Helena Wayne ;; age 11 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
batsmeow) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2012-10-03 12:03 am
batsmeow) wrote in capeandcowllogs2012-10-03 12:03 am
Entry tags:
You burst onto the scene already a legend
WHO: Helena and Damian Wayne
WHERE: Damian's firehouse
WHEN: Early Wednesday morning.
WARNINGS: Bat-sibs get their own warning.
SUMMARY: Helena wakes up as an eleven year old and breaks into Damian's house in search of some answers and also her daddy.
FORMAT: Para to start, but it's your choice!
It's hard to explain exactly what feels wrong, but the second she opens her eyes, Helena knows something is off. She isn't in Wayne Manor, she can tell by the sounds of traffic and the voices carrying up from outside. And she isn't even in Gotham either, as evidenced by the distinct skyline of Manhattan as viewed from the window in the strange bedroom she's found herself in.
After pinching herself as hard as she can to wake herself up, she realizes she isn't actually dreaming and her mind initially leaps to the worst possible conclusion: she's been kidnapped. It's the worst scenario her parents had warned her about for years, the one they'd been teaching her to avoid by training her to defend herself. The daughter of Bruce and Selina Wayne is a target for evil-minded people, Batman aspect aside. Panic sets in and Helena goes into stealth mode, using the methods her mother taught her about remaining unseen as she surveys her surroundings. Back to the wall, she sets about searching for her captors or any signs that her life is in immediate danger. But the apartment is orderly, tidy, and there is nothing at all preventing her from leaving. So she decides to do just that, after giving the place one last sweep, just in case.
Nothing in the apartment is familiar to her, save for one thing. On the kitchen counter, next to an expensive looking leather purse sits a small black address book, an old fashioned one with names or initials and telephone numbers written in neat, legible cursive-- handwriting that Helena immediately recognizes as her own. This is bewildering for her, she certainly doesn't remember writing down these names and addresses, but she knows her own writing, she's been practicing her penmanship a lot lately and there is simply no mistaking it. A more thorough examination proves her suspicions are accurate, as her own name and vital statistics are written in the book as well. But that provides more questions than answers. Perhaps her father can make sense of all of this. She'll just have to get back to Gotham as soon as she can and let Daddy sort everything out. She grabs the purse and heads out the front door.
But the area code for Gotham does not exist, she realizes as soon as she tries to make a collect call from a pay phone down the block. None of the telephone numbers she knows work, even calling Dick's house number is useless. Frustration rising, she flips open the address book and searches for something, anything familiar. There is absolutely nothing of use in this stupid book, and she nearly flings it to the ground in frustration when one address catches her eye. It's on the W page of the book, written lightly in pencil, just barely dark enough to read. With nothing to go on but a hunch, she shoves the book back into the purse and starts walking.
As she approaches the building, Helena wonders briefly what would possess her to write down the address for an old firehouse. It's very obviously not in use anymore, so maybe it's a shop, or somebody's house. But who? She stands on the sidewalk, staring up at the imposing brick structure for several long seconds before she decides to sneak her way inside, just to look around. Maybe whoever is inside can help her find her parents, or at the very least explain why she would have written down this address in a book.
The firehouse is probably armed with some sort of security system, most buildings are nowadays. Luckily, Helena has been training her whole life to break and enter discreetly. It takes her only a minute to find a window she likes and squeeze her way in, purse still slung over her shoulder. Now that she's inside, it's time to play detective and figure out what exactly is going on here.
WHERE: Damian's firehouse
WHEN: Early Wednesday morning.
WARNINGS: Bat-sibs get their own warning.
SUMMARY: Helena wakes up as an eleven year old and breaks into Damian's house in search of some answers and also her daddy.
FORMAT: Para to start, but it's your choice!
It's hard to explain exactly what feels wrong, but the second she opens her eyes, Helena knows something is off. She isn't in Wayne Manor, she can tell by the sounds of traffic and the voices carrying up from outside. And she isn't even in Gotham either, as evidenced by the distinct skyline of Manhattan as viewed from the window in the strange bedroom she's found herself in.
After pinching herself as hard as she can to wake herself up, she realizes she isn't actually dreaming and her mind initially leaps to the worst possible conclusion: she's been kidnapped. It's the worst scenario her parents had warned her about for years, the one they'd been teaching her to avoid by training her to defend herself. The daughter of Bruce and Selina Wayne is a target for evil-minded people, Batman aspect aside. Panic sets in and Helena goes into stealth mode, using the methods her mother taught her about remaining unseen as she surveys her surroundings. Back to the wall, she sets about searching for her captors or any signs that her life is in immediate danger. But the apartment is orderly, tidy, and there is nothing at all preventing her from leaving. So she decides to do just that, after giving the place one last sweep, just in case.
Nothing in the apartment is familiar to her, save for one thing. On the kitchen counter, next to an expensive looking leather purse sits a small black address book, an old fashioned one with names or initials and telephone numbers written in neat, legible cursive-- handwriting that Helena immediately recognizes as her own. This is bewildering for her, she certainly doesn't remember writing down these names and addresses, but she knows her own writing, she's been practicing her penmanship a lot lately and there is simply no mistaking it. A more thorough examination proves her suspicions are accurate, as her own name and vital statistics are written in the book as well. But that provides more questions than answers. Perhaps her father can make sense of all of this. She'll just have to get back to Gotham as soon as she can and let Daddy sort everything out. She grabs the purse and heads out the front door.
But the area code for Gotham does not exist, she realizes as soon as she tries to make a collect call from a pay phone down the block. None of the telephone numbers she knows work, even calling Dick's house number is useless. Frustration rising, she flips open the address book and searches for something, anything familiar. There is absolutely nothing of use in this stupid book, and she nearly flings it to the ground in frustration when one address catches her eye. It's on the W page of the book, written lightly in pencil, just barely dark enough to read. With nothing to go on but a hunch, she shoves the book back into the purse and starts walking.
As she approaches the building, Helena wonders briefly what would possess her to write down the address for an old firehouse. It's very obviously not in use anymore, so maybe it's a shop, or somebody's house. But who? She stands on the sidewalk, staring up at the imposing brick structure for several long seconds before she decides to sneak her way inside, just to look around. Maybe whoever is inside can help her find her parents, or at the very least explain why she would have written down this address in a book.
The firehouse is probably armed with some sort of security system, most buildings are nowadays. Luckily, Helena has been training her whole life to break and enter discreetly. It takes her only a minute to find a window she likes and squeeze her way in, purse still slung over her shoulder. Now that she's inside, it's time to play detective and figure out what exactly is going on here.