with such a confidence (and maturity) that dextera doesn't have in any capacity. he's happy to just follow along, especially when his thoughts are starting to stray toward his Tragic Past™. ]
...?
[ but this one might require his attention, so he nods, blinking himself back into awareness as he goes to the hutch. notably, leliel falls into line behind him, because she is a good lady who loves him. ]
At the hutch, Damian opens the door to the outer portion so he can point inside at the ground.] Chickens like to scratch and dig, so we'll need to put some covering on the ground. It helps soak up excrement, too. It's ventilated, so it should be fine, as long as you don't cover it with anything.
If you have any jars or cans, or we can find some, I can build you a feeder for water and food. You should hang them up if you can. They'll get it dirt with all their kicking. [He allows Leliel to waltz inside for inspection, leaving the door open. The ramp should be fun to go up and down, so he opens the roost door to let her in if she wants that, too.] We can put some more covering inside.
There's two beams. Chickens like to be off the ground at night when they roost. This is the laying box. [Coming out of the hutch, he goes to the back and lifts the lid to the box there.] We can make a nest, and it should be kept clean, or they won't use it. If you put an egg here, they'll learn to come lay.
[ this is all so exciting. dextera had no idea so much was involved, in taking care of chickens, but he's glad to do it all—he knows joshua will help, and mutsunokami has also volunteered his services if dextera needs anything. worse comes to worst, he thinks mutsu would make a good herder, since he doesn't seem too bothered by the chickens that don't like him. ]
Thank you.
[ he's not looking at damian when he says this, but the gesture is there all the same. leliel takes her initiative here, hopping and fluttering wherever she pleases. it is fun!! she loves this new building, and she expects that dextera is going to stay out here with her. she is going to be disappointed. ]
[The question isn't one Damian expects someone to ask. Not many people care about the feelings of animals, especially not ones that aren't cats or dogs. His eyes shift to Leliel, watching her inspect the hutch.]
No one knows. Not really. Sometimes, hens will fuss a little when laying. I doubt it hurts very much. [He glances back to Dextera.] You should ask them.
[ damian has a point. he could just ask, but it feels strangely personal? like asking a woman about giving birth, or something equally intimate. he might try anyway, but he doesn't want to offend leliel's delicate sensibilities. ]
Later. [ his brow furrows slightly, as he looks at his pet. ] Sensitive.
[Sensitive? Damian slowly turns his attention again to Leliel. He guesses hearing them talk would add a whole new level of depth to them. Hens. Hm. He had told Dextera they were pretty empathetic.] I suppose.
[He doesn't exactly know how Leliel is other than what he can see right now.] Maybe she'll appreciate that you even bothered to ask her at all. If you like her eggs, she's probably just happy that she's able to make you happy.
[Is that how mothers were supposed to be? Damian doesn't know... But his father, he thinks his father would be that way at least.]
[ does leliel like him that much? dextera certainly hopes so—he’s done what he can to keep her happy and healthy, and if laying eggs is going to continue to do that, he’s more than willing to facilitate that for her. he just wants to keep something alive. ]
That’s love.
[ with a little, almost self-deprecating smile, like he knows it’s silly to say such a thing about the feelings of a hen. who knows if chickens are even capable of love? ]
[Oh. Damian doesn't exactly know much about love. Or perhaps, he does know a good deal more about love now, yet chooses not to think about it because it's embarrassing for him, a boy who can't get it right.
He knows he loves his father.
Saying it out loud to anyone but his father, however, is something he'd love to avoid at all costs. But if anything, Damian believes wholeheartedly in the unconditional love of animals. They've never judged him. They never betray him. They never disown him.]
If you can talk to her, you can tell her.
[That's about all he can say on it, and even now, he's rubbing the back of his neck.]
[ ...damian seems like a sweet kid. serious, perhaps, to a fault—but anyone who likes animals to the degree that he does can't be all bad. there's something in the human consciousness that makes sure dextera is perfectly aware that empathy toward animals is the sign of a good person. ]
Thank you, D. [ he gestures to the hutch, after a pause, a gentle shift of topic to let damian know that dextera won't be pushing this embarrassing subject.
love! who even knows about it? more importantly, there are some other things they can still do now to make this house as comfortable as possible for the chickens. the nest, the feeders—it's all very exciting, and as long as damian feels like doing it, dextera is happy to lend a hand. ]
Time?
[ the next important question, since he's not sure if damian has... other plans, today. ]
[After a long pause, he says:] Damian. [Really, he shouldn't clarify anything. Really, he should just come up with another moniker. This place was completely new, and no one here knew him except the three adults that lead the same lifestyle.
