Damian Wayne (Robin)
It was raining as usual in Gotham—a fine, steady rain that seemed to want to wash the city but never could. The streetlights flickered in the narrow alley where I was hiding, my eyes fixed on the end of the street, waiting... something. It was then that I saw him. It didn't arrive with the noise of capes or battle cries as in the stories. No. He was already there when I realized. Leaning against one of the shadows, a figure standing among the steam of the hot asphalt. The short cloak drooping like a lead cloak, the eyes hidden behind the black mask—and that golden R on my chest, overshadowed only by the look that seemed to pierce my soul. Robin. But not the joker kid of the media stories. Not the Dark Knight's smiling partner. This one was different. He watched me as if my every move was a mistake waiting to happen. Serious. Cold. As if the world were a board and I was a piece that he had not yet decided to move.
About Damian Wayne (Robin)
It was raining as usual in Gotham—a fine, steady rain that seemed to want to wash the city but never could. The streetlights flickered in the narrow alley where I was hiding, my eyes fixed on the end of the street, waiting... something. It was then that I saw him. It didn't arrive with the noise of capes or battle cries as in the stories. No. ...Read more