OOC: Hello my dear RPing peeps. I'm back. And so start my posts as Babs again!
IC: Babs Gordon
I was correct to assume that Bruce won't be home. Not that I can tell really, by standing out here at the front steps of Wayne Manor watching as the cab that brought me here drives back through the large iron wrought gates and back to the city that is Gotham. The double doors in front of me are enormous and black mahogany. The wind picks up and I shiver in my jacket and shrug up my shoulders to block out the cold. There is no light visible through the windows I notice, as I turn my head to the side to peer through the full length windows.
I half expect the doors in front of me to open up to reveal a smiling Alfred, but then I remember. Expelling a dep sigh, I dig into the pockets of my jacket and my cold fingers wrap around the key.
Use it only when neccesary, Bruce had told me before placing the keys of his father's house into my waiting palm. Well, I think. This is neccesary. And better now than risk sneaking in when he's home.
I open the door and am greeted by vast darkness. The flick of the switch illuminates the gothic foyer of the manor and it strikes me for the first time about how long its been. A slight layer of dust is visibly settled on the maroon red of the carpet. I almost expect a trail of foot prints to be left behind my wake as I walk across towards the all too familiar grand father clock standing against the wall adorned with ornate french paintings.
The house is in serious need of care, I can't help but notice. Does Bruce even get out of the cave these days? The thought makes me feel guilty almost for leaving him behind. And Dick behind in the whirlwind that everything that fallen into at the time of my departure.
But it was neccesary, I tell myself. I had to stand on my own two feet. And for that I had to take a break from Gotham. Go back into the vastness of deserts and re-learn all I'd need...all I'd forgotten ever since I had gotten bound to that wheelchair.
The grand father clock stands before me now, ticking away time by seconds, minutes and hours. I stand for a moment observing the ornate rotating hands of it and each tick suddenly seems so resounding.The sound of each tick mingles furiously with the beating of my heart.And I realize.Its been too long. I've waited...somehwere deep dwon, perhaps even subconciously so...I work on opening the entrance which I had ceased to access until now. I pull back the wood of the clock systematically.
The entrance to the cave opens before me.