[h1]The Bat-Cave [/h1]

Three days. 

Three days of constant vigilance. Three days of non-stop fighting against what seemed like every mugger, miscreant and madman in existence. Three days as Gotham's only real protector.

Three days without his father. 

True, once that would hardly have registered to Damian in the least. He'd spent nine years with no knowledge of his father at all besides occasional stories from his mother often told in between rounds of vicious combat training that had passed for bonding between them. From those he had come to Gotham expecting a living legend, a stern shadow that haunted the night striking fear into the hearts of the wicked, a peerless warrior who was always more myth than man. 

The truth had been considerably more complex. Still Damian had fought and struggled to understand his father's world, to become part of it. Even after two years he was still unsure of his place in it, but he had come to accept that what they did was necessary or even vital to the survival of Gotham, maybe to the survival of the world itself. The world needed Batman and Batman needed Robin. Now that Batman was missing it stood to reason that the world would need Robin at least twice as much. So he had been fighting without sleeping and barely eating for just about three days, doing what he could to keep control of Gotham's streets by himself. Only the League of Assassin's training kept him on his feet at this point, but Damian was holding the city together. at least that was what he told himself he was doing. If each punch he threw and each criminal he took off the streets also happened to distract him from a certain level of gnawing anxiety and even...concern(?) over his father's disappearance, well Damian was hardly about to acknowledge it.

After all, he was Damian Wayne, Son of the Bat, Grandson of the Demon! He needed no one and absolutely didn't miss his father and he certainly wasn't worried about him. Such concerns were beneath him, it was only the future stability of Gotham he was concerned for and even then he was more than capable of keeping the city stable by himself. So when Pennyworth initiated the Empty Nest he took it in with the casual indifference that he used for most situations. If he didn't complain about needlessly calling in the others when he already had things handled like he normally would, well it was clearly because he had more important things to worry about. Like rumors that there was a [i]fake[/i] Robin in his city! A [i]girl[/i] Robin at that! Just because he'd been too busy keeping the city together to deal with it himself didn't mean he would stand for such an outrageous insult to the mantle that he'd earned!

The others returning gave Damian the perfect opening to go deal with the copycat Robin and skip out on having to play nice and socialize with whoever Protocol Swarm dragged in from the shadows. So by the time Grayson had arrived Damian had already gotten suited up and ready to head out to find his unwelcome copycat.

He gave Grayson a brief nod of acknowledgement as he passed toward one of the many hidden exits. [color=firebrick]"Grayson. If nothing else the first to arrive is one of the least incompetent. I'm sure you'll call for me when I'm inevitably needed to rescue you but I've no time for your usual inane banter. Now you're here, there's a personal matter I need to go deal with."[/color] [i]Violently[/i] his tone and posture implied, though with Damian it hardly needed implying. 

No, with Damian violence was almost always a matter of course.

[hr]

[h1] Streets of Gotham [/h1]

It hadn't taken long to pick up her trail. The would-be Girl Wonder moved and fought through the city with all the stealth of an exploding fireworks factory. Decent for a complete amateur, Damian would concede that much. For one thing she hadn't managed to get herself killed. Yet. But everything about her was an insult to him. Her combat technique was sloppy and unrefined, her quips were ill-timed and left her prone to distraction [i]and then there was the costume![/i] Even on the occasions when he'd sneaked out in a modified version of one of Drake's old outfits it had been less of a disgrace than that abomination to the R this girl was wearing.

So he took his opportunity, dropped down as silently as only a boy raised his whole life among assassins and The Batman could into the shadows of an alley behind her and announced himself with the purposefully audible hiss of his sword being partially drawn from its' scabbard. Damian was extremely fond of the sword, even if he'd had to dig it up from where he'd buried it outside the cave and sneak it on during his patrols these last few nights. It had belonged to Grandfather and was allegedly made of true Damascus steel, certainly seemed sharp and durable enough to be true and possessed of the correct patterning. In any case he followed it up with his best imitation of his father's scowl, the one that occasionally made criminals surrender all on its' own. He was about to teach this insolent girl what a real Robin was like.


[color=firebrick] "Take off that [i]disgusting mockery[/i] of a Halloween costume before I [i]cut if off you myself![/i] Then go home and stay off of my streets!"[/color]