Director's Origins

⚔︎Wreck Buried Deep In The Sand⚔︎

Flipping up the latches to the large double door, pushing it open and switching on the lights. Looking from left to right at the damage that was done. Blinking slowly he took it all in around him. Weights slammed into equipment, a window shattered with a pole sticking out through it, a heavy bag beaten so hard it was torn at the seams, clearly, it had seen better days.

Pushing out a long sigh Damian pinched his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose. Shaking his head a little before dropping his hand again and clapping them.
Right after he started to get to work. Kneeling down to pick up the heavy bag and lean it on the wall to throw out later.

Crossing over to the window, glass crunching under his combat boots. A long-sleeved hand reached up and carefully removed the pole, particles of glass falling as he did so. Taking it out Damian connected the weights to it and set it back up on the barbell bench. After that, he went to the closet and got out a shop-vac and swept up the glass off the floor.

He went over to the middle of the room and placed his hands to his hips. Looking all around and now seeing everything wasn't as large of a disaster anymore. Far from perfect and there was still a shattered window that he couldn't really do anything about. But it was good enough, so he brushed off his hands and grabbed the heavy bag.

Lifting it to his shoulder he headed out the back door of the base and used his ID to unlock the door. Going to the dumpsters he tossed the bag right in and shut the top. Rolling his shoulder as he turned back inside.

Damian stepped out of the gym and training room, back out to the hallway. There had to be more damage somewhere, that was Conner's thing. When angry enough he left a trail, so it became easy for Damian to find him. It was the middle of the night now and everyone seemed to be asleep and Damian should be as well.

He still had to get back up in only a few hours for training. Or at least it was the rule, but it wasn't like he ever followed them. Damian couldn't stand Jones or even Baker at times, so it wasn't anything new that he went behind their backs and did the opposite of what they said.

Heading down the hallway of the bedrooms, he went over to the one with 'McAlister' on the door in bronze. Usually, he would just barge right in, no matter what. This time, however, was different. He was probably asleep, and probably afraid to see Damian right then.
He yelled at the kid but felt like he had to. Conner was acting out and needed to be set straight, otherwise who knows what would happen.

If Jones were to catch him in the act, no one alive would be able to tell what the hell she'd do to him. The whole 'killing machine' act made Damian sick feeling and angry. Damian was much different however, he wasn't hot-headed and fought with his head. Keeping his composures, yet Jones made even him think dark thoughts.

Setting all of that aside now, Damian had to at least try. To get the little short fuse to actually listen and reason with him.
That felt like an impossible motive, regardless he still had to try for the sake of their friendship.

More importantly for the sake of Conner's safety and well being. That was the number one priority. Damian would take on Jones himself before she ever had the chance to touch a single curl on his head. Even though Conner's the one with the temper, Damian was the better-skilled fighter. That, and it was just what friends do, and it was Conner who reminded Damian of that.

Raising a hand he knocked firmly on the door and waited. After waiting for about forty-five seconds he shook his head and opened up the door. Flipping the light switch to find Conner fast asleep and sprawled all across the foot of the bed. Looking around his room was also a complete mess just like the gym. Damian shook his head with a sigh and slightly chuckled.