Fly High, Fall deep

Multimuse Blog for AssembleRP Penned by Aria

[rvinedbloom]

with the confirmation that she was allowed to join him, stephanie moved towards the edge of the balcony to lean against the stone railing. resting her forearms on the rough surface, she clasped her fingers together and glanced down at the ground below. if she hadn’t known better, she might have thought nothing could touch her from up there. that was a proven deception, however, and she did know better. she wasn’t invincible or untouchable, as proven by black mask. she was just a girl. "so no cinnamon roll?" stephanie asked, turning to look at him with feigned disappointment. “are there at least more in the kitchen?”

damian was often intense, a byproduct of his parentage. with genes like his he wasn’t given a choice in the matter. it was less often that he spoke any worries he had aloud, and so when he did, stephanie listened. “what do you mean off?" she asked, hoping for an actual answer. "i followed the smell of cinnamon roll." @flyhxghfalldeep

[flyhxghfalldeep]

“There are more,” he said, voice low but flat with mild annoyance. “In the kitchen. Covered. Properly” Damian glanced at her then, eyes narrowing just a little. “The last batch left out went stale. Not my fault, by the way - I made them. Someone else failed the basic task of putting a lid back on" The jab was half-hearted, more habit than hostility. Truthfully, he didn’t really care. It wasn’t about the cinnamon rolls. It was the baking with Alfred Damian had enjoyed. If no one in the manor could manage basic food preservation, that was their problem, not his.

He leaned his weight on one arm, posture casual but not relaxed, never fully. Silence fell again between them, easy but edged with something unspoken. “You don’t feel it?” Damian asked after a pause, his voice quieter now. “Something’s… wrong” He didn’t continue right away. For once, the words didn’t come easily. He searched for the right ones, trying to shape the strange unease into something tangible. Damian was analytical by nature; problems were meant to be solved, threats to be neutralised. But this wasn’t something he could outthink or outfight. And that frustrated him more than he’d ever admit.

“Have you ever walked into your room and everything looks exactly the same, but it’s not?” he said finally. “Like someone’s been in there. Like the air’s wrong” His jaw tightened. Vulnerability had never come easily to him - he hadn’t been raised to sit with it, let alone speak it aloud. He tapped his knuckle once against the railing, a quiet, controlled motion, then stilled again, looking over at Stephanie. “I’ve felt like that all day” @rvinedbloom

[brvkencrwn]

" on the bright side, at least i came here alone ? " conner offered, a sheepish smile sent the woman's way. this would have been far worse for selina had conner brought along his closest friends, both of whom she was familiar with. “ i don’t really want anything, per say. i’m more just.. hiding out, laying low. i’ve been told you take in strays from time to time. ”

[flyhxghfalldeep]

Selina raised an eyebrow, arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, her silhouette sharp against the low glow of the loft. “Alone, huh?” Her tone was dry, skeptical. “That’s one point in your favor. If you’d brought the rest of the Kansas cornfield with you, I’d have kicked you off the balcony” She paused, the corner of her mouth twitching with the ghost of a smirk. “And if one of Bruce’s hundred bat-brats had come knocking? Let’s just say it wouldn’t have been a warm welcome”

She gave him a slow once-over—measured, but not unkind. “Hiding out. Laying low,” she echoed, lips curling into a wry smile. “You sound like half the people who end up on my fire escape. Stray behavior, alright” She paused, just long enough to let the silence ask its own questions. Then her expression shifted- cool, but sharper now, more direct. “I don’t mind taking in strays. I do mind uninvited trouble showing up at my door.” Her gaze locked on his. “So tell me, is someone going to come looking for you? Because if I’ve got heat headed my way, I’d rather not find out after my windows are blown in.” @brvkencrwn

[sepulchrals-deactivated20250701]

