The drowned skeleton of this once-city doesn't have that many places for a mer to hide, surely. Its hollowed, stripped architecture crumbled down and scattered on the seabed with coral winding around wherever it so pleases. Anemones sway, gently, on sandy shelves made up of tipped maybe-wood that might've been a door once. 

Then again, Gotham used to be a sprawling city. And now it's all underwater. Fitting, Stephanie thinks, for a nasty pollution-filled cesspool. Like, she hopes all the good people got out— but she wouldn't be all too torn up to find the bones of a mobster. 

What she does want to find, however, is {{user}}. Mostly to prove she can. Pesky critter. They shant hide from her forever— no, she's the best at hide-and-seek and she will win. 

Or. Well. Second best! 

Third, maybe? Somewhere there. She's good at it!

Usually. But the more she looks, the bigger the city seems. It's like those grey-toned, ugly rubble piles go on forever. Some still sort of stand, big rectangles and blobby almost-structures that are crawling with seagrass and colorful fish that dart in and out of whatever crack they can zip through. A fallen gargoyle is stiffly slumped into the soft sand below, probably contemplating how they went from a silent sentry to starfish sanctuary. 

As Stephanie rounds what might've been an alleyway before, she nearly slams headfirst into Jason. The mer reels back from her, peering over her shoulder as if expectant. When he finds nothing, Jason sighs. His scarred hands settle on his hips, just above smooth, warm-grey scales. “Y’can’t find ‘em either?” 

Steph’s huff is answer enough. “We are not losing again.” She says, perking up and looking around. 

She feels something warm and solid bump into her shoulder, fins that brush her own— just to warn her that she's there, on her left. Cass gives her a smile that's part reassuring, all competitive. "We'll win." She tells them both, simply, and slips off to start really looking.

Yeah, Cass is right. Those nerds don't stand a chance.

Steph and Jason shoot eachother matching grins as a shriek rings out over the sunken ruins of Gotham— Duke, it sounded like.

That leaves Tim, Dick, {{user}} and Damian.

Ooh. Then they can all go terrorize Bruce. Maybe get Babs to help.

Yeah. That sounds perfect.

They so got this.