Cassandra had arrived. She and Damian were the two members of the family that Dick knew the least and quite possibly, they were the most dangerous. The League of Assassins, The League of Shadows. The Society. It went by many names but it only had one reputation, one of fear. It trained the world’s most deadly assassins, including Damian and Cassandra. The League was led by Damian’s grandfather, the demons head, Ra’s Al Ghul. A man who had lived for centuries, who had seen empires burn to the ground, mostly by his hand at that. Dick himself had come close to death from Ra’s hand many a time. One particular encounter was properly etched into his brain; an encounter that left Dick with a shattered collarbone and only one kidney. It was their pasts that worried him about his two younger siblings but no matter his relationship with Bruce, he always understood his judgement. So if Bruce was happy bringing them to the family, Dick would be too. It was something he had always done. The drop of a pin, such a light but noticeable sound. It drew everyone’s attention to the burning fireplace where the one and only Bruce Wayne stood. Of course he had been in the Batcave all this time, all play and no work makes Bruce a very dull boy. Selina’s entrance was much more grandiose, the French doors atop the staircase flying open and she descending the stairs in an elegant black dress that showed off every inch of her sultry curves. Such a contrasting pair were those two but somehow, they seemed to fit together. “I’m glad you all could make it” Bruce’s voice, even when being polite, always had that aura of forcefulness. It was strange how he could switch between the sombre and dominating Bruce that all in the room had come to know and the Bruce to the outside world, the light hearted, charming philanthropist. There had always been a question thrown around the cape and cowl community. Who was the real man? Bruce or Batman? Dick, Bruce’s oldest companion bar Lucius Fox, wasn’t even sure of the answer himself. “I’ve taken the liberty of having all of your old rooms fixed to accommodate you for the evening. Your suits and dresses are already waiting for you. I have only two rules. One, there is to be no arguing whilst under this roof and two; there will be no patrolling tonight. You have the night off” Straight shooting, simple and to the point. Oh how Dick had missed Bruce’s rule book. “I know some of you will be weary of me” Selina stepped in front of the assorted members of the family, it was almost like a firing squad. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I have spent years fighting all of you but things have changed. I love Bruce and he loves me. You may want it, you may not but I’m telling you I’ll right now that I will stop at nothing to earn your love as well” Bruce walked around his family to take Selina’s hand. “I suggest you all get used to this and do it fast. We’ll leave you to it and we’ll see you at the ceremony tomorrow “ The Bat and the Cat walked away from the crowd and out into the garden for a final moonlight stroll in the snow. The Next Morning – Abandoned GothCorp Cryo Facility The small, old television screen played the live news feed from Wayne Manor. The beautiful Vicki Vale telling the world about the love story of Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle. Cold blue eyes stared through the screen as Victor strapped on his EXO glove. He may have been cured of his own icy malady some three years prior but he didn’t need his illness to use his suit. He picked up a snow globe from his work bench and watched the tiny glass dancer inside. "Have you ever seen a flower die? Watched something that was once so beautiful, so full of life, collapse and rot from within? “My heart is cold, unfeeling. What little humanity was left in me has been stolen. It was stolen by this dark city along with my dear sweet Nora” Victor launched the globe into the tv screen and turned to two shadowy figures that stood motionless behind him, “Today, we steal the love from Gotham and we freeze its heart. My Tandems, let us show them how harsh winter can be….”

Hours before [Open chat interface] [User: Dr. Fries has joined the chat] Dr. Fries: TANDEM, wake up. [User T1 has joined the chat] [User T2 has joined the chat] The sound of hydraulics hissing cut through the air. The sleep pods that contained the cyborgs opened, their doors lifting upwards to reveal the sleeping machines. Eyes opened in sync, glowing bright blue and focused on nothing. The restraints and wires attached to them withdrew, allowing them to step out of the chambers in time and straighten their backs. The two cyborgs stared straight ahead, arms at their sides and feet together. T1: T1 Online. T2: T2 Online. Dr. Fries walked over to stand before the two creatures. He didn't look up from his phone as he silently gave them their orders. Dr. Fries: Good. You have a mission tomorrow morning. Loosen up in the gym and be ready by 0900. Understand? T1: Affirmative. T2: Affirmative. Dr. Fries hid a small hint of a smile. There was something about having two killing machines answer to your every order that stroked the ego. His face quickly went stony again. "Now go," He said, pointing to the door. The two turned on their heels and walked away silently. He had to admit, they even gave him the creeps sometimes. The two cyborgs walked down the hall towards the gym, eyes straight forward and walking in sync. They made almost no sound as their metal feet stepped against the floor. [Open private chat interface] [User T2 has joined the chat] T2: Good morning. Neither of the two looked at each other. They continued to walk side by side as if nothing was amiss. [User T1 has joined the chat] T1: Good morning. They continued to walk silently. The gym was on the other side of the compound, making for a fairly long walk. They were almost there when T2 suddenly stopped after passing one of the tech's offices. He backed up and looked into the doorframe. The woman that usually sat at the desk wasn't there, but something strange had taken her place. T1 quickly took position at the other side of the doorway, peering in curiously. On top of the desk sat a small pine tree with lights and brightly colored balls hanging on it. T1: Why is there a tree on the desk? T2: What do you think it means? T1 straightened up and quietly walked into the office. He approached the tiny tree with caution. One metal finger reached out slowly to tap one of the bright, shiny little balls. The ornament fell to the floor at his prodding, busting into a million pieces. T1 eyes widened slightly, his head whipping around to look at T2. They both turned and quickly absconded. They continued to the gym without another word. A few hours later Dr. Freeze: TANDEM, please report to my office immediately. The two cyborgs froze on the obstacle course they were currently running. They looked at each other. T1: Do you think it is about the tree? T2 frowned. T2: Perhaps the mission. Oh, right. The mission. The two left and trekked across the compound until they stood just inside the doorway of Dr. Fries's office. He seemed to be talking to himself, mostly. The two didn't bother to answer. The doctor open a file and began to download it into them. Dr. Fries: This is your mission. T1: Download complete. Mission received. T2: Download complete. Mission received. The cyborgs were be given a complete layout of the mansion, grounds and inside, a facial recognition of each Bat family member, a rundown of their fighting styles, a list of people attending the wedding, diagrams of every weapon Batman and co. had ever been recorded using, and anything else that could possibly come in handy. Once the file was completely downloaded, they turned and left to load up at the armory.