`　　　closed　　▸　　damian ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎W‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎@flyhxghfalldeep

barbara made her way down the steps of the batcave, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness, only accompanied by the quiet hum of computers and the flicker of glowing screens. gotham was deep in its midnight silence, but of course — there he was. hunched over the console like a soldier on a mission, files open, eyes sharp, posture stiff with focus that didn’t belong on someone his age. “you know,” she called out lightly, leaning against the railing with a teasing glint in her eyes, “most kids your age are, i don’t know, asleep by now? maybe dreaming about… something less broody?” barbara walked closer, stopping just behind him with an amused shake of her head. “don’t give me that look. you’ve probably rerouted half the cave’s systems already, and it’s only two in the morning.” she reached over to nudge his shoulder, soft but playful. “what would your father say, huh? oh wait — he’d probably be impressed. that’s the problem.” there was a flicker of genuine fondness in her expression, a softness that lingered even through the teasing. “you’re not a machine, damian. you’re allowed to rest.” she paused, tilting her head. “just don’t make me carry you to bed. i will. and i’ll tell everyone.” and despite the smirk on her lips, her eyes searched his for even the slightest sign of exhaustion — because beneath the bravado, she knew he needed someone to remind him he was still just a kid.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

Damian didn’t look up right away; the glow from the monitors cast sharp lines across his face, accentuating the scowl already forming on his brow. “I don’t dream,” he muttered absently, fingers moving across the keys with mechanical precision. “Waste of time.” But Barbara’s presence lingered - warm, patient, and irritatingly perceptive. He could feel her gaze on him, cutting through the armor he wore as easily as breath. His shoulders tensed, then eased slightly when she nudged him.

“I’m not tired.” He meant it. Mostly. Even if his body disagreed - the dull ache in his neck, the burn behind his eyes. He’d long since trained himself to ignore those signals. They were nothing but distractions. Weaknesses. His voice dropped, firmer now, as he stared at the screen. “And stop calling me a kid. I’ve seen more than most adults ever will.” He paused. A long, reluctant beat. Then, with the weight of a concession dragged from somewhere deep: “…I guess a five-minute break wouldn’t kill me.” He leaned back in the chair, just enough to acknowledge her without surrendering outright. “And don’t even think about carrying me,” he added dryly. “I bite.” @sepulchrals

[hceroiscms-deactivated20250608]

the green flash clung to that alley, shadows cutting through in a brief sight of rio's true form, something not meant for human eyes that quickly shifted. " who am i? " she stepped out, towards damian, a devious grin on her lips, taunting. " does it really matter? " for what it was worth it, rio wasn't there to reap him, the kid seemed as resilient as bruce himself. " i know your father... and mother " that damned lazarus pit often made things more complicated than they needed to be. " you've seen me before, i almost had you, damina wayne" her hand reached out, fingernails black and sharp, deadly as rio herself.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

Damian’s eyes hardened as he stood his ground, every muscle primed for action. He didn’t flinch as he watched her step forward; her presence was unsettling, but not enough to break his focus. I know your father... and your mother. The words made Damian’s stomach tighten. It wasn’t as if his parents ran in the same circles - at least, not the same visible ones. But then again, he himself was living proof that nothing in his world was ever quite as it seemed. “I don’t remember you,” he said flatly, tone edged with distrust. “But people who speak in riddles and shadows usually aren’t worth remembering.”

His gaze swept over her; those too-sharp fingernails, the grin that didn’t quite reach her eyes, the way the alley itself seemed to recoil from her presence. There was something wrong here. Ancient. Familiar in a way that made his blood itch, but not enough to pull a memory from the void. “You say you know my parents.” A bitter smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Congratulations. That narrows you down to half the psychotic underworld.” He shifted his stance subtly - weight forward, hand near a concealed blade. “If you ‘almost had me,’ you should’ve finished the job. Because you're not going to get another chance” @hceroiscms

