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[for Stephanie] daddy issues
May. 1st, 2012 07:28 pmThe Manor is empty when Damian wakes, breathless and hungry. Gone are the trappings of the Wild West and the dream Gotham he's lived and breathed for what feels like a month, but was surely only a day. The Island is consistent in its inconsistencies. Stretching sleep-ached muscles as he walks, his first order of business becomes finding his father to ensure he survived the trip back to reality. This time of night, it's not unusual for Bruce to be on patrol, and given current events, an evening patrol strikes Damian as an excellent idea.
(He stops long enough only to feed the puppy, who he found whimpering outside his father's door.)
Tabula Rasa seems so claustrophobic in comparison to the city, palm trees seeming to encroach on every window. The effect is only magnified once he's outside, dressed in his uniform for a greater purpose than concealing his identity. It's a reminder of his true life, the one he woke from only minutes ago. (A dream, certainly, but a dream he would return to, if given the choice.) He stalks the jungle like a quiet, if sullen cat, eyes peeled for any signs of movement. Batman can hide -- and hide well -- but Damian is confident in his training.
Just as he's confident he won't be the only one of their peculiar little family (ugh, as if any of them could hold a candle to a flesh-and-blood heir) on the hunt for their patriarch. As the minutes stretch into hours, he expects he'll run into one of them before he encounters his father. In this, he's not disappointed, a familiar silhouette cutting the moonlight up ahead.
"Stephanie."
(He stops long enough only to feed the puppy, who he found whimpering outside his father's door.)
Tabula Rasa seems so claustrophobic in comparison to the city, palm trees seeming to encroach on every window. The effect is only magnified once he's outside, dressed in his uniform for a greater purpose than concealing his identity. It's a reminder of his true life, the one he woke from only minutes ago. (A dream, certainly, but a dream he would return to, if given the choice.) He stalks the jungle like a quiet, if sullen cat, eyes peeled for any signs of movement. Batman can hide -- and hide well -- but Damian is confident in his training.
Just as he's confident he won't be the only one of their peculiar little family (ugh, as if any of them could hold a candle to a flesh-and-blood heir) on the hunt for their patriarch. As the minutes stretch into hours, he expects he'll run into one of them before he encounters his father. In this, he's not disappointed, a familiar silhouette cutting the moonlight up ahead.
"Stephanie."