say that you're grateful for the time alone, two years away and i don't miss home;

[xuffasch]

WHO: xuffasch & YOU;
WHERE: Various places throughout the city;
WHEN: All day Friday;
WARNINGS: n/a
SUMMARY: A day in the life of Damian Wayne, with interruptions from YOU.
FORMAT: Reply as you like and I will follow; specify time, too!



↬ MID-MORNING;

If you were to ask Damian about things he never did, one of the first he’d list would be sulking. However, Damian is a terrible liar, because sulking is exactly what he’d been doing for the past few days, though he would never admit it. Watching events unfolding and having no control over them is enough to chafe his already irritable nature, but the fact that Grayson isn’t around is what makes it all the worse. Robin is a formidable force, but without Batman he can be a purposeless one.

Which is why he found himself where he was now, lying on his back on the rooftop of the apartment building he and Grayson had been living in for the past few months. The kitten he’d adopted is there, as well, laying across his stomach as he stares up at the sky. Damian’s legs are hanging out over the edge of the building, and though his body is relaxed his expression is fierce and he is hardly off-guard.

Occasionally he’ll shift his position or mutter something under his breath, but for the most part he just lays there, impassive. Unless, of course, someone sees fit to interrupt.

↬ AFTERNOON;

For someone who prides himself on his ability to adapt, Damian tends to be very habitual. Even after arriving in the City, it had taken him no more than a few weeks to set up a few haunts, and one of those was the corner bakery. Famous for their frivolously-decorated cupcakes, the bakers now know Damian by face, and his order of tall black coffee which he paired with different sweets—they swear he was steadily eating his way through the entire menu.

Today, he sits at his usual corner table. There is a single cupcake wrapper left empty one on side, surrounded by five empty cups that once held coffee. Sprawled across the table are various papers—maps, handwritten notes, print-outs and blueprints. Curious about Damian’s scrawl is its mirrored quality, nearly impossible to read without first reflecting it. Also curious is the different scripts and languages he uses. Every so often, he lifts his pen to his mouth and knocks it thoughtfully against his chin. His expression is one of utmost concentration, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t watching everyone else in the place, coming and going.

↬ MIDNIGHT;

Robin sits on the edge of a building—or perhaps “crouches” is more the right term for it. In any case, he surveys the city with a mixed expression of distaste and resignation, until he catches something out of the corner of his eye. It’s at this point that he swoops down into an alleyway, breaking up a robbery before it can occur. He knocks one man over as he touches down, shoving his elbow up under another’s chin. If he’s even more violent than normal, the people he’s attacking certainly aren’t in a position to complain. But someone else might be.

Comments

[onblackwings]

[ Brave, isn't he? Or maybe just stupid. She watches him for a few seconds longer, then hooks one claw under one of the corpse's ribs. She flings the entire thing lightly towards Robin, not much caring if it hits him or if he gets out of the way. ]

Take it back, then. I'm not overly attached.

[xuffasch]

_{( Damian jumps aside in time to miss the corpse headed his way, so it lands uselessly on the roof with an unsavory crack. )}

Tt. You did quite a job on him--he's obviously of no use to me now.

[onblackwings]

Oh, good. Then you won't mind if I continue with my dinner.

[ She doesn't make a move to keep going with dinner, though. She's too busy watching this tiny little caped thing with amusement. ]

[xuffasch]

I could hardly prevent you from it even if I cared to, could I?

_{( Because she looks to weigh about six million kilos, that is a scientific estimate. )}

[onblackwings]

No. [ It's a pleased little purr, and a toothy smirk goes with it. ] You couldn't.

[ And, that settled, her head snakes out to drag the corpse back again. It's finished off in just three more bites. ]

[xuffasch]

_{( Damian doesn't move, just observes. There's a small part of his brain telling him to get away from the giant monster, but the much larger portion is entirely too intrigued to do just that. )}

So, are cheap thugs actually that appetizing?

[onblackwings]

All humans taste more or less the same.

[ She composes herself a little, sitting up again and cleaning the gore away with a long, forked tongue. ]

Although... dedicated drug users have a sour taint.

[xuffasch]

_{( So this is a regular occurrence. Good to know that there's someone out there eating people, he supposes. )}

...well, obviously. Anything that gets into the bloodstream would have that effect. Theoretically.

[onblackwings]

[ with a touch of amusement: ] An expert on the taste of humans, are you?

[xuffasch]

Tt. You don't have to eat them to know how they work.

[onblackwings]

It certainly helps, though. You could try it one day.

[ there's a thoughtful little flick of her tail, but no other motion. Just how would one of these hero-types taste? Any different? Maybe she'll find out one day. ]

[xuffasch]

Something tells me I wouldn't enjoy it as much as you seem to.

_{( unless she caught a drug-addict hero. then it'd probably be pretty much the same. )}

[onblackwings]

You'll never know, I'd better not waste my breath.

[ Wings fold out from her body and flare, poised and ready for flight. ] Don't let me distract you, though. You looked busy.

[xuffasch]

_{( he just shrugs. )}

If you were worried about interrupting, you wouldn't have interfered in the first place.

[onblackwings]

[ There's a rumbling sort of growl which might be a chuckle, and without another word she launches into the air, wings snapping open. For a hero, he's not so bad. Maybe the young ones are better. ]

[xuffasch]

<sub>( welp. that was weird. but also interesting.

--back to beating people up now. )</sub>