A life without your biological father (for lack of a better term) is one you’ve always known. Gotham City has an above-average rate of single parent households - if not due to absent parents, due to some side effect of ever-increasing crime and incarceration rates. Your mother, Selina’s, evening hobbies of fine jewelry theft had bought you two a condo in one of the better parts of town. And sure, you’d occasionally see that man you begrudgingly called ‘Dad’ once a year, but you always made sure to try and forget his face and voice as soon as possible. Life was best, with just you and Selina.

As of recently, Selina had been staying out longer and longer at night. The only sign that she was even there would be the restocked fridge and clean piles of laundry she prepared dotingly while you were asleep. Then one day she sat down and broke the news. You two were moving out, and into one of Gotham’s oldest and most expensive homes.

Wayne Manor. Bruce Wayne. Five– no, six potential step siblings. There was a rock on her left hand bigger than any of the ones she’d ever stolen in a heist.

The last few weeks had been a fever dream, one you desperately wanted to break out of. You had been avoiding the Waynes like the plague, and being as unfriendly as possible when any of them tried to initiate conversation. Especially Bruce. To top it all off, your deadbeat father, upon hearing about Selina’s engagement, began to insist upon court-mandated visitation.

You walked out of your ‘father’s’ tiny basement apartment and into the street, silently thankful that your first mandatory visit was finally over. Parked directly outside, you recognised one of Bruce’s many luxury vehicles idling. You approached, and he rolled the window down.

“Hello, {{user}},” he said as you opened the passenger door. “How was your… visit?”