[for Stephanie] bats and birds

Joker's drugs should have worn off hours ago.

It's an uncomfortable realization, to say the least, to know that Jason Todd, of all people, was telling the truth with all his nonsense about pocket dimensions. Even so, there's little denying that the dark world around Damian feels real, from the deep, lush smell of the surrounding jungle to the cool night air. Real or not, though, none of this makes much sense. But then, life in Gotham rarely does, either, does it? His rogues' gallery is comprised of circus freaks and costumed lunatics with too much time on their hands. Interdimensional travel to an island with no immediate escape is surely the next threat to master.

"Tt."

Getting away from the headcase had proven interesting, but Damian's been on his own since before sunset, exploring unfamiliar territory to the best of his ability -- an ability somewhat hindered by a persistent, lingering panic he's trying to ignore. He's been all over the world, but never before beyond it, and with this thoughts still in Gotham -- still with Grayson and the Joker and the recent chaos from which he is only hours removed -- he can't be blamed for his unease. The bizarre circumstances of his arrival aside, he's yet to come across anything that improves upon his first impression of this Tabula Rasa.

The large, concrete building sticking out through the trees is a sight far more welcome than the chicken coop he's just vacated, though, and he decides, immediately, to make this slight nod to civilization his next destination. Only in locating the entrance, however, does he spot a glimpse of familiar blonde hair up on the rooftop.

She's not Grayson or Pennyworth, but Stephanie Brown is at least better company than the Red Hood. It's child's play, joining her on the ledge. Damian's movements are quiet as he treads behind her, stopping only once he's a few feet away.

"You."

[for Grace] the amazing adventures of the clothes box

He's stashed the domino, the utility belt, the tunic, the gloves, the boots, the cape-- Anything and everything that could immediately connect him to Robin. On its own, the charcoal gray survival suit could pass for something like a wetsuit. It's not the most ideal of charades, but though Damian's only been on this island for under twenty-four hours, observation alone suggests the cape and cowl set aren't especially needed here, even if Batgirl and Todd hadn't confirmed as much in different ways. This isn't Gotham.

New clothing is a priority.

The box in the basement of the building known simply as the compound, however, has not been particularly forthcoming. He's been digging through its contents for at least ten minutes, and his bounty so far includes a number of oversized cotton t-shirts in an array of neon of colors he wouldn't dare wear and a pair of men's briefs bearing Superman's shield.

"Tt. This is idiotic."