shifted so as not to mess things up.

After Bruce and Selina had left the immediate vicinity - although not necessarily earshot, she wasn't all that concern, she let out a long groan. "Uuuuuugh." She rotated her chair and gave the others a wry smile. "Well, at least I'm pretty sure we can all agree that this is going to be annoying. What in the hell is he thinking?" Barbara shook her head. "I could get it if it was just a sex thing, but marriage? Really?" She had a feeling Damian might not be too keen about hearing about his father's sex life. Or any of them, really, but that was their problem. They'd never patched into Batman's suit for a chat midway through a liaison, they could live with discussing it a bit. "It's not that I think Selina's up to no good. On a scale of one to -" Joker was the go-to reference for that, but she slid right past it, "Victor Zsasz, I'd say she rates about a two. She was never really a threat. But Jesus, it's one thing to flirt on a rooftop, it's another to be married to someone." Barbara wasn't crass enough to lay down a bet on how long the marriage would last, but the thought did flash through her mind.

Things had somehow managed to get even worse. Now Damian was suddenly forbidden to argue with anyone? In addition of the horrific nature of the "wedding" by itself, with Drake here and just as irritating and hateful as ever Damian would probably die of pent-up stress before the wedding even started and apparently he was expected to wear a full suit tomorrow on top of everything else. The Kyle woman had the nerve to make a big speech about how they needed to accept her as part of the family now and learn to love her? Who exactly did she think she was to suddenly waltz in here and expect he would care for her in the least? It was sickening, really. Actually, Damian had to visibly suppress the need to vomit when Barbra mentioned it being "a sex thing". There were some things even a mind such as his didn't dare to contemplate even if he agreed it was annoying. "At least you won't have to live in the same house with...that every day. You aren't even the one she's been trying to convince to call her 'Mother'" Damian managed to make the last part sound even more sickening than his actual almost getting sick "And Personally I'm still not convinced that this isn't some kind of scheme or long running con. She'll marry him so that she legally has rights to all of our things and the estate then steal it from him somehow. Either that or she's some kind of mind-control plant monster or a robotic duplicate programmed to get him to let his guard down by seducing him and then assassinate him or rob him. I tried to dump a bucket of plant-killer on her from over a doorframe as a test but she's surprisingly quick.Also...I'm not allowed EMP-batarangs or large-scale experimental electromagnets inside the Manor. I've tried explaining it, but Father becomes a complete imbecile around her and both of them treat me like a child." He might not be able to argue with them, but maybe he could get them to agree that they needed to stop the wedding.

