Bruce Wainright has (onerule) wrote in repose, @ 2016-04-11 21:48:00 |
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Entry tags: | *log, bruce wainright, damian wainright |
bruce & damian: wanright manor.
Who: Bruce & Damian
What: Talking, presumably.
Where: Wainright Manor.
When: Nowish?
Warnings/Rating: TBD.
Drugged, again.
Tethys.
The League.
Darkness. A glow, unnatural, peeking over the edges of rock—
Bruce blinked, a hard and rapid series of fluttering eyelids to rid himself of memories now was not the time nor place to recall. Later. Now, he needed to focus on other things... on his son, the one he'd barely gotten to know before his 'death'. Damian. And Helena, the questions that followed. One by one, piece by piece, he would collect his broken family and make it whole. He would reclaim what had been taken—stolen—from him.
Now, however, it was time to go home.
It wasn't New Jersey, but still, he'd missed it. That ache was in the quickening of his steps as he neared the entrance, the tightness in his chest when he recalled the moments when he'd thought, fleetingly, that he might not see the Manor again—or anyone else in it. Never had he knocked on the door of his own home, and he did not now. It wasn't arrogance or pride but a desire to fit back into his life, rather than to establish himself as an outsider.
He pushed the door open. Let his footsteps echo, purposely, to announce his presence. "Damian?"