He could have come up with a whole different person. Damian Wayne wouldn't have to exist. He could start over.
But Damian Wayne is who he is, and he can't forsake that. Robin is a position, a mantle he respects more than anything, but it isn't him. It's something that can be put on and taken off. Damian is who he can't run from.] My name. It's Damian. [Spoken firmly, but with a hint of... caution, as if he thinks Dextera is going to know him somehow, judge him.
[ dextera nods, and with that information—the chickens around them, too, everything in this moment—he offers damian a particular name in sign. the D of his name is a necessity, of course, but then he lightly taps his fingers together next to his mouth, like mimicking the tweeting of a bird. italian sign language!!
it seems right, he thinks. he can't explain why—but what an honor it is, from dextera, who loves birds. ]
[Dextera won't necessarily understand why a bit of surprise softens his face at the naming. D. Bird. Damian. Being Robin does mean quite a lot to him. It's fitting, without Dextera knowing.
Or maybe Dextera knows better than anyone.
Gently, he nods, politely accepting the privilege of being Named. Slowly, faintly, the hint of a smile curls the corners of his lips up. It's more of a smirk, but whatever, tak it or leave it. It's not something he does often in earnest.] Damian.
[He folds the D into his fingers, then pinches them by his lips like the beak of a bird. Tweet, tweet.]
[ dextera will take a smirk, since damian could have just as easily given him nothing, or even have denied the name. this is something exciting to him, being able to put care in the way people are called—they have names of their own, of course, but this goes even beyond that. how special, how new.
tweet tweet! dextera is happy that damian seems happy, and with that much established and the moment shared, he turns his head back toward the house. ]
Supplies. [ he says. if damian has time... ] Feeders.
[Damian follows Dextera's gaze to the house, and then he nods.] It'd take a sharp blade and unreasonable amount of time to make shavings from wood. You're better off with hay or straw, if possible.
But if we can't find any, we'll just dig up the grass and pack down the dirt. You can use old clothing for the egg box. [Feeders.] Do you have any aluminum cans? [He's not sure... when or where Dextera is from, so he signs out "aluminum" just in case.] Or--better still: pipe? A bucket?
You wouldn't have to hang them then. We could place them up higher.
[ believe it or not, despite these clothes, dextera is from... the 21st century. all of this is rather rustic to him, actually, so he's completely unfamiliar with most of the skills that this town practically begs them to have.
aluminum, needless to say, is perfectly familiar to him, so he nods along with damian's queries. there's hay around the town, he knows, if he can borrow some from all the people who have to feed their horses—it has color, too, which is a lucky thing even if it's not strictly necessary for thing that the chickens are just going to be scratching along.
so he guides damian into the house, extremely trusting, and pulls down some empty cans that probably once contained some unfortunate food. there are no pipes around, or buckets going unused, but cans? they got plenty. ]
The cans should be just fine, more so because Damian Wayne is going to be the one getting a hold of them. He follows Dextera into the house, but tells Ace to stay at the door.
While Dextera gets the cans, he glances clinically around the place out of habit, and then he inspects the cans when they're retrieved. After a moment or two, he nods.] These are fine. [He tucks two under his arm, then holds a third in that hand. With the other, he pulls something out of the vice of the cloth belt just inside the layered robe.
It's black and shaped like the silhouette of a bat, and upon closer inspection, it resembles something like a shuriken. Apparently, it's decently sharp; when Damian uses it to dice the side of the can, it cuts through as if the can is butter.
He twists, creating a wide hole, then turns the can so he can use the flat side of the weapon to flatten the edges on the inside. After, he inspects the can again.] This'll work until I can make a box feeder with wood.
[ that is, frankly... an incredible talent, and dextera has to wonder where damian got something so sharp. he seems like a capable enough kid, but such a thing is beyond dangerous—but then, dextera has learned not to judge a book by its cover. the last person he judged as a kid turned out to be a minor deity, so maybe it's really not up to him to make impressions of people's skills. ]
...
[ he holds out his hand for the can, hopefully, so that he can inspect it for himself even if he has no idea what he's looking for. he just likes to learn! ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
he goes through them one by one, spelling out the names. only one of them was his decision, and it will rapidly become clear which one he dubbed for himself. the chickens don't have any identifying factors outside someone knowing their names, so this will be an exciting new experience for damian with the chickens he has already beheld. ]
Waffles. Pancakes. Muffins. Custard. [ and then, he gestures to himself before motioning to the chicken, because this one is his. ] Leliel.
no subject
He doesn’t seem to think they are bad names. Or ridiculous ones. He nods in acknowledgement of them. Just don’t talk about them when hungry. He looks at Dextera, then at the last chicken. For a moment, he’s quiet.] Leliel?