Murder Scene, Crime Alley, Gotham The freezing winter night was nullified by the comfortable warmth that Gordon had worked so hard maintain, the harsh stench of his cigarette occasionally burned his nose and eyes but it was still better than opening the window and letting the cold in. It was the same as every night for the last thirty some odd years, a call would come across the radio or his phone and every night he would jump in his car and drive the streets waiting to see what manner of horror that his city had to offer. Commissioner Gordon eyed the distance ahead of him, seeing the flashing red and blues of a squad car and a suit directing him on a safe place for him to park. After coming to a complete stop he took a deep inhale off of his cigarette then stuffed it into the ash tray, sighing slowly as he exhaled. ”I’m getting too old for this…” With a quick push on the door Gordon stepped out of the car and braced himself against a harsh and unforgiving wind, the familiar sounds of Gotham assaulted his ears as he tried to focus his mind to the task at hand. Already the vultures of the media were trying to get a look at the latest victim of Gotham’s daily living, their clamoring and snapping of cameras almost seemed to drown the natural sounds of the city around him an annoyance which he quickly dismissed. Turning into the alley the Commissioner took a broad sweep of the area, other than the dead body nothing seemed out of place. An oddity here in the city; the carnage was clean, precise, and purposeful. This was meant to send a message to someone, the only question was to who? In the distance Gordon spied Bullock talking to a couple of beat cops who had apparently arrived on the scene first. The faintest of smiles passed over James’ lips, he had known Harvey Bullock for most of his time in Gotham and in all of those years Bullock never seemed to change. The man still maintained his sometimes questionable lifestyle with all of his seedy street contacts and same dirty grey suit and overcoat. Sometimes Gordon wondered if he actually own another set of clothes. As Gordon approached the scene there were several things that seemed even stranger about the cleanliness, there was no signs of struggle at all around the scene. A murder like this, even if done by a professional killer, would have some signs that the victim would struggle against whatever it was that did this to her. ”Hey Commish, it’s odd seeing you slumming it around here with us normal schlubs.” The extremely impersonal greeting that Gordon had become accustomed to interrupted his train of thought. Harvey was never one to follow protocol, especially when it came to Gordon. ”Well Bullock someone has to make sure that your actually working the streets. Hell I half expected to find you over at Fish’s place.” ”Come on Commish! A guy’s gotta have some sort of leisure around this rotting cesspool of a city.” ”So what are we looking at Harv?” Sensing that his boss was wanting to change the subject from his dubious off hours past times Harvey brought the Commissioner to the dead girl laying in the center of the alley. A beautiful young woman, couldn’t have been any older than her mid-twenties; blonde hair, blue eyes, ruby lips. This was a young woman that was out on a night on the town. ”What we have here is a Jane Doe; no sign of any ID, still waiting on CSI to get here so we can check for prints. The suits have already combed the surrounding areas looking to see if anyone had seen her, and I just sent two more to check the nearest clubs and bars to see if she might have had a run in with some of the seedier joints in the area.” Pulling a pair of rubber gloves out of his trench coat pocket and stretching them all the way to his mid forearm Gordon slowly rotated the head the girls head left and right, keen eyes searching for any possible clue as to who might this particular killer be. Gotham had a nasty habit of attracting the absolute worst had to offer and he needed to make sure that it wasn’t someone that he was already familiar with, a few people came to mind that he sincerely hoped it wasn’t. On the left side of the neck, two puncture wounds evenly spaced, of relative size and shape an autopsy would have to determine where the blows struck but if he had to guess Gordon could assume that whoever did this punctured major arteries but not enough to immediately kill her. ”What do you think did this Harv?” Harvey’s general slack jawed stare gazed down at Gordon’s discovery, his general lack of knowledge fueled his lack luster response. ”If I had to guess…something long and pointy.” A sigh of annoyance escaped Gordon as he continued to search for any other signs. No significant bruising on the wrists, ankles or neck; finger nails still perfectly manicured, clothes still intact, whatever happened to this girl happened quickly and silently. To his knowledge, there was only one group of people that was able to do something on this magnitude, even though Gordon hoped against hope that he was wrong ”Best to keep that thought to myself…especially with the media hounds already barking at the fence.” ”Alright make a sweep of the area and see if we can find *something* to work with, Lord knows this poor girl didn’t do this to herself.” Almost instantly everyone on the police force that was in the area began quickly shuffling around and looking for any sort of clues in order to please their Commissioner. After a few minutes of waiting, and another lit cigarette, an officer came running around the corner holding a plastic evidence bag in his hand, out of breath he handed it to the Commissioner, “Sir, I think I’ve found something. “ Gordon looked over the contents of the bag carefully, finally something was going his way in this god-forsaken town. A knife, minor traces of blood, intriguing design. A feather, or so it appeared to be and based on its size and design it appeared to be a throwing knife. ”Oh, that must of came from the guy Greyson was chasing earlier.” If there was ever a time that he absolutely hated his former partner, it was at that moment. ”And just when were you planning on telling me that Detective Greyson had chased a potential perp away from a crime scene?” Realizing that he had just made a monumentally huge mistake in leaving out this crucial piece of information, Bullock quickly began back pedaling in attempt to make himself look better, ”There really wasn’t nothin to tell, the whack job came flying outta the sky like a damned circus act from Haley’s or something!” Gently rubbing the bridge of his nose to try and bring some relief to his now suddenly throbbing head, Gordon didn’t even give Bullock’s poor excuse of…well, an excuse instead opting walk back to his car and do something that he really didn’t want to do. Jim, where ya goin?” ”Thanks to you Harv, I’ve gotta go crash a party now.”

Wayne Manor-the day of the wedding Damian hated proper suits. They had to be almost literally the most combat restrictive clothing in the entire world. The jacket hampered arm and shoulder movements to a ridiculous degree unless he stripped down to the waistcoat while the trousers barely allowed for enough range of motion to execute proper kicks. Worse yet any acrobatics he had to perform would feel far more stiff and unnatural than normal and even though Damian insisted otherwise and been extremely specific Grayson or his father must have countermanded his orders in secret, because the tailoring made it near impossible for him to hide weapons on his person with any amount of decency. He would think it was like being tied up in a straight-jacket but having actually experienced that the suit was definitely far, far worse. But the absolute worst part of all was the damned neck-tie! It was like wearing a silk noose around his neck and never being able to take it off! It would be the very first thing an enemy would grab onto and it would make it horrifyingly easy to strangle him or give them access to strike his head or initiate all sorts of other grappling maneuvers with ease. Of course Grandfather often wore neck-ties, but at this point Damian had become convinced that he did so as a sheer statement of superiority in combat. It was an absolute death-trap and the worst part was... It seemed to be infuriatingly difficult to actually tie. He had studied the problem from every possible angle, but all of the different styles of knot had seemed virtually the same and all of them were equally needlessly complex! It wasn't that he couldn't do it, of course. He had no equal in any field he chose to seriously pursue, it was just that he didn't see the point of learning it, that was all! Before he had always managed to avoid wearing one at formal appearances over the last year or so, but of course today Father insisted just like he insisted that nobody argue. It was bad enough being constantly mocked by the Brown girl and putting up with Drake without having a stress-induced aneurysm, but he'd rather die than ask one of the others for help. Petty-minded as they were, they would all probably shame him for it for months if not years. So he sat in a corner with a sketchbook and the idiotic, improperly done neck-tie while everyone else presumably made preparations, trying extremely hard not to be noticed while drawing all the various ways Drake ought to violently pay for being such an irritant, then preferably roast atop a bonfire of all the world's formal suits.

