| Things Kept Hidden | Private w/Hopes~Wings

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    Her name was Clarissa, and she was a bright girl of 16. Sheltered all her life by her mother, she had a talent in academics and dabbled in sports, though she wasn't much of an aficionado. Though she never knew her real father, Clarissa considered mother's husband to be so. As far as she knew, David was that man for her. Until one day in the winter. Having been homeschooled her whole life, Clarissa was sitting at the dining table, working on a paper, when her mother came into the room. For a moment she had blinked. Frozen. Sensing that someone was there and that they had something to tell her. But what was it? She turned around to see her mother's thin frame leaning against the doorway wearing a worried expression. Mother began to speak before she had fully crossed the room to sit down. "Clarissa there is something I've got to tell you..."
    ...
    "David isn't my father?"
    ...
    "No. But I know who is. And I think it's time you finally met him."
    ...


    The sky was dark that day in Gotham. The leaves were blowing every which way with gusts of strong wind, and she was