Prometheus - A DCAU Fanfic.

7

11:21 - Just outside of Bludhaven.

 A few miles out of Bludhaven's city limits, sat a small Mom-and-Pop, truck-stop diner, opposite an old petrol station. It was a typical small restaurant, checkerboard floors, polished wooden tables in front of red booth seats, and a large neon sign attached to pole, advertising the establishment to passing drivers. It reading 'Jelly's' in large lettering.

The eatery was mostly deserted. With four staff members catering to two truckers, a Mother with two teenager children, and a few hungover women fresh off of a bachelorette party, sitting in the front of the restaurant, but they weren't the only people enjoying their breakfast.

In a booth, the one located closest to the emergency door, and simultaneously the furthest from the front doors and windows, two men, both dressed in dark hoodies, baseball caps, and sunglasses sat. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Since they sat down, the two had only said a few words, giving their orders to the blond teenage waitress who'd come up to their table, in a hushed tone, before immediately turning away from the girl.

One of the two went to lift his fork, but recoiled in pain, before he could grab it.

"Still having trouble with your arm?" - Damian across from him asked, taking a bite of his mushroom and pepper omelette.

Switching his utensils into the hand not in a sling, the injured merc cut the fried egg of his full English breakfast. - "Yeah it's surprising. Getting shot in the shoulder hurts. Who would've guessed D?" - He joked, before switching his utensils again, and biting into the slice of fried egg on his fork.

"It hurts? I didn't expect that, I mean it's not like you were whining like a cry-baby, when I was trying to patch you up a few nights back." - Damian shot back.

"You know you were a lot less sarcastic when we first met?"

"What can I say? Spending every waking moment by your side, has left me mentally scarred."

Noah snickered. - "Since we're talking about injuries, I got to say you're not looking too good either." - He admitted, going for the pepper shaker with his good hand. - "You're covered in bruises and cuts as well."

"Yeah, I'm thinking about upgrading my armour." - He reached for the dark rucksack that contained his small collection of personal items he had to manage to keep with him over , and pulled out a A3 leather-bound notebook, complete with engraved initials and a matching mechanical pencil. He'd had gotten it for his 16th birthday.

He flipped to a specific page, passing over multiple very detailed sketches of animals and landscapes, some having been drawn years ago, and some just last week.

"I've come up with a few upgrades I want to incorporate into the next version of my armour." - He pointed at a new gauntlet design. - "I'm thinking about making the side-blades detachable and able to act as a mini-projectile." - He moved his finger over to the underlying Kevlar armour. - "I'm thinking about changing this from a bi-titanium weave to a tri-titanium weave."

He flipped to the next page, where he had a barebones design for a new form of headgear.

"A helmet?" - Noah commented. - "Finally, you've come to the realisation that a piece of cloth won't protect you from guns and knives!"

"Well I've been using that cloth mask for three years, and I'd say it's kept me safe ."

"Really? What about that time, Mara and her gang of bloodthirsty assassins hunted us down in Adana in Turkey, and she almost cut you face in two?"