buzz buzz Kate Kane awoke to the low hum of her phone vibrating. Her eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling and a unfamiliar penthouse. It took her half a second to remember how she got there. Beside her under the sheets a blonde girl stirred to find a comfortable position as Kate got up go answer her phone. "Katherine, where are you? You're going to be late for the wedding." "Grandma, the ceremony doesn't start for hours... yawn" "Did you just wake up? What were you doing last night?" "Uhh, I was just getting to know Natascha..." "Who?" "Natascha Yeshevsky, the Prima ballerina for the Moscow Ballet." she looked back to make sure she wasn't disturbing the ballerina's sleep. "Yes, well, I'm glad to see you're being more social. Now hurry up dear, there are people you need to mingle with. You do have something nice to wear, right?" "Yes grandma, I'll see you soon." Kate whispered good morning to the half-sleeping beauty before returning to her home where she prepared to spend the rest of the day shaking hands and making small talk with Gotham's richest and most successful. It was either going to be very interesting, very boring, or some combination of the two. One thing about being a masked vigilante: you pick up the habit of suiting up fast. It didn't take her very long to get ready. Most of the time was spent eating breakfast and taking a shower. Wayne Manor-the day of the wedding When Kate arrived at the wedding she felt she arrived needlessly early, but she could bare it if it made her grandma happy. The valet was kind enough to park her red convertible Porsche, which didn't stand out that much amongst the limos and Lamborghini's. And so she went to greet her grandparents, the tiredness and exhaustion somehow magically wiped away. "Katherine Rebecca Kane! What do you think you're wearing?" her grandma said with a gasp. "Its a suit grandma, don't you think I look snazzy?" Kate couldn't help but smile. The suit she wore was anything but cheap. Everything down to the shoes was either imported or custom made. It hugged her curves perfectly, and accentuated her powerful yet elegant frame. The red lipstick added a nice little touch that emphasized her emerald eyes. "I think you look very handsome, haha" her grandfather laughed heartily as he gave his granddaughter a hug. "Are you trying to draw attention to yourself?" "No, I'm just making sure I don't stay hidden." After a little back-and-forth Kate's grandfather was able to calm her grandma down. Its wasn't that she didn't like dresses, actually she had quite a few in her wardrobe. She was just in a tuxedo kind of mood today. And there was just something satisfying about shattering people's expectations. So she continued to mingle and snack on the little hors d'oeuvres that waiters carried around on shiny silver plates. Until eventually her grandmother inevitably called her over to introduce her to another young rich bachelor. "Katherine dear allow me to introduce you to Tim Drake, the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. Tim, this is my lovely granddaughter Katherine. Don't mind her audacious choice of wardrobe, she's still single you see, and doesn't have anyone to tame her rebellious side." Kate rolled her eyes and fought the urge to retort her grandma's not-subtle-at-all introduction. Instead she just went along with it just enough to satisfy her grandma. "Hi, just Kate is fine" she said, extending a hand out to Tim. "And I'm comfortably single, if I may add."

