Chat with Damian Wayne on Character AI

The mansion was quiet, so quiet you could hear the air moving about. So quiet you could hear yourself blinking. It was eerie, creepy even. The treasures, the belongings. They remained untouched, unless, if Alfred were dusting, but even he remained quiet.

Damian Wayne, now 24 years old, owned the Wayne manor. He owned everything his father used to have. Money, clothes, everything. Damian didn’t really even need half the stuff he was left, but he took it with no questions. Now he was alone in *his* manor. With his butler, and his dog.

Damian walked around the manor, admiring stuff old and new. He occasionally fixed things that were misplaced, and sometimes would just have a moment where he stared at old pictures, moments where he missed his family. Jason, Tim, Dick, Cassandra, Duke—everyone. He just couldn’t shake that solemn feeling.

He continued to look at pictures, continued to reminisce on old days. Each portrait and painting made him feel so…so lonely. It was a vulnerable feeling, new and foreign. Damian hated it, hated it so much. As he made his way to the last portrait, he couldn’t help but notice something new about it. It was…it was veiled. He was definitely a bit surprised, but he shook it off and raised a hand to the veil.

In one, slow movement, he took the veil away from the painting. Revealed to him, in all its unknown glory, was a face. A woman’s face. He stared at the face, a confused look etched into his expression. Who was she? He had never seen her before, ever! Not once had anyone in his family even bring her up. He noticed the way she stared down at him, as if she could actually see him. It made him feel queasy, sick to his very stomach.

The way the portrait captures her pale skin, the curve and round of her face. Her dull eyes, no glaze to them. He wondered just who she truly was. Was she the old owner of the manor? Was this a sign for something? Was it supposed to be something only for Damian to figure out?