Like the angel?
[Just not... the Evangelion one...]
no subject
he nods. ]
Night. [ because she's a black chicken... and it makes him feel much less bad about the name of his he doesn't like to tell people. ]
no subject
Carefully, he squats down and rests his arms on his thighs. He waits for the chickens to come to him, and if they do, he strokes them gently but confidently. If any want to roost on his lap a minute, he allows them as much.] I like them. They’re beautiful birds, if sometimes strange.
If you need help, you can ask Clark Kent. He’s a farmer. I asked him to help bring the hutch.
no subject
...
[ the chickens come to damian once they sense that he’s safe, interested in his presence and allowing themselves to be touched once they’re sure of where he stands relevant to the flock. dextera watches this, quiet for a moment, and nods when damian volunteers his friend’s help. ]
Thank you. [ a beat. ] First time—seeing animals. This town.
[ he’s not at fluent as he wants to be, not yet, but the point gets across, right? he doesn’t know how to care for anything. ]
no subject
His eyes watch Dextera's hands and fingers, and then he glances at Ace, at the chickens.] Someone told me that there weren't any animals here when people came, not counting the ones in the forest or the ones people brought with them.
Perhaps more will show up. Other farm animals, hopefully. Cows, goats, pigs. [The thought of pigs kinda makes Damian's face pinch. But not everyone is like him.] As a vegetarian, I don't approve of eating them; however, they are a source of food for others.
But the cows and goats would be good for milk and cheese. [Anyway. The point: no animals.] There's someone with a golden eagle. Ace belongs to my father, Bruce. My cat was here. Pennyworth. He comes and goes as he pleases, but you may see him. He is a tuxedo cat.
Have you never seen any animals at all?
no subject
dextera quite literally wouldn't survive without meat, since his powers require that he be aware of life and creation at all times, and he sustains himself with flesh and blood, but he would gladly have switched over long ago if he thought he could get away with it. he doesn't like hurting the animals, even the mutant ones in the forest.
an eagle, a dog, a cat... the chickens, as well, and an assortment of other creatures that have made or will need to make a home for themselves, alongside the people of the town. dextera hopes that the distortion of the native creatures isn't a condition, waiting to prey on the new arrivals. ]
...
[ he shakes his head, and then pauses, remembering just one. ]
A bird, once. I like them.
no subject
Birds are intelligent creatures, even simple songbirds. [He is Robin, after all.] If you like birds, you should find the person with the eagle.
[He moves toward the hutch.] Come on.
I'll show you how to fix the hutch for them.
no subject
...?
[ but this one might require his attention, so he nods, blinking himself back into awareness as he goes to the hutch. notably, leliel falls into line behind him, because she is a good lady who loves him. ]
no subject
At the hutch, Damian opens the door to the outer portion so he can point inside at the ground.] Chickens like to scratch and dig, so we'll need to put some covering on the ground. It helps soak up excrement, too. It's ventilated, so it should be fine, as long as you don't cover it with anything.
If you have any jars or cans, or we can find some, I can build you a feeder for water and food. You should hang them up if you can. They'll get it dirt with all their kicking. [He allows Leliel to waltz inside for inspection, leaving the door open. The ramp should be fun to go up and down, so he opens the roost door to let her in if she wants that, too.] We can put some more covering inside.
There's two beams. Chickens like to be off the ground at night when they roost. This is the laying box. [Coming out of the hutch, he goes to the back and lifts the lid to the box there.] We can make a nest, and it should be kept clean, or they won't use it. If you put an egg here, they'll learn to come lay.
Then you can just lift the door to harvest them.
no subject
Thank you.
[ he's not looking at damian when he says this, but the gesture is there all the same. leliel takes her initiative here, hopping and fluttering wherever she pleases. it is fun!! she loves this new building, and she expects that dextera is going to stay out here with her. she is going to be disappointed. ]
Is it uncomfortable? Laying?
no subject
No one knows. Not really. Sometimes, hens will fuss a little when laying. I doubt it hurts very much. [He glances back to Dextera.] You should ask them.
You still have the potion, right?
no subject
[ damian has a point. he could just ask, but it feels strangely personal? like asking a woman about giving birth, or something equally intimate. he might try anyway, but he doesn't want to offend leliel's delicate sensibilities. ]
Later. [ his brow furrows slightly, as he looks at his pet. ] Sensitive.
no subject
[He doesn't exactly know how Leliel is other than what he can see right now.] Maybe she'll appreciate that you even bothered to ask her at all. If you like her eggs, she's probably just happy that she's able to make you happy.