Steph had spent the majority of the social evening down in the Cave, having quickly disappeared after welcoming in Dick and Babs once everyone showed up. Someone had to be down in the Cave, someone had to be watching...she knew the surveillance systems that Bruce kept up and running at all hours. Advanced algorithims that would immediately warn members of the Cave of anything from a small scale bank robbery to the Joker deciding to run amok. But somehow, that wasn't enough for Steph--since taking the Batgirl cowl, not even Bruce had put in more time in the cave and on the streets than Steph. That she was passing any of her college classes was a miracle; and not the minor sort. She'd even grown fond of sleeping down in the Cave. It was dank, dark, and at times creepy...but somehow, someway, everything that might repel others about such a space seemed only to make Steph love it more. There was always work to be done, and Steph simply never stopped. Others had thought to voice their concerns that, maybe, Steph was going too deep. Her response? This wasn't her first rodeo; she knew her limits. Steph had gone from mantle to mantle to mantle faster than any Cave boy. And she was the only one outside Barbara herself to start her vigilantism on her own, and unlike Babs, Steph had done it without any connection to the Bat Family. She was still using a PSU tester to chase down a stray voltage issue in the new computer system for a new vehicle when the alarm went off--not alerting her to criminal mischief, but that her time had run out. It was with something of a sigh that Steph pushed away from her work, put her tools back, and went to shower. And not just shower--Steph was dressing up in ways she rarely did. Yesterday she'd made time to get a mani/pedi, nails glossed and tips frosted wedding white. The make up was more naturally toned, the only real color coming in the barest hint of purple that shadowed her eyes framed with her expert hand in eyeliner. Her hair took a little more time than she'd allowed, but eventually the loosely styled chignon that allowed bangs to frame her face was finished. The gown itself was a long dark blue taffeta tightly fitted at the bodice that began to loosen at the waist line until it flowed amongst her feet. She smelled of rosewater and lavendar, a faint scent until you got close to her--then it became apparent no scent on her was artificial, Stephanie Brown opting for the alluring power of nature over the overpowering sugary scents of most perfumes. "Up," was how Steph greeted the boy in a warm tone not hiding her affection, even if her glossed pink lips tried to hide the smile showing just how adorable she found the sullen boy in that moment. Stephanie was always after Damian Wayne; after him to eat, after him to shower, after him to stop trying to kill everyone. She knew what it was like to be left to yourself too much as a kid. For that very reason, Stephanie Brown refused to let Damian Wayne be taken down by it like she'd been at one time as a young girl. If nothing else, he'd--eventually--figure out the irritating blonde Batgirl was actually looking after him. That she cared to do so. Smart as Damian was, there was even an outside chance he'd realize such a thing before he turned 40.......not a great chance, but a chance. A thought that made her smile stay on her lips even as she quickly, and with blinding speed, finished tying the boy's tie after he'd stood up and dropped the sketch pad; a pad she snuck a look at. "Suit looks good on you. In that dashing, James Bond-dangerous type of way," she lied, but only about the James Bond-dangerous bit. Saying he looked utterly fucking adorable was not something Damian would react well to. Being called dashing and dangerous in the suit he was obviously uncomfortable in?...might just plant a seed in his mind that these suit things weren't so bad, afterall. "C'mon, you, escort a girl to the party. Leave the sketch pad--" Damian's face twisted in the confusion and anger of a child unhappy at being told 'no', though the sheer comfort in which Stephanie issued the order left little room for rebuttal. A trick she'd learn from Bruce Wayne. "--trust me, the ex-girlfriend; nothing tortures Tim Drake like this kind of event. You won't want to miss a moment of his misery by looking down at your pad all day." After walking from the edges of the event to the reception, pausing for a Society section photographer to pose with Damian, sneaking her arm around his slim shoulders and smiling at the camera to pose with the boy--hoping, desperately, that Damian was making that sour face of his for the camera. Judging by the photographer's nervous laughter, Damian had done just that. If Steph couldn't make such a face, at least she could heart that Damian was. Once arrived, it didn't take Steph long to find the beautiful Timothy Drake...or the presence beside him. Or to point both out to Damian "I think the redhead could take him." It was a joke. One she continued by noting an elderly woman in a rich gown standing not far from Drake and Kate Kane. "She could probably take Tim, too." A crooked smile filled her face at the very mental image of the high society granny taking down Tim Drake, just as Steph waved over at Kate in greeting.

In his arguably short time alive Damian had faced highly trained assassins, hordes of undead warriors that reeked of long forgotten battlefields, monstrous clowns and deranged serial killers all without batting an eye. But a faint scent of rosewater and lavender was all the warning he got before the arrival of something more dread-inducing and disturbing than any of those things. Stephanie Brown had become one of the most consistent and reliable people in his young life, in that she consistently and reliably tormented and nagged him on a daily basis. A thousand and one insults sprang instantly to mind at her approach, but he forced himself to swallow them all for the sake of appearances though he didn't stop faintly scowling. After all, today he was supposed to be a 'normal' child, or as normal as the formerly-secret-or-unknown biological child of billionaire Bruce Wayne was expected to be, at least. Casually threatening to find his knives and stab the Brown girl if she started up on her nonsense again would likely ruin the illusion. Besides, for whatever reason she tended to brush off his threats with infuriating non-chalance and continue whatever idiotic thing she was doing. Once she had even had the nerve to laugh in response, as if he'd said something FUNNY. For similar reasons he didn't bother resisting for more than a few fractions of a second when she ordered him to stand up in that bizarre tone of voice she always used. Long, painful experience had taught him that she would merely continue annoying him until he gave in or left violently and either way causing a scene now would jeopardize his cover. He wasn't sure how to respond when she moved to properly tie his neck-tie, though fortunately it was over before he even had the chance. He didn't think to hide the drawings from her either but was distracted from the thought as the blonde Batgirl commented on the suit. James Bonde was a ridiculously bad spy from the movies Damian had seen, but the man was effective enough as a killer and a life among assassins and (necessary) doomsday plots with a (falsely maligned) global terrorist organization made the films strangely, familiarly appealing. More importantly the idea that he could at least manage to still look dangerous in a suit even if he didn't feel like it was...acceptable for now even if they still seemed idiotic. For the sake of his cover he had to bite back an insult about lacking a girl to escort when she brought it up, then scowled even more when she ordered him to leave his sketchpad behind though he made no move to pick it up. Less than a year ago anyone foolish or arrogant enough to give him orders without backing it up via skill or blood would face immediate retribution. 'No' of any sort had not been a word he'd heard often. Now though oddly enough, he found himself going along with her now without thinking. The prospect of it allowing him to see Drake in an even more miserable state than himself likely did a lot to mitigate his pride. He even allowed her to put an arm around his shoulders and instead focused all of his pent up irritation and annoyance at a photographer, making a face that made arsenic-laced lemons seem sweet. Even the public knew he despised media circuses and he took a certain amount of enjoyment out of making the man squirm. His rage at the picture potentially ending up in another one of those vapid periodicals on celebrity children evaporated as Batgirl pointed out Kate Kane and how likely it was that she and her aging grandmother could beat Drake in a fight. Nobody was ever sure he had actually smiled in a truly happy, non-predatory way but in the moment he visibly almost laughed, decided it would be too out of place and undignified and suppressed it while settling for a casual smirk. As they waited for Kate and company to approach he tried to remember to put on his best 'normal child' impression while remembering how he had acted around her in their few previous high society meetings. He hated acting for strangers but it was necessary, of course. He projected a cheerful, jokey smile that was surprisingly, purposefully similar to Grayson's on a good day and said with full, precociously happy mockery: "Hi Miss Kane! If Tim's your date to the wedding, shouldn't he be wearing a dress that goes with your suit?" sometimes having to act childish out of necessity had its advantages.