[fractured--spirits]

cleo stopped in her tracks like a deer in the headlights as selina turned in her direction. she quickly raised out of the almost crouched position she had been in and shook her head. "huh?" her gaze fell to the necklace and she could barely hide the disappointment on her face. "no. i was here for something totally else," she recovered quickly as she placed her hands on her hips. "most rich people make it easy i think it's like a game to some of them." cat and mouse or something like that. "how did you get in and out of there so fast anyway? i didn't even know anyone else was here?!" cleo sighed as she slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

Selina’s lips curled into an amused smile as she watched Cleo fumble for an explanation. The disappointment was all too obvious, but Selina didn’t push it. Exuding an effortless confidence, she crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall behind her. “Totally else, huh?” she teased, her voice light but laced with knowing. “Well, don’t let me stand in the way of your grand plans.” She gave Cleo a slow once-over, making it clear that she saw right through the half-baked story. Her eyes twinkled as she let the silence hang for a beat before continuing. “Rich people, though? They almost seem to want to be robbed. Keeps things interesting. They're all freaks like that.”

She pushed off the wall, gliding closer to Cleo with an almost predatory grace. “How did I get in and out so fast?” she purred, her voice smooth and teasing as she closed the distance. Her surprise was almost too obvious, but Selina remained unfazed, her cool confidence unshaken."Well, darling, experience," she replied with a soft laugh, letting the word linger in the air, dripping with effortless confidence. "I’m hardly new to this game, you know." @fractured--spirits

[spaceaito]

Damian trying to do the cat shadow trend.

[brvkencrwn]

jason should’ve counted on the smaller wayne being out and about at night, stalking the streets of gotham, presumably taking the whole guardian thing just a little too seriously. it was a bunch of bullshit, if you asked him ; the government were only ever out to help themselves, and vigilantes like red hood got a hell of a lot more shit done, and quicker, than the sanctioned superheroes. but their makeshift screwup of a family had never agreed on anything before, and far be it for them to start now.

“ what ? a guy can’t come and pay a visit to his little brother anymore ? ” the question asked with a feigned upset, evident enough by the smirk that followed, dark eyes glinting with the briefest hint of amusement. “ glare at me any harder and my head might burst. and it’d be a bitch to get it all out of this helmet, trust me. ”

[flyhxghfalldeep]

"Little brother? Really?" Damian scoffed, his arms folding tightly over his chest, his expression one of incredulity. "How adorable. What’s next? A sleepover? Maybe we can braid each other’s hair while we’re at it." His voice was dripping with sarcasm, but beneath it, there was a flicker of something more; annoyance, frustration, the kind of irritation that came from being baited by someone who knew exactly what buttons to push. He knew Jason was trying to get under his skin, and while he was no stranger to the tactic, that didn’t make it any less effective. His jaw clenched, but he didn't let the anger fully take hold. He didn’t have the patience for this right now.

Damian leaned in just a little, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "If you're going to keep trying to get a rise out of me, Jason," he said with a bite, "just know that there’d be a lot less to clean out of that helmet of yours than you think." His tone was cold, controlled - but there was a dangerous edge to it, as if he was offering a warning, not a joke. @brvkencrwn

[fractured--spirits]

closed starter for @flyhxghfalldeep

his relationship with damian had never been an easy one. tim was used to being the middle child in the group by now, basically stuck between two brothers who had probably both thrown a knife at his head at least once if he really stopped to think about it. everything seemed to be different now. it was weird. it made him itchy. maybe he'd let damian get a good couple swings in if this shit ever solved itself just to right something in the universe. "you hear anything weird lately? i feel like it's been..." tim paused and rubbed his forehead before he let out a huff. "well. not loud lately."

[flyhxghfalldeep]

Damian’s eyes glinted with a familiar sharpness, but there was something softer lurking beneath the surface as he glanced at Tim. "Your way with words is earth-shattering, you know," he murmured, his voice a mix of biting sarcasm and something more understated - almost thoughtful. He turned to face him fully, the silence stretching between them, thick with unspoken tension. His gaze flicked over Tim, pausing just long enough to notice the weight of exhaustion clinging to him. It was deeper this time, almost tangible.

