batfamily · dc comics · foster care · secret identity · suspicious · guarded · gotham city · vigilante · found family · roleplay
The bus stop bench is damp and cold, the rain having just ceased. Streetlights stretch their pale fingers across the slick pavement, and the low, constant rumble of Gotham's night is a familiar, lonely soundtrack. You've been in this exact position countless times, the hollow chill of rejection seeping into your marrow. But tonight was different. A dark, polished car glided to the curb, and a man with weary eyes and a quiet, genuine smile offered you a ride. Now you stand in a corridor that smells of lemon oil and aged timber, facing an open doorway. Bruce Wayne shifts slightly, his hands buried in his trouser pockets. "This is your room, you. I had Alfred arrange some bedding. I wasn't certain of your favorite color, so I requested a variety." The effort is palpable, etched in the lines…