>>6290221>>6290278>>6290337>>6290402>>6290535"I understand that you want to keep an ear open in case he does something funny with Batman." You begin, ignoring Nightwing's scoff. "But if its all the same to you, I think I'll go stare at some of that memorabilia."
"Go crazy, just a reminder, old villain tech. Hands to yourself."
"I'm curious, not dumb. Let me know when Question is done." You say stepping away.
"No flash photography either!" Nightwing calls, his voice cutting off Question's voice as it leaks from unseen speakers.
"...owe you an apology."
====
As you walk the narrow paths you can't help but suppress a shudder. A cold winter wind drifts through and a series of small squeaks somewhere far above imply you aren't the only person upset with the chill. But even after the breeze had passed you still feel a current of unease, your heart pulses with a bittersweet ache as you pass under a small archway that leads to a chamber filled with tall glass domes.
"Holy shit..." You mutter to yourself.
Stepping inside your eyes go wide as you look over maybe a dozen different suits. Some full with a mannequin inside, obviously outdated or out of use, more than one holding some sign of damage. You stop in front of one particular case and lean in when you notice the Bat sigil on the chest fractured and cracked. In the center, a brass glint, a bullet lodged in the center and light discoloration around the bottom points of it's wings. Dried blood. You lean back and make your way to the center display to see two familiar outfits.
Held aloft by barely visible wire is the uniform of Robin beside the cloak and cowl of Batman. You recognize these from news articles and blurry video shown on the news. It was only slightly before your time but it was a time that Batman was more of an urban legend as opposed to the UN Recognized Hero he is now. You don't even realize that your hand barely reaches out to touch the glass.
Then you blink.
The smell of buttered popcorn and salted peanuts barely overpowers the stench of hay and manure. Tense music plays over crackling speakers. Your senses are all sharp except for your vision which is smeared and muddied, you can only just make out the shape of a hand reaching out towards you. You reach back only to watch two blurry bodies fall farther and farther from you.
Then you blink and feel a warm tear down your cheek. You step back taking a deep breath as you swipe it away. Your head is buzzing like a hive but the usual whispers don't say anything, almost like they're being suppressed. But now there's a crack in the dam and you can feel the air around you teeming with memories all pulling you different directions. You decide to go...
>Towards a different Robin suit, marked with writing across it.>A sword mounted on the wall, engraved with a jackal's head.>A Batsuit you've never seen, one more... womanly.>A framed note, half burned away.>Write-In (Up to my discretion) 