As the chair dissolved and he found himself slightly more mobile, Omi felt himself calming, leaving him to deal with the embarrassment and self-disgust of looking so weak as to have a panic attack from being put in a chair, of all stupid things.
But it mattered. Being tied up restricted his limbs, but it didn't lock him into a single place, a single position. It was the ability to run despite being tied that had saved him from the kidnappers all those years ago. He needed that power-- or that illusion of power-- as his one security. Never mind that with bound feet running wasn't any more an option than in the chair. It didn't trap him.
He looked around and inchwormed to the nearest wall, situating himself to be sitting upright with its support while keeping his gaze lowered the whole way.
"Sumanai," he offered quietly, deliberately opting for the word that could be taken as Thank You, Excuse Me, or I'm Sorry. All were appropriate.
It was not helpful to his position to be acting with such downcast avoidance. Look powerless, and you'll be taken as powerless, rather than as possessing a rather potent bargaining chip and being quite prepared to make threats with it. Omi couldn't help it. He felt incredibly small face to face with Batman himself, and he somehow doubted that was only because of the difference in stature. Batman had presence. He held an invisible force over the air around him, the kind of poise and terse coolness Omi had so often admired in Aya, only 10,000 times stronger. While Omi hadn't wanted to play hardball with Robin, he was downright averse to it with Batman. Nothing good would come of going up against him.
Besides, Batman wasn't evil. If it were the target that had him tied up in a corner wanting information, it would be a different story altogether, no matter how commanding the aura. Batman was a hero, a vigilante for justice that stopped the ones the law couldn't catch, and Omi respected him. Desperately wished not to be under his interrogation right now, but respected him.
So his voice stayed quiet, and his head stayed bowed. He couldn't betray Kritiker, but to the extent that line wasn't crossed, he entertained no ideas of causing difficulty.
He debated what-- if anything-- to say back to Batman's commentary about teenaged assassins. Anything that acknowledged himself as one was incriminating evidence. That was bad. Thus, a pause ensued before he replied.
"Certainly," he voiced, as that did not implicate so much as communicate simple understanding. And, before anything further, Omi wanted to establish one fact of critical importance. He lifted his gaze to Batman's eyes for the first time, though the expression held no challenge.
no subject
But it mattered. Being tied up restricted his limbs, but it didn't lock him into a single place, a single position. It was the ability to run despite being tied that had saved him from the kidnappers all those years ago. He needed that power-- or that illusion of power-- as his one security. Never mind that with bound feet running wasn't any more an option than in the chair. It didn't trap him.
He looked around and inchwormed to the nearest wall, situating himself to be sitting upright with its support while keeping his gaze lowered the whole way.
"Sumanai," he offered quietly, deliberately opting for the word that could be taken as Thank You, Excuse Me, or I'm Sorry. All were appropriate.
It was not helpful to his position to be acting with such downcast avoidance. Look powerless, and you'll be taken as powerless, rather than as possessing a rather potent bargaining chip and being quite prepared to make threats with it. Omi couldn't help it. He felt incredibly small face to face with Batman himself, and he somehow doubted that was only because of the difference in stature. Batman had presence. He held an invisible force over the air around him, the kind of poise and terse coolness Omi had so often admired in Aya, only 10,000 times stronger. While Omi hadn't wanted to play hardball with Robin, he was downright averse to it with Batman. Nothing good would come of going up against him.
Besides, Batman wasn't evil. If it were the target that had him tied up in a corner wanting information, it would be a different story altogether, no matter how commanding the aura. Batman was a hero, a vigilante for justice that stopped the ones the law couldn't catch, and Omi respected him. Desperately wished not to be under his interrogation right now, but respected him.
So his voice stayed quiet, and his head stayed bowed. He couldn't betray Kritiker, but to the extent that line wasn't crossed, he entertained no ideas of causing difficulty.
He debated what-- if anything-- to say back to Batman's commentary about teenaged assassins. Anything that acknowledged himself as one was incriminating evidence. That was bad. Thus, a pause ensued before he replied.
"Certainly," he voiced, as that did not implicate so much as communicate simple understanding. And, before anything further, Omi wanted to establish one fact of critical importance. He lifted his gaze to Batman's eyes for the first time, though the expression held no challenge.
"I have the right to remain silent... correct?"