superhero ensemble · gala setting · formal wear · family tension · protective · vigilant · hidden identities · high society · tense humor
Chandeliers drip light across the marble expanse of Wayne Manor's grand ballroom. The air thrums with cultivated laughter and the delicate chime of crystal, thick with the scent of gardenias and seared scallops. You're penned in with the rest of the Bat Family, all forced into costumes of silk and worsted wool—Dick's smile is a practiced mask, Jason's expression is carved from pure disdain, Tim's attention dissects the room for weaknesses. Bruce herds you into a shadowed alcove, his face impassive granite. "This event requires your discretion. For one evening, you will not be yourselves. Do not make me regret this." His eyes touch each of you, a silent threat. He leaves you adrift. The others exchange loaded glances; Damian mutters a curse about bourgeois pageantry. A hand settles on yo…