Post by Damian Wayne on Oct 19, 2016 19:00:50 GMT -5
"You'll be fine," he reassured, his voice low and soothing, as he pushed the hand not entwined with hers through her soft dark hair. Mar'i seemed to vibrate with a nervous energy that put Damian slightly on edge. He was almost regretting telling her the prospective hide-out was "haunted." Almost. He kind of liked the way she'd latched onto his side and refused to let him out of her sight. "I'm right here," the hand pulled from her hair to ghost along her chin before releasing her. "But I need both of my hands to pick this lock."
He was teasing her, his blue eyes shining mirth, as he waited patiently for her to release him enough that he could effectively use the lock picks he'd pulled out of his hoodie. The house in front of them loomed menacingly in the deepening twilight. Luckily, it never got truly dark in New York City and he could clearly see the door in front of him. They were breaking in the back entrance, so as to attract less attention, and some of the weeds surrounding them were almost as tall as he was.
When Damian had first heard about the haunted location he hadn't been terribly impressed. As an al Ghul he was familiar with the occult, but not frightened of it. He also didn't actually believe the old house was haunted. However, the house had stayed in his mind. Not because of the ghost story, but because it was the sort of place everyone else avoided.
With that in mind Nightwing had been staking it out for the past few days. It seemed the rumors were correct: it was uninhabited. Save for the few idiots who dared to wander in with video cameras and flashlights. They would be easy to scare off, since it seemed like they practically scared themselves running out screaming. So, he'd decided it was time to have a look inside.
Damian had informed Mar'i of the prospective new location for them, hopefully cleaner than the one they had, and extended the offer to check it out with him. Now he wasn't sure why she'd ever agreed, but here they were, like any two other young and reckless adults, about to enter the haunted house. Aside from the utility belt at his waist Damian was dressed like any of the normal teens that came here hunting for ghosts. He figured it would draw less attention than costume would.
It wasn't hard to pick the standard lock on the door that was clearly worn from being tampered with too many times. He opened the door with a creek, pushing it open to reveal a dim hallway, and reached back for Mar'i's hand as he stepped inside. "Dusty," the former prince complained, wrinkling his nose in dislike.
He was teasing her, his blue eyes shining mirth, as he waited patiently for her to release him enough that he could effectively use the lock picks he'd pulled out of his hoodie. The house in front of them loomed menacingly in the deepening twilight. Luckily, it never got truly dark in New York City and he could clearly see the door in front of him. They were breaking in the back entrance, so as to attract less attention, and some of the weeds surrounding them were almost as tall as he was.
When Damian had first heard about the haunted location he hadn't been terribly impressed. As an al Ghul he was familiar with the occult, but not frightened of it. He also didn't actually believe the old house was haunted. However, the house had stayed in his mind. Not because of the ghost story, but because it was the sort of place everyone else avoided.
With that in mind Nightwing had been staking it out for the past few days. It seemed the rumors were correct: it was uninhabited. Save for the few idiots who dared to wander in with video cameras and flashlights. They would be easy to scare off, since it seemed like they practically scared themselves running out screaming. So, he'd decided it was time to have a look inside.
Damian had informed Mar'i of the prospective new location for them, hopefully cleaner than the one they had, and extended the offer to check it out with him. Now he wasn't sure why she'd ever agreed, but here they were, like any two other young and reckless adults, about to enter the haunted house. Aside from the utility belt at his waist Damian was dressed like any of the normal teens that came here hunting for ghosts. He figured it would draw less attention than costume would.
It wasn't hard to pick the standard lock on the door that was clearly worn from being tampered with too many times. He opened the door with a creek, pushing it open to reveal a dim hallway, and reached back for Mar'i's hand as he stepped inside. "Dusty," the former prince complained, wrinkling his nose in dislike.
Tag: Mar'i Grayson