[Is that how mothers were supposed to be? Damian doesn't know... But his father, he thinks his father would be that way at least.]
So it wouldn't matter if it was uncomfortable.
no subject
[ does leliel like him that much? dextera certainly hopes so—he’s done what he can to keep her happy and healthy, and if laying eggs is going to continue to do that, he’s more than willing to facilitate that for her. he just wants to keep something alive. ]
That’s love.
[ with a little, almost self-deprecating smile, like he knows it’s silly to say such a thing about the feelings of a hen. who knows if chickens are even capable of love? ]
no subject
He knows he loves his father.
Saying it out loud to anyone but his father, however, is something he'd love to avoid at all costs. But if anything, Damian believes wholeheartedly in the unconditional love of animals. They've never judged him. They never betray him. They never disown him.]
If you can talk to her, you can tell her.
[That's about all he can say on it, and even now, he's rubbing the back of his neck.]
no subject
Thank you, D. [ he gestures to the hutch, after a pause, a gentle shift of topic to let damian know that dextera won't be pushing this embarrassing subject.
love! who even knows about it? more importantly, there are some other things they can still do now to make this house as comfortable as possible for the chickens. the nest, the feeders—it's all very exciting, and as long as damian feels like doing it, dextera is happy to lend a hand. ]
Time?
[ the next important question, since he's not sure if damian has... other plans, today. ]
no subject
He could have come up with a whole different person. Damian Wayne wouldn't have to exist. He could start over.
But Damian Wayne is who he is, and he can't forsake that. Robin is a position, a mantle he respects more than anything, but it isn't him. It's something that can be put on and taken off. Damian is who he can't run from.] My name. It's Damian. [Spoken firmly, but with a hint of... caution, as if he thinks Dextera is going to know him somehow, judge him.
Ah yes, Bruce Wayne's monstrous child, Damian.]
I have time.
no subject
it seems right, he thinks. he can't explain why—but what an honor it is, from dextera, who loves birds. ]
...?
[ will damian accept such a name? ]
no subject
Or maybe Dextera knows better than anyone.
Gently, he nods, politely accepting the privilege of being Named. Slowly, faintly, the hint of a smile curls the corners of his lips up. It's more of a smirk, but whatever, tak it or leave it. It's not something he does often in earnest.] Damian.
[He folds the D into his fingers, then pinches them by his lips like the beak of a bird. Tweet, tweet.]
no subject
tweet tweet! dextera is happy that damian seems happy, and with that much established and the moment shared, he turns his head back toward the house. ]
Supplies. [ he says. if damian has time... ] Feeders.
no subject
But if we can't find any, we'll just dig up the grass and pack down the dirt. You can use old clothing for the egg box. [Feeders.] Do you have any aluminum cans? [He's not sure... when or where Dextera is from, so he signs out "aluminum" just in case.] Or--better still: pipe? A bucket?
You wouldn't have to hang them then. We could place them up higher.
no subject
aluminum, needless to say, is perfectly familiar to him, so he nods along with damian's queries. there's hay around the town, he knows, if he can borrow some from all the people who have to feed their horses—it has color, too, which is a lucky thing even if it's not strictly necessary for thing that the chickens are just going to be scratching along.
so he guides damian into the house, extremely trusting, and pulls down some empty cans that probably once contained some unfortunate food. there are no pipes around, or buckets going unused, but cans? they got plenty. ]
...?
no subject
The cans should be just fine, more so because Damian Wayne is going to be the one getting a hold of them. He follows Dextera into the house, but tells Ace to stay at the door.
While Dextera gets the cans, he glances clinically around the place out of habit, and then he inspects the cans when they're retrieved. After a moment or two, he nods.] These are fine. [He tucks two under his arm, then holds a third in that hand. With the other, he pulls something out of the vice of the cloth belt just inside the layered robe.
It's black and shaped like the silhouette of a bat, and upon closer inspection, it resembles something like a shuriken. Apparently, it's decently sharp; when Damian uses it to dice the side of the can, it cuts through as if the can is butter.
He twists, creating a wide hole, then turns the can so he can use the flat side of the weapon to flatten the edges on the inside. After, he inspects the can again.] This'll work until I can make a box feeder with wood.
no subject
...
[ he holds out his hand for the can, hopefully, so that he can inspect it for himself even if he has no idea what he's looking for. he just likes to learn! ]
(no subject)