Rooms

[X-posted to the blog SPOILER ALERT. As Spoiler, after trying to see if this is actually her Gotham and trolling around the journals.]

PROS:
Hot bath on deck.
DVR full of Gotham Heights.

CONS:
Free house but no one to invite.
Nothing in the fridge.
Might have to go back to school?
Mom is MIA.

TBD:
No sign of dad?
No assassins either?

So, situation may or may not be dire. But at least it looks like there isn't 200,000 bucks on my head, so like, that's a plus.

I'm going to take a stab in the dark. Vacation?

[Public]

Simply a picture of this.

[Public - Some time after this]

Fuck

What day is it? Bruce, I'll be home really quick. Why Bruce Fuck

[At this point the post abruptly cuts off - not scarily - just stops for about five minutes - Once on the other side of the door - really known only to him that he is in the exact same position as he was moments prior. Only this time in the hotel lobby.]

Fuck.

( The runes were charcoal pressed with thumb on skin, the blood spilled over wood )

[Bruce W]

What do you know of magic, here?

[Public]

[As Zatanna Z]

I seek the ones disturbed by things that are impossible.

[Alfred P]

Alfred.

How's Emily? I thought I was going to be right back as soon as this thing was over, but it was a little more complicated than I expected.

[Barbara G]

Do me a favor?

[Jim G]

Hey, got a second?

[Jason T]

Are you in Marvel or at the manor?

[Alfie P]

Hi, Alfie.

[Private to Bruce, after the news]

You'll keep being out too late, I suppose.

[After a disturbing commercial airs.]

Who the hell was that?

[Deliveries to: Bruce W, Selina K, Dick G, Stephanie B, Alfred P.]

[A card, stamped with AirMail and postmarked from Prague of all places. Inside is a simple Thank you, written in Helena's hand, and though the cards are identical, if checked they all show slight variations on the inside text to indicate that they're handwritten instead of simply copied. There's no return address on any of them.

Alfred's alone shows what might be a crumb. The cookies were damned good.]

[Delivery to Gwen S.]

[Gwen gets the same card as above, but on the inside hers says, Better late than never. Merry Christmas, -Hels and comes with a festively wrapped package. Inside is an empty photo album, so she might put new pictures of whatever she likes inside, a slouchy hat in bright purple, something a little science-y, something very science-y, and something fanciful.]

[Text to Harley Q.]

[A picture of a panty-clad hip.]

[Once she's back in the Chinatown apartment, and after CPS comes around asking questions about Emily's disappearance.]

[Locked to Jason T]
Hey. Everything okay?

[Late Monday night, Emily Osborn disappears from the home where she's currently being fostered while the sticky situation of her custody is sorted out. She is put to bed on Monday night, and by Tuesday morning, she is gone.

An amber alert goes out for the area, but with no witnesses to the crime and only a bedroom window slipped open, there is nothing to trace. Police begin searching and vow to find the child as the already high-profile case hits the news again.]

[lock to alfred p]

Hey, I'm coming over to the manor. I might be staying for a little while, and I've got a little girl with me. Hope that's okay.

[After a few phone calls from well-meaning old ladies, under the assumption that Miss is Helena, he sends her a text.]

Very amusing, Miss.

[If this isn't Helena, that might be a weird message.]

Yes, there will be a dinner on Thursday, and I'm putting a setting for all of you.

Happy Christmas.

[Edited: Private to Gordon]
In case you missed this, Officer Gordon, you are to be part of Christmas. Try not to be shocked by how old I am, thank you.

[Edited AGAIN: Private to Holly R.]
Miss Holly, I do not believe we've met, but a little cat whispered in my ear that you're a friend of the family. It'd be my pleasure if you'd consider joining us for Christmas dinner.

[Batfam + Everyone Dickie has ever met in his life etc etc etc etc]

It's a GIRL.

Lucy Adelaide Barbara Gordon-Grayson (Yes. She has five names.) was born this morning, 20 December 2014 at 9:36 AM. She weighs 8 pounds 6 ounces, and has absolutely no hair whatsoever. She's got 10 fingers, 10 toes, and blue eyes (that will stay that way, thank you very much).

She's pretty much the most perfect thing in the Universe, Babs has been to space and can verify this. She's healthy and beautiful and squishy.

Babs was amazing and is doing great, she is taking a well deserved rest. And Lucy, my daughter, and I are hanging out taking hospital selfies.

[About 34 selfies of Dickie and Lucy are attached to this post - yes 34. There are more where these came from.]

We'll be out of here tomorrow, but if you want to come visit us here, you are more than welcome. And bring gifts, we just had a baby for Christ's sake. ;)

[Eddie N]

Hi.

[Helena W.]

You're an aunt.

[Helena W]
[Inserts a Christmas picture of the children he was tasked to watch.] Annual interest has been distributed. How's Tokyo, Miss Helena?

[Death]
[There've been a few false starts, and he's switched the name back and forth between Death and Em. He finally just gives up and writes the truth.] I'm not quite sure how to begin talking to someone called Death, or even if one should. But you reached out before, and it's good manners to return the favor.

I hope the holidays haven't been too busy for you, miss. [He refrains from writing anything about the family in particular. What would the point be? This is already really weird.]

[Locked Batfam + Everyone Dickie knows ok.]

Babs and I thought it seemed like a good day to have a baby, so we're at the hospital.

Taking boy/girl votes.

Everything is going exactly the way it's supposed to.

I'll keep everyone posted.

Who: Alfred and Barbara
Where: Wayne Manor
When: rtfn
What: Alfred needs to meet Barbara, Barbara needs some emotional support, and bb needs to get out
Warnings: general feels, baby

( do you feel like driving? Right now? )

[Spending the night at Wayne Manor wasn't something Selina did. In fact, recently, it was something she was very careful not to do. But she was willing to break her own rules; she was fickle, after all. Helena wasn't here, and neither was Damian, and all the reasons she'd stayed away didn't seem so impressive in the wake of Bruce's loss. And, alright, maybe she liked the warm bed and the safe arms that came with it, too.

She slept in, and she soaked, and by the time she padded down to the kitchen of the Manor it was past lunchtime. She had no idea when tea happened, and she wasn't going to ask; asking wasn't her style. But she knew where the kitchen was, just like she knew where everything was in this house, and she made her way there. One of Bruce's dull grey shirts that hung nearly to her knees, those pearls she so liked to borrow, and a pair of socks to her shins.

She walked into the vast space, and she smiled at Martha, who was following at her heels. Too many dogs in this house by half, and the cat jumped up onto a shiny, clean counter. She grinned.] I don't think the old butler is going to like you doing that. [She scratched beneath the cat's chin, and then she slid up onto said counter herself. Annoying butlers was, she thought, a good way to start the day.]

[Eddie N. & Dick G.]
[the fuzziest of fuzzy times]

The cremation will be at [time/place].

A memorial will be at [time/place].

Master Grayson, Master Nigma, I will appreciate your telling the people who need to know. Thank you for your assistance.