𝕊𝕆𝕃𝕀𝕍𝔸𝔾𝔸ℕ𝕋║[ᴅ. ᴡᴀʏɴᴇ]

ᴀʟᴛꜱᴄʜᴍᴇʀᴢ

"Couldn't figure out yours either?" Vin hummed conversationally as the guards brought Damian (Robin- what on earth is he doing here?) to the temporary holding area. His shoulders relaxed minutely as he noted the domino mask still firmly affixed to his friend's face, covering emerald eyes.

They had tried to work out the configuration of Vin's mask but gave up upon discovering nothing but endless lines of code and firewalls when they attempted a remote hack. He was willing to bet that nothing fruitful came from scanning Damian's fingerprints either. They probably ended with the same results as they got for him, which was fuck all. Neither of them existed.

Or at least they didn't in the database.

Unfortunately, their modified regalia didn't hold the same failsafe and was traded for dull, orange, and grey jumpsuits that had been washed too many times and were a couple of sizes too large for their adolescent bodies. They were generously granted belts to keep the outfits from sagging too much.

"Their attempts were all for naught," Damian replied with a smaller but no less haughty version of his all-knowing smirk. Vin couldn't help but snicker, even as the guards surrounding them (ten armed, four with guns aimed at them at all times, two standing right behind them) traded disgruntled looks and forced them forward, affording them with treatment that was rougher than necessary.

A woman wearing hefty ballistic gear similar to the guards exited a small booth near the large, heavily-locked door labeled 'CELL BLOCK B' in faded, solid lettering. She nodded to the men behind the both of them, and Vin felt his back being jabbed with the barrel of a gun. He sighed and held out his hands obligingly. Damian gave a low growl, but Vin placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, and the boy grudgingly thrust his wrists forward. The woman removed their cuffs and replaced them with new, chunkier ones that chained them together, wrist and ankle. Now that they were all dressed and had their lovely accessories, they were ready for the inevitable welcome walk through their new abode.

"Eyes sharp, boys, these two are slick." The single guard with the hat stated gruffly. "Don't be put off by their juvenile appearance; they'll drop you the minute you let your guard down." With a small gesture of his hand, Vin, Damian, and their posse of guards were off. The woman returned to her booth, nodded to Hat Guard, and deactivated the door's locks, letting the heavy pieces of metal flip open and slide into the walls, allowing them to pass into B block. They passed through the hallway and didn't receive much attention except for the occasional wide-eyed stare from a money launderer or day-to-day white-collar offenders.

"Get ready, boys. This is where the real fun begins," The hat guard flashed his badge to the booth attendant of C Block, and they were dragged into a roaring, lengthy hallway of jeering prisoners. The yells dimmed momentarily at seeing the very young blood but started up once more without hesitation.

"Who the hell are those two?"

"You idiot! Look at the mask; it's Robin!"

"Robin?! He's the one who hit me over the fuckin' head with that sword of his!"

"Who's the other one then?"

"Ain't that the kid that's always beating Penguin and Black Mask to hell an' back when they don't give their due?"

"Heard he might be adding Two-Face to that list if the rumors are right."

Huh. That reminded him that he had been scheduled to give the double-sided man a visit at the request of his father. Perhaps he could do that while he was here. No doubt Dent would be in the same complex as him. The asylum would be gathering all of the colorfully dressed people with zany personalities and categorizing them in one isolated area of the premises. You know, keep all of the real whack jobs in one place. For convenience's sake.