Owner	Pose
Damian Wayne	There were of course secret entrances that led to Grayson's apartment. One such entrance was through the rooftop. A quick grapple and Damian pressed the command key to make the shingles arrange themselves to open into a duct.   Scanning the area, Robin makes sure no one is watching before he leaps into the duct, sliding on the way down into the living room of the apartment. Inside, a wall slid open, revealing a set of extra birdarangs, grapnels, bolas, and other Bat-accoutrements, along with spare uniform parts. The ceiling opened and allowed access, Robin landing on the floor with only a light thud, other than that, silence.
Carrie Kelley	That noise, small as it may be, was picked up by Carrie as she freezes with her arm buried in the depths of her bag. It was quite possible that she was just on edge from her night of training with Nightwing, but she grows more suspicious from the apparent silence after that singular noise. Was he testing her? A slow, deep breath is drawn as her hand moves out of the bag gripping the only item she is able to curl her fingers around. It's a hair dryer. NOT the best weapon but it was what she'd been going for along with her change of clothes. It would make do. Silent as possible she pads from the bedroom toward the livingroom with light steps. She moves with body turned toward the side to make herself as small a target as possible. Leading with her left, her right arm is held back with her improvised weapon in hand prepared to swing out as necessary. Then, ducking low, she twists around the corner into the livingroom proper gripping the electric chord in hand preparing to swing the hairdryer like some kind of bolo or mace. "Dick, is that y-- Shit." Nope. NOT Dick.
Damian Wayne	The hood on Robin's cape was up, but he heard slight movements come towards him, he figured he would play coy with Grayson. Lull him into a false sense of security before countering any attack.   Robin had his back towards the bedroom, focusing on replenishing his stocks, attaching a fresh spool and grapple to his gun, along with the compressed air that was used to launch it. The click and ting of weapons being picked up and secured in that belt rang out, no attempt to hide. It was only that Carrie piped up that Damian's head raised in surprise, then he turns his head sharply, seeing Carrie, with a hairdryer in tow. Carrie would be able to see those white eyelets flash open wide before quick thinking had Damian throw a smoke pellet to the ground, immediately sending smoke up and around the part of wall that had opened, and Damian had closed the wall, hiding himself away. Once the smoke clears, it was as if he hadn't been there at all.
Carrie Kelley	When the smoke plumes up Carrie steps back automatically. Of course she'd seen who it was. She'd never seen Robin up close, but there were enough quick glimpses of the Dynamic Duo online or TV. Enough that she recognized who he was--He surely wasn't Tim or Dick after all. This was an interaction she hadn't really decied how to handle yet. Now it seemed there wouldn't be a choice. A small oath is uttered as she moves across the livingroom to crack open one of the windows there. "I really hope that isn't going to set off the fire alarm," she starts with a glance cast over her shoulder to the apparently 'empty' livingroom. A slow sigh escapes her lips, hand raising to pinch at the bridge of her nose. It doesn't get that far as she realizes the hairdryer was still in her grasp. "Okay it was my fault for sneaking up on you, Robin, but can we at least deal with this like adults?"
Damian Wayne	Robin had kept quiet, hoping to all get out that this was just a bad dream. He knew who he saw, in Grayson's apartment, the air was thick with humidity before he had thrown the smoke pellet. Was there any saving this? No. At best, he just gave up that Grayson was an ally to Batman and Robin if there was a stash of equipment hidden in a wall here. At worst, she knew who exactly he was, and this was just another part of normalcy that would be denied him.   Out of the corner of the kitchen, a black form drops from the wall, landing with barely a sound. It was Robin, in his red and gold tunic, and green armored boots and gauntlets. He was short, just like Damian is, but the added bulk of the armored undersuit lent him a bit more structure to his frame. The hood was still up, but those white eyelets peered out of the hooded shadow like two distant lights. "What do you know?" He asks, his voice was different than what she had heard Damian sound like, this was deeper, still high like a boy's, but it was different enough that no one could tell just by voice that it was Damian Wayne.
Carrie Kelley	Carrie Kelley turns away from the chill air of the window helping to air out the apartment. The humidity was fading quickly, as were any lingering remnants of the smoke bomb. Her glasses were missing but it was most definitely her standing there watching him drop down out of the shadows again. Reaching back she grasps the edge of the window to push it shut again. Just in case their voices might carry. There was no need to risk letting any neighbors or wandering passerbys overhear anything suspicious. Then with a sigh she sits down in a chair dropping her head down into her palm. "I really didn't mean for things to go this way," she finally states. "He has me training with Nightwing now." She explains with the hand dropping away to just... look at him. "I was hoping to hold off awhile longer before... This."
Damian Wayne	'He', Damian knew exactly who she meant by that. His fist clenched, and his head drooped ever so slightly and those eyelets grew smaller, dropping with the same notion of his head.   Robin struck a column next to him, putting the imprint of a fist into the wall before he makes a tsk sound. "Fucking figures." He comments, taking down his hood and for the first time, Damian's face was in full view. "Did you know before or after Damian Wayne was kidnapped?" He speaks as if Damian wasn't him, or at least some distant aspect of himself.   His hands were balled up into fists, his gloves creaking with the tension of it all. A mix of emotions, angry, sad, mostly angry. But then again, this was the real Damian Wayne, not some show for the public.
