Who: Damian Wayne, knowledge eventually open to Tim Drake Where: Wayne Manor When: Sunday, July 31st What: Damian is considering all his options. Rating: PG
Since the news, Damian had been going out of his way to avoid people. Thankfully, most people in the manor seemed to get the hint. Damian was many things but subtle wasn't his best trait. It was bad enough that father was married but now that there was a baby on the horizon. He hadn't been expecting this. Father had hand relationships before but they were little more than dalliances-- fodder for the tabloids. But Lance wasn't some rich socialite who only knew the facade of Bruce Wayne. No, she was an accomplished crime fighter in her own right and she wasn't going away.
In fact, her career came with years of connections, proved by the gaggle of archers who had recent visited. Sin had been an adjustment and Damian was loathe to consider the other possibilities. It wasn't as if the Manor didn't have enough room. And yet, somehow, the walls felt all too small and suffocating. Sharing didn't come easily to Damian and he wasn't about to start now.
He waited until the manor was fairly quiet then had managed to snag Drake's laptop and make his way to one of the remote corners of the manor without being seen. Distracting Titus had taken a bit of time as well as a significant amount of chicken. Privacy was of the utmost importance in more ways than one.
Finding a remote spot, Damian sat cross legged on the floor and started the machine. It booted quickly and asked for a password prompt. Well, Damian had been expecting that. He pulled out a USB from his pocket and quickly attached it to the machine. He could have used his own computer, or the one down in the cave, but Father kept logs of all the activity (though Damian doubted he was focused enough to pay attention to them at the moment.) In contrast, Drake was nothing if not paranoid. He was bound to have his own secure connections outside of Batman's network.
Damian was confident enough that he could cover his tracks-- and even if he wasn't-- Drake was sure to be more confused than anything. It took significantly longer than Damian liked to crack the encryption (Drake wasn't completely incompetent at all things after all) and then he opened up a private browser session.
The webpage loaded quickly displaying a picturesque view, distinguished font, and a prominent school crest. Gotham Academy. Historia Magistra Vitae. History is life's teacher. He frowned at the page, hesitating for just a moment, then clicked on the link for Admission information.