Who: Bruce Wayne and Damian Wayne Where: The Batcave → Streets of Gotham When: Monday, September 10, Night What: Batman (kind of) and Robin (kind of) are out on patrol. Rating: PG
"Ophelia. Stop."
Damian turned in a half circle, cape swishing behind him as he went. The Siamese hunched down for a moment, tensed, then pounced on the cape as soon as it settled once again. Damian heaved a sigh, gathered up the long black material, then sunk down on his haunches. He picked up the kitten, held it close, then looked around the Batcave.
"Pennyworth," he started, already walking in the older man's direction. "If you could..."
Alfred was the picture of composure but the expression in his eyes told of amusement. "Give her here, Master Damian."
Damian gave a short nod in thanks and handed over the bundle of fur. Now that that was settled, he could continue getting dressed. The cape was cumbersome... more stifling than he would have thought. The cowl covered more of his face but was such a stark contrast from the dark hoods he preferred. He wasn't sure that he approved. Still, to be actually wearing The Suit was well worth any number of small detractors.
He'd yet to experience a trial, though Father had had two, so Damian had been spending his time alternating between monitoring the situation, searching for a resolution and training to get used to his new physique. Life in the city had continued onward, working around or, more concernedly, taking advantage of the situation. And there was always the off chance that the creature wouldn't get bored any time soon. Without a clear resolution, they had to soldier on like normal.
Which meant patrolling and doing what they could for the city. With a few noted adjustments, of course.
"Ready?" Damian asked, calling out to his now diminutive father, then started towards the car.