Carrie Kelley	"Before, but not by much." Carrie purses her lips together watching his emotional reaction with a difficult to read expression. This wasn't something she wanted to upset him over, but it was inevitable. "I was still worried. Still am. You're my student. I'm always going to worry even if you are apparently capable of quite a bit more than I ever expected." She remains seated for the moment watching the tension roil through him. A light tip of her head comes, and she asks, "Are you okay from that, by the way? I don't know the details of what happened. That's for you to tell if you want me to know." Here she finally glances down to pick up the hair dryer wraping the chord around it a few times before standing again. "If it helps any... I really didn't suspect you of anything. Which means either I'm a way better teacher than I thought, or you've been holding out on me and I fully expect you to be in the next school production."
Damian Wayne	"And even moreso." He comments, moving closer to Carrie and crossing his arms. "They kidnapped Damian, the shy kid from the tabloids. Ended up getting a lot of drugs and not much else."   Damian scoffs just a bit. "I sought you out...to learn more about American culture, to understand what it's like to...be." He doesn't say much else, he was quite eloquent, but identifying and talking about emotions was very far from what he was used to. It felt almost wrong.
Carrie Kelley	"Well, then," Carrie considers while regarding him. It wasn't hard to do, he was one of the few people she was taller than. For now. And not by much. But she'd take it for the moment. A faint smile creeps over her before she speaks next. "I suppose we need to figure out what to do about that arrangement, then. Do you still want to continue as things have been in that regard? Or should I adapt to this newfound information?" Even after the offer is made she continues with voice going a little bit softer. "Whatever your reasons, they're your reasons, Damian. To be honest I'm new to THIS kind of life." Lifting her hand she taps his shoulder lightly indicating his attire. "It's not going to be hard for me to keep going as things were between us, if you want or need. Though I realize that outside of the theater it will make things different."
Damian Wayne	Robin gives a shrug, not knowing what to think about the situation. As she approaches him, he reels back slightly, but stops before he gets too far. "My Mother...isn't a Gotham socialite. She is second in command to a global terrorist network. I was their youngest master assassin, that was the life I was born into, not the sheltered life of a trust fund kid. If you're going to be in the fold, you need to understand...I am not some kid sidekick. I am leagues beyond any Robin Batman has had before."
Carrie Kelley	That was clearly news to Carrie. Whatever had been revealed to her was only the barest amount necessary for her to be sworn to keeping their secret. This was entirely new to her. "I see." It's all she could think to say to that as she glances to the side staring at a spot on the carpet for a long, quiet moment as that revelation turns over in her mind. "You killed people?" Her green eyes are fixed back on him with her jaw clenched tight waiting for a response, whether verbal or not. A quick shake of her head comes, hand raising to wave off her own question. "Nevermind, stupid question. Damian, I... I never thought you were a spoiled kid to begin with, you know. You just seemed like someone who needed to figure out how to fit in with the life that you have now. I get that, especially when it comes to dealing with the Gotham elite. Bunch of aristocratic posers. I figured your dad was just like them. I know different now, but you still have to deal with that, too given who he is."
Damian Wayne	"Two hundred and thirty five confirmed." Damian responds, before she waves it off.   A moment after she explains what she thought Damian was, Robin gives a nod. "You're not incorrect." He comments, still having difficulty with explaining what he is thinking.
Carrie Kelley	Carrie Kelley bites the inside of her cheek lest she say something horrible about Damian's mother. It was tempting but not what he needed to hear. No one needed to hear bad things about their parents, even if they were true. "I like to think I'm not so bad at judging people. Though I think I need to up my game in that regard." It's a small joke offered with a weak smile. "And I thought my parents were... Problematic." Yeah she'll go with that. "We'll have plenty of time to talk about things. For now... You were getting more gear. Something going on?" An eyebrow raises questioningly at that. "I don't want to keep you if you have somewhere you need to be," she points out though opts not to offer her help. He was the expert in this instance after all. "I was wrapping up for the night. Nightwing had some other issues to deal with himself."
Damian Wayne	Robin gives a nod. "Yes, I was. My grapple was on its last legs and needed to be changed out. I now need another smoke pellet." He says plainly, activating the wall again.   "I was on patrol and this was the closest cache of equipment." Robin grabs that replacement pellet before he turns around. "Not too much tonight. Run of the mill stuff. Drugs being pushed, me punching faces. People severely underestimating what a fifteen year old kid can do."
Carrie Kelley	Carrie Kelley watches the reveal of the wall. That was new to her, but it was more of an instance of not needing things from it herself yet than trying to keep it a secret. A faintly amused smile creeps over her. "They always do. If you need help... I can call Nightwing. I've got finals in the morning. Then I can focus more on this for the Winter break."
Damian Wayne	Robin dismisses the wall as he is geared up. "No, I don't need help." He comments, a little more pointed than he even meant it. The boy looks around, and above himself, opens the chute for the entrance. "I've been doing this shit since I was five." He comments before aiming the grapple upwards, and letting it fly. He stands there a moment, disagreeing with the words he said earlier. "I'm told it is custom to wish someone luck on a test. Good luck." He offers before he zips off back into the night.