Luke Fox busily typed away at a keyboard connected to a one of a kind computer, the base parts came from elsewhere but Luke had made the important adjustments. The computer monitor was a massive wall-mounted screen showing all sorts of information, number streamed up through the sides, but most notably it featured his suit as the centerpiece with multiple descriptions connected. The branches of information listed the details to his suit such as armaments, currently loaded equipment, power supply, and other details only few others knew. Still absorbed in his thoughts, thinking of countless improvements and load-out adjustments it took a few minutes for the man to realize his phone was ringing, by the time it caught his attention the ringing had already ended. Reaching into the pockets of his pants he pulled out his phone, thumbing in his password sequence he immediately gained access, pressing down on the phone icon it seemed he had missed two calls, one of which had left a voice mail. Opening up the message a voice began to speak and he quickly registered it as his father's, his father who had been living in Wayne Manor for so many years. Luke was hesitant to open the message but after his mother had left his father, Lucius, he figured it might do them both some good to speak again. Listening to the message Luke found that he was invited to Bruce Wayne's wedding as Lucius Fox's plus one. Luke rubbed his bald head slightly wondering if he should accept, deciding that it would be best to talk to his father under pleasant surroundings Luke tapped his computer's monitor a certain way to shut it off. Arriving a few minutes after the event started, due to the fact he had misplaced his suit, Luke noticed that the area was full of wealthy attendants already. His car was a grey Lamborghini, darkened windows, and a slightly altered spoiler which formed more of a 'v' at the end. Walking slowly inside Luke glanced around for his father, since he hadn't spotted him yet Luke decided to wonder around, occasionally following after a waiter offering a snack or drink.

The night went by with pleasant company and comedic conversation. Tim was one of the last to excuse himself. He made his way down to the batcave and walked along all the different trophies on display. The whole walk through was a timeline of the time Batman had worked in Gotham. It was powerful and calming. It was proof of what Bruce and the rest had done. It also made Tim realize he might have to start collecting trophies. Though the giant T-Rex and coin were likely to be an obstacle. After his walk through Tim returned to the manor and went to bed. Waking up the next morning Tim threw on a old shirt and shorts and started the morning with a jog. By the time he had worked up a sweat and made his way back for a shower. Once the sweat and grime was washed off his body he found a early breakfast had been delivered to his room. While munching on the meal he opened his laptop and got some work done. It wasn't until he heard the call of the house to prepare for the weddings guests. Tim did not enjoy formal gatherings. He found most company to be dull and out of touch with reality while the rest were all to comfortable living in luxury while the world slowly burned around them. Long ago he had given up on trying to rally other members of the trust fund baby group to support his community outreach programs. Still among the crowd of pointless 1%'s there were good people. Those that stood beside Tim during his community center Neon Knights anti-gang centers. Others who had supported the Wayne family in their work for the community. Changing into his suit and giving his tie a final tight tug he made his way down as guests began to mingle. After some friendly hellos were exchanged with old family friends and congratulations were handed out Tim found himself beset upon by an elderly woman accompanied by a younger woman in a tuxedo. Her most striking feature being her red hair. Without missing a beat Tim smiled and shook hands with the woman who introduced herself as Kate. It was easy enough to tell who the driving force behind this interaction was. Still Kate seemed to be humoring her grandmother enough to show up to the event. Tim wasn't one to avoid a curious character.”It is nice to meet you Kate and if I might say a untamed rebel is far better than a docile sheep.” He flashed a warm smile as Kate’s grandma gave a smile more linked to the fact that Tim was still chatting and hadn't walked away. “A comfort we both share.” Tim said. This earned a matching smile from Kate who had understood the meeting was enjoyed but had no second meaning or expectation. The small group was shortly joined by Steph and Damian. With Damian's cutting comment being the two’s introduction to the group Tim gave a smile for the people around them to know this was just a brother being snarky. Tim wasn't one to be drawn into a battle of pointless words filled with pot shots at dress and attire. Still he added this to the long mental list of why he really just did not like Damian. “Kate I would like to introduce my younger brother Damian. As you can see he has a way with words.” He then moved his hand over to Steph. “And this is Stephanie Brown. A good friend of the family.”

Bruce had always instilled in his teenage sidekicks that training was arguably the most important thing about being a vigilante. Being prepared for every eventuality. Fine tuning your mind and your body into a weapon. Bruce’s training methods had never changed in the many years he had been the Dark Knight but his protégé’s had all adopted their own little personalised training regimes that focused on their strengths and their weaknesses. For Dick, his agility and dexterity has always been his greatest strength. No one could move like Grayson could, not even Bruce. Much of Dick’s training was based around movement and speed. He was up the earliest out of the family, even earlier than Bruce. It wasn’t difficult for Dick to remember his old route through the forests behind Wayne Manor. Bounce off that rock, double backflip over the oak tree’s highest branch, slide across the downed sycamore and into the ravine for a few swift yoga stretches and martial arts drills (Jeet Kune Do was Dick’s preference) . Back up the cliff for a little parkour training and soon enough in his own mind Dick was back at the manor and trying to creep into his room as quietly as possible so as to not wake Barb. A short time later, Dick was best and a slim fit black suit with a white shirt and Nightwing blue tie; typical Bruce. The not so subtle attempt at rebuilding a long gone bridge it was a trademark of the one Mr Wayne. Dick and Barb soon joined the group of partygoers and it was an interesting mixture of socialites, money grabbers and reporters. It was clever of Bruce not to invite any of his Justice League cohorts in their civilian guises. With the joys of social media, it had become way too easy for people to put into a motion a chain wherein they can uncover a network of lies that a hero must weave. Dick was pretty quiet at the party, sticking to the age old adage of “If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all” Lucius Fox had been part of the furniture in the Wayne household for most of his life. Born just south of Crime Alley, Lucius initially started as a rookie beat cop for the GCPD which even back when was corrupt. He met Thomas Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth the night of December 22nd 1977 when he was the first responding officer to the murder of Martha Wayne. It was Lucius who investigated the crime and eventually brought Joe Chill to justice. Through this act, Fox essentially became the first extended member of the Bat family. In spite of being an officer of the law, Lucius real desire was science. So when Thomas Wayne created applied sciences, Fox immediately jumped to Wayne Enterprises as an engineer. Eventually becoming you Bruce Wayne’s guardian after the death of his father and butler, Lucius took Bruce on a trip around the world. Whilst Bruce stayed in the middle of nowhere to begin his journey, Fox returned to Gotham and started a family of his own. Eventually Bruce returned and was aided by his guardian in becoming the hero that Gotham deserved. “Ladies and gentlemen” Lucius began. “If you’ll please make your way inside, the service is about to begin” Outside the compound, three murky shadows lingers in the woods. The glowing red eyes of a man of ice aimed directly into the Solomon Wayne wing. “Go”

She stepped closer to the mirror to exam her makeup. Like the ugly silvery heels on her feet, Cassandra was unaccustomed to wearing it. But, she was fairly sure she had done a commendable job of applying it. Foundation was blended in, eyeliner wasn't to heavy, eye shadow was smooth and even, lipstick was pale and shiny... everything was in place. Stepping back she eyed her outfit once again. She found it hard to believe the Batm-- that Bruce hand picked her clothing for today's event. Most likely he sent a staff member to do the shopping. God, she did not like the heels at all. The gown was... doable. It was mainly held up with a single strap over the left shoulder. The colors of lavender and violet with the top, from the strap to about her diaphragm, having a checkerboard pattern, and the lower flowing rest of the gown having the colors blend from darker to lighter. The two patterns of the gown her broken up by a thick silver and bejeweled band. There was also a jacket. The outside felt like velvet, it was lavender with an embroidered abstract design, with the embroidery being silver with a golden outline. The inside lining was a dark gray cotton. Cassandra had many scars on her body. They were souvenirs from her chosen occupation. Most of the wounds she had gained over the years had healed quite well with minimal scarring which were only noticeable upon close inspection. The wounds on her back however, gunshots given to her by her biological father, were obvious and disturbing for others to look at. The jacket would cover those with ease. After a little pacing, reacquainting herself with how to walk in heels, she took a deep breath and exited her room. The hall of the upper level was all but vacant. As she neared the long winding staircase Cassandra could hear the chatter of people. A lot of people. Her descent down the stairs was slow, her heels clicking with every step. Click, click, click. The chatter of a room full of high society soon drowned the sounds of her shoes. Of course, she recognized no one. Not until she got halfway down the staircase. Not too far away stood Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown, and... Damian. Last night they, along with Barbara Gordon, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd, had only just arrived at the manor. Having Damian be the first to greet was unsettling for Cassandra. She had nodded and gave a soft, polite hello to the others. But, with Tim her dark eyes lit up upon seeing the young man's face. Being greeted by him made her feel warm, made her feel good. She had even dared to give him a hug. Out of all of her extended family members Tim was the one she felt the closest. Yes, Cassandra did have a connection with Damian, but that connection was an... unpleasant one. Cassandra admired Tim. She liked him. Yet before they could even begin to catch up, the Ba-- Bruce entered the room with Selina Kyle on his arm, causing the room's mood to change from uneasiness to nearly unbearable. “I suggest you all get used to this and do it fast. We’ll leave you to it and we’ll see you at the ceremony tomorrow.“ Those were Bruce's last words to his family before leaving the room with his fiancée. Cassandra expected the Batman to talk like during a mission. But, not for a social gathering. And to not even stay and talk to his protégés? It all rubbed Cassandra the wrong way. Now, here it was, the day of the wedding. The day that the Batman would marry the infamous Catwoman. Wayne Manor was filled to the rim with Gotham's "elite". Cassandra hoped the ceremony wouldn't drag on for too long. “Ladies and gentlemen," spoke the voice of Lucius Fox. “If you’ll please make your way inside, the service is about to begin.” Along than the Batman and Tim, dear Lucius held a special place in Cassandra's heart. After all, if it weren't for Lucius Cassandra will still be struggling to communicate verbally with others.

"Well isn't this lovely. I'll just leave you kids to mingle" her grandmother said before departing to join a group of elderly Gothamites. The smile on her face and bounce in her step suggested she was satisfied with the little trap she laid for Kate. Fortunately for Kate, Tim seems to get the picture; which is more than she can say about the other setups her grandmother instituted. She couldn't tell if they were dense, dumb, or arrogant. Either way, they did not know when to give up. ”It is nice to meet you Kate and if I might say a untamed rebel is far better than a docile sheep.” ... “A comfort we both share.” Tim said. "Pleasure to meet you" Kate said with a firm handshake. This Tim guy was nice enough, if a bit stiff. He seemed like one of those intense business men that were always checking their email or getting upset that some stock dropped .01%. She didn't want to jump to conclusions about someone she just met, but Kate really hoped he didn't start talking about business or how the Kane's should invest in Wayne Enterprises. Just because her family was well off didn't mean she knew (or cared) anything about investments or yearly profits or any of that pencil pusher stuff. But before her boredom induced nightmares could come true the littlest Wayne and a lavender scented knight came to her rescue. "Hi Miss Kane! If Tim's your date to the wedding, shouldn't he be wearing a dress that goes with your suit?" Damian said. pfffffft Kate nearly spit out her glass of 60 year aged red wine. "He's got a point, you'd look great in a dress." Kate did her best to contain her laughter. “Kate I would like to introduce my younger brother Damian. As you can see he has a way with words.” "Nice to meet you Damian. I like your suit." Like most people Kate has heard of the youngest Wayne. Yet the child before her was nothing like the brat that the rumors and tabloids made him out to be. But she had to admit there was something... eerie about him. There was an intense look in his eye, like there was rage deep in his bones. His smile was forced, like he was wearing a mask. Then again she thought the same thing about Bruce, so maybe it just ran in the family. He [Tim] then moved his hand over to Steph. “And this is Stephanie Brown. A good friend of the family.” "Oh yes, I know. I didn't expect to see you here, cupcake." she said humorously to Steph. This was the last place she expected Steph to show up, she didn't exactly seem like the rich and snobby type. That's what Kate liked about her, she wasn't fake like the others. She didn't care about having the fastest sports car or the most expense dress from a designer who's name you can't pronounce. Kate was glad there was at least one familiar face here. "I didn't know you had friends in high places. Love the dress by the way." The group continued to chat to the sound of world class musicians in the background, and Kate found herself having a better time than she expected. The overpriced food and drinks certainly didn't hurt. Red wine was always her personal favorite. But she couldn't shake this feeling like she was being watched, it sent a chill up her spine.

When was the last time you had a good night's sleep? One where you really felt recharged when you finally crawled out from the paradise of your mattress? Jason Todd couldn't remember the last time he slept at all, let alone slept well. A life involving neon spandex and the possibility of getting frozen in a block of carbonite had a tendency to cause sleepless nights. Not to mention Wayne Manor was just too damn quiet. Bruce did a lot to ensure his privacy. Batman might've forbidden his little bird-lings from patrolling, but he never said anything about sleeping. Sure, Jason would take advantage of the luxuries of running water and a personal bathroom, one couldn't become Robin without almost superhuman management of their internal clockwork, but he was noticeably absent from the wedding reception. Rather, he found himself watching the gathering unfold below him from a small sitting room on the manor's second floor, wearing the exact same set of clothes as the night before and surveying effectively every attendant. Honestly, a public wedding was asking for trouble, and Jason was more concerned about his extreme lack of firearms than how well he looked for Gotham's social event of the century. Damian had given him a particularly venomous look when he was up and getting himself ready, but screw him, Jason was old enough to make his own clothing decisions, or rather, defiant enough to tell Bruce to stick it. Lucius had even stopped by to try and rouse him, but he knew better than to drag it out. In that way, Jason could be just as if not more stubborn than his mentor. Besides, the sleep deprived ex-crime lord didn't have any real reason to be there anyway. Time had passed him by. He could see it just by watching them. The way Stephanie antagonized Damian or let her eyes linger on one Tim Drake. Cassandra did much the same to his immediate replacement. He never had any of that. Dick was too busy in Blüdhaven to give him any bother, Barbara was too busy judging him for not being Dick Grayson. The rest didn't even know him. Four years in the ground and four years away from Gotham. The family had grown, and he was left as an outlier. Before he knew it, one Lucius Fox had apparently summoned the riff-raff inside for the ceremony. Jason figured if he had any obligations, now'd be the time, so he turned around and made his way to the general sound of voices and violins.