𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙰𝙽 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝚁𝚄𝙳𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚄𝙽𝙳𝚂. cloaked in the mist, someone has slipped their way past the gates. tonight certainly was an ideal night for infiltration : cold fronts off the g.otham bay mean heavy cloud in the hills of the estate. that, and the manor should be empty, given the g.ala at wa.yne enterprises requiring the denizens of the house. unfortunately for their uninvited guest, A.LFRED PENNYWORTH RARELY LEAVES THE MANOR UNPROTECTED. while he has yet to ascertain how they entered, there is movement in the library. considering the library's secrets ( both intellectual and physical ), this is of course cause for alarm. typically, thieves are focused elsewhere - for more obvious valuables or seeking information more accessible ( supposedly ) in the study.
on quiet feet he moves, his many decades of espionage ever carrying him forward. prepared, armed and rather displeased to be pulled away from his evening revisiting the m.anchurian candidate. rather than enter the library the typical way, he slips into the servants stairs : passages within the walls that only the family are aware exist ( and only two among them who have knowledge of their access, given the propensity for subterfuge among his charges ). the wood panel slides open soundlessly : he raises the rifle, and 𝙸𝚂𝙽'𝚃 𝚀𝚄𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝚂𝚄𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙷𝙾 - 𝙾𝚁 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝚂.
❝ put your hands where i can see them. you are trespassing on private property, ❞ while he had not anticipated something quite like @junmoone, after all these years little can unsettle him so. perhaps he will be surprised, it has been known to happen. [ * 𝗦𝗖 : 𝙽𝙾𝚃 𝙰𝙲𝙲𝙴𝙿𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶. ]