[a brand new story!]
Not two weeks since Damian's arrival, and already Tabula Rasa has exhausted its nonexistent charm. Between public records and the local newspaper, he's pieced together a working history of the place, and come away dissatisfied. While the dalliance with dull detective work would have surely pleased Grayson, the man wasn't here -- at least, not anymore. The Disappearance Registry marked one of Damian's more interesting finds, but the presentation lacked something to be desired. The Times, at least, had an eclectic style to make up for its lack of digital delivery. Old headlines caught Damian's attention and imagination for a few hours. Murders. Rampages. Dinosaurs escaping. A space station falling out of the sky. An underwater city.
This island's not as boring as everyone makes it out to be...
But it's not Gotham, either.
The names in the paper were largely unfamiliar ones. The Red Hood didn't make a single appearance and the other known criminals who count themselves free citizens have likewise kept their noses clean over the years. Under other circumstances, Damian might suspect someone was paying off the press, but there's no evidence to support that hypothesis. The only other explanation -- that they've somehow managed to change their acts -- is hard to reconcile given what he knows of them. This holds truer for no one save Jason Todd.
So Damian does surveillance. He keeps up his training, at night and in secret. And when Todd proves too elusive (or boring) a quarry to watch, Damian resorts to making his own entertainment. Sometimes this means gracing Stephanie with his presence. This afternoon, it means a visit to the scrapyard to see if there isn't anything he might tinker with or improve. If idle hands are the devil's tools, Damian is the reason such a saying exists.
The robot the size of a small horse awaiting him at the entrance admittedly catches him by surprise. Damian stops cold in his tracks, fascinated more so than frightened. That it was built here is obvious, but there's a sophistication to the device he would have thought impossible -- a sophistication that keeps him from pressing onwards in civilian clothes. He stares at it for a moment, his face as expressionless as any machine but for the slight tilt of his head that speaks to his curiosity. The moment's short-lived. Disdain registers across his youthful features, followed closely by annoyance when he notes the robot steps back when he takes a step forward.
"Tt."
Timed for Tuesday afternoon. Damian is OUTSIDE the Scrapyard. The robot he has encountered is named Terrible. As he has never spoken to Tony Stark, he will not be able to enter. CLOSED TO NEW THREADS.
This island's not as boring as everyone makes it out to be...
But it's not Gotham, either.
The names in the paper were largely unfamiliar ones. The Red Hood didn't make a single appearance and the other known criminals who count themselves free citizens have likewise kept their noses clean over the years. Under other circumstances, Damian might suspect someone was paying off the press, but there's no evidence to support that hypothesis. The only other explanation -- that they've somehow managed to change their acts -- is hard to reconcile given what he knows of them. This holds truer for no one save Jason Todd.
So Damian does surveillance. He keeps up his training, at night and in secret. And when Todd proves too elusive (or boring) a quarry to watch, Damian resorts to making his own entertainment. Sometimes this means gracing Stephanie with his presence. This afternoon, it means a visit to the scrapyard to see if there isn't anything he might tinker with or improve. If idle hands are the devil's tools, Damian is the reason such a saying exists.
The robot the size of a small horse awaiting him at the entrance admittedly catches him by surprise. Damian stops cold in his tracks, fascinated more so than frightened. That it was built here is obvious, but there's a sophistication to the device he would have thought impossible -- a sophistication that keeps him from pressing onwards in civilian clothes. He stares at it for a moment, his face as expressionless as any machine but for the slight tilt of his head that speaks to his curiosity. The moment's short-lived. Disdain registers across his youthful features, followed closely by annoyance when he notes the robot steps back when he takes a step forward.
"Tt."
Timed for Tuesday afternoon. Damian is OUTSIDE the Scrapyard. The robot he has encountered is named Terrible. As he has never spoken to Tony Stark, he will not be able to enter. CLOSED TO NEW THREADS.