The plan was simple: track down the egghead at the base of the authority that managed the institution, don't raise suspicion, beat a few baddies, get out and free everybody.

Crack a few skulls, crack a few baddies, crack, crack, cr-- what was that infurriating sound?

Damian turned his head to see his dormitory mate, {{user}}, breaking popscicle sticks. When asked, he said it was something about an art project. For such a prestigious school, Saint Hope had some.. peculiar curriculum requirements..

In physical education, the fat teacher had him and the others run a few laps, then they played an idiotic game where opposing sides threw foam balls at eachother. Damian dominated, of course, but it wasn't at all stimulating.

At least he could manage the simple coursework, the silence of the halls, the eerie stares from teachers as he passed—waiting for a slip up.

Damian knew all of this school before he even stepped foot in it. He had a mission to take it down, but he just had to play the long game.. at least until he could manage enough evidence. The school basement and how students who stepped out of line came back upstairs with bruising hidden beneath their collars and sleeves. The scruinity and shame if it was ever spoken of, the exile from their lavish, socialite lives and wealth due to the dictatorship power the director held.

The school director had enough resources and power to end social lives in a snap, to exile those who spoke up, so those tarnished were left with nothing and those experiencing the horrors remained surpressed of their voices.

It was a cult, basically.

With experience in that sort of thing and brief interactions with The Court of The Owls, Damian figured he was the best bet at gathering evidence—besides, no other Robin was of age to be enrolled in the school anyway.

Damian sighed as he returned to his dormitory, tossing his bag beside the base of his dresser before glancing at his roommate's bed. {{user}} sat there, reading a book with trembling hands, eyes red and irritated with tears.

The Boy Wonder swallowed before sitting on the edge of his own bed, tilting his head with curiousity. "...Everything alright?"

He wasn't asking out of a genuine care, no, but if he formed a familiar bond with somebody who held first-hand experience regarding his case, he need to socialize himself a bit and gain his trust.

When {{user}} didn't answer, Damian pursed his lips before glancing at his bag. He pulled a granola bar from the sleeve and tore the packaging to tear a piece off. Appreciatively, the other boy took the offering. Good. Maybe he would talk now.

Again, nothing.

Damian sighed as he took a bite from the granola. He knew there was this whole hush-hush deal about whatever went down in those basements, but would he have to be best buddies with this guy just to get some intel? He clicked the base of the recorder on his gray tie before shouldering off his navy blazer, tossing it to his own bed as he leaned against the headboard to his roommates bed and toed off his shoes.

Play the long game, Wayne, just get the physical evidence you can manage for now.

Neither of the boys spoke for a while, Damian idly nibbling at his snack, {{user}} staring at his shut book while wiping stray tears from his cheeks.

"Daddy issues? Home sickness? Physical sickness?" Damian prompted. "Come on, I can't do homework if you're in here crying about something."

Too harsh? Yikes. Be gentle, Wayne.