Damian’s posture shifted subtly, his usual brashness softening just for a moment. “It has been quieter...” He let the words linger, his tone flat but with a slight edge, as though trying to make sense of it himself. His stance relaxed, but the guard was still there, lingering just under the surface, keeping him distant. "It's unsettling" he added with a slow exhale. "We both know that silence in Gotham is never good news" @fractured--spirits

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @sepulchrals

Selina stepped out of the bodega, a carton of milk tucked beneath her arm, when a figure suddenly appeared in her path. She barely had time to react before their bodies collided with a soft, jarring thud. "Hey, watch where you're going," she snapped, the irritation clear in her voice as she straightened up. She studied the stranger, her eyes narrowing as she met theirs. The face wasn’t familiar, but something about it made her certain it wasn’t one she’d forget anytime soon.

Her lips curved into a slow, predatory smile; her interest piqued, despite herself. "First time in Gotham, or just that unlucky?" Selina asked, her tone deceptively light, but the sharpness lurking underneath was unmistakable - like a lioness sizing up her next meal. Selina wasn’t in the habit of offering second chances, but this was Gotham, and a new face meant potential. For now, she’d let the stranger stay in her orbit. Just long enough to see what they were really made of.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @brokenbeauties

The streets of Gotham buzzed with their usual chaos, but Selina moved through the crowd with a quiet, calculated elegance. Her heels clicked sharply against the pavement, each step measured and deliberate. The sleek, tailored dress she wore was an often-overlooked weapon in her arsenal, but Selina knew how to use it masterfully. Though she wasn't here for theft, she knew all too well that information could be just as priceless as the rarest jewels - and often far more enjoyable to keep.

Her eyes swept the crowd, scanning for familiar faces - or, preferably, new ones that might prove more intriguing. Adjusting the strap of her bag, she made her way toward a nearby bar for a drink, when her gaze landed on someone seated alone by the window. A familiar face. Well, this could be interesting, she thought, stepping forward.

"Mind if I join?" she asked, her voice carrying a subtle curiosity, though her expression remained a carefully crafted mask.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @brokenbeauties

“I know you’re hovering back there,” Damian muttered, not bothering to lift the arm draped over his face. He lay sprawled across the sofa, a book resting open on his chest, its words long forgotten. Maybe Bruce thought he was asleep, but Damian had never felt less at peace. Restless didn’t even begin to cover it. Gotham was quiet - too quiet. The kind of stillness that only harboured the sense that something awful was shifting beneath the surface, just out of sight. He would’ve been out patrolling by now if Barbara hadn’t rather forcefully insisted he take the night off. This isn't healthy, she’d said. You need to clear your head for a few hours. Easier said than done.

Damian shifted slightly, the leather of the couch creaking beneath him, but didn’t move the arm from his face. Rest was a luxury he’d never learned to trust, and wasn't sure that he was built for. “Alright, enough lurking.” He shifted again, just enough to peek through a squinted eye, making sure Bruce was still there. “What is it? I’m not really into guessing games, you know.” Not entirely true, but when Damian was tired, he was more irritable than usual - which was saying something - and he’d much rather just get to the point already.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @rvinedbloom

“Ugh” Selina wrinkled her nose as she eased down onto the edge of the rooftop, melting into the shadows like smoke. Gotham had a very particular scent after the rain; wet brick, motor oil, cigarette smoke, and desperation baked into the pavement. It wasn’t pleasant, exactly. But it was familiar. And in Gotham, familiar meant home. She couldn’t complain too much. Tonight was shaping up to be the most interesting one she’d had in weeks.

Below, a handful of faceless suits were hauling crates into one of Falcone’s old stash houses - crates she fully intended to liberate before sunrise. She watched with practiced patience, every muscle coiled, ready to strike the moment that opportunity presented itself. Then, a flicker in the corner of her eye. Too large to be an animal, too smooth to be random. Something, or someone, was there.

"Tell me you're not here to monologue about justice."

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @rvinedbloom

"You can come up here if you want, but I'm not sharing," Damian muttered, already perched on the balcony ledge like he belonged there. As if Stephanie had ever waited for his permission to go anywhere. This spot was his quiet refuge when the manor got too loud - when everything got too loud. There was something about being high above it all, watching the world in miniature, that made the chaos inside him feel smaller too. He and Alfred had spent the evening baking - something Damian always insisted was a chore, yet he never missed it, showing up each time with quiet eagerness. Now, as a result, he sat nibbling idly on a slightly lopsided cinnamon roll.

"I didn’t think Gotham could get any weirder, but ever since that new ruling, everything’s just…off," Damian huffed, unable to find a better word. Change had never sat well with him, and this one was no exception. "What're you doing out here, anyways?"

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @hceroiscms

The wind pulled at his cape as Damian trailed his target, keeping just enough distance to remain unseen. A fleeting flash of green in the shadows had caught his eye - familiar, deliberate.

Mother.

The thought struck him with an unexpected weight, stirring something he couldn’t quite name. It had been years since he’d walked away from the League of Assassins, yet its shadow clung to him like a second skin. Now, the figure was approaching the end of a narrow alley - one Damian knew led nowhere. A dead end. And he was done waiting.

He dropped soundlessly to the ground, ready to demand why she was here - only to stop short as she turned. It wasn’t his mother. Just a stranger, cloaked in shadow, moving with the same effortless grace - like silk weaving through darkness. Familiar, but entirely unknown.

"Who are you?"

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @hceroiscms

"Zatanna Zatarra... now that’s interesting," Selina murmured, idly stirring her drink with the tip of her straw. It wasn’t that she found it strange to see Zatanna in a bar—far from it. Their paths had a way of intersecting, usually at the most inconvenient times, and tonight seemed to be no different. She tilted her head slightly, a knowing glint in her eyes. "I’m not really the type who believes in coincidences," she said, nodding toward the empty stool beside her in invitation. "So, what brings you here tonight?"

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @brvkencrwn

"Okay - Why is there always an angsty teen in my living room?" Selina asked, exasperated. Admittedly, it was usually one of Bruce's strays that she stumbled upon but still, she was seriously going to have to move. And besides, a Kent was far too close to a Wayne for her comfort. Not that she avoiding Bruce, obviously. "Go on then. You must want something pretty badly if you've come to me" She had expensive tastes, after all.

[flyhxghfalldeep]

closed starter for @brvkencrwn

Feather-light, Damian’s boots touched the rooftop with barely a whisper, their impact drowned out by the steady hum of Gotham’s nightlife. As the day’s businesses shuttered and the streets filled with families hurrying home, Gotham’s pulse remained constant. The city was alive—its heart beating with the promise of safety, a false sense of security built on the fleeting trust in authorities who had never earned it. Where were they when the real danger came knocking? Always too late.

Damian’s sharp green eyes scanned the crowds below with practiced precision, his breath steady and visible in the cool evening air. It was an effortless focus—no distractions, no surprises. The night was going according to plan, so perfectly in fact, that he couldn’t even recall preparing for his patrol. Normally, that would have satisfied him; he thrived on efficiency. But tonight, that unnatural sense of routine left a hollow pit in his stomach. Everything was going too well. And when that happened, it meant something would inevitably go wrong.

His musings were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of heavy footsteps climbing the fire escape. Instinctively, Damian’s hand shifted toward the hilt of his sword, his body tensing as the muscles in his neck tightened. But then, a familiar flash of red cut through the shadows.

Jason.

Damian sighed, exasperation flickering across his face. "What are you doing here?" he grumbled, irritation bubbling beneath his cool exterior. He cursed himself internally for assuming danger when the most predictable thing in Gotham was always Jason’s inevitable appearance. He did have to give it to him, though. It was always when he was least expecting it.