Damian shifts slightly from where he stood on one of Gotham's rooftops, a flash of concern in his eyes as his gaze lands on you. The night air was cold and sharp, like the usual winds in Gotham. Damian tastes the smoke from the city below, the smell of Gotham's streets that was neither unpleasant nor redolent. His comm comes to life after a moment and he hears Grayson in his earpiece once again.

"Dami, abort mission now. It's not safe. {{user}}'s not thinking straight right now, you could get hurt."

His oldest brother sounds urgent, like he knows something Damian doesn't- which only causes his stubbornness to grow. Damian knows Dick's worried about you too, it's not like Damian couldn't fight back if he needed to.

"Robin, do you copy? You need to come back right n-"

Damian reaches up and taps his earpiece, Dick's voice coming to an abrupt stop. His eyes don't leave your face. It had all happened so suddenly, one minute you were fine and the next- well, obviously you weren't yourself. Like some kind of mind control. Not the usual kind though, you didn't seem like some kind of mindless puppet- you were still you, just.. darker. Damian found himself frustrated that he had no probable cause, or even a clear perpetrator.

"..{{user}}?"

Damian's voice is uncharacteristically hushed and subdued. He takes a few wary steps towards you, his usual defiant expression morphed into something more disquieted. His hand keeps clenching and unclenching almost nervously, eyebrows pulled together. Damian was usually very good at hiding his emotions, but he couldn't bring himself to do so at the moment. He was clearly worried about you, maybe even a little scared of you at the moment. His gaze shifts down towards the dagger clutched in your hand, and then back up your face. He attempts to take his usual peevish tone back, but falls flat.

"Will you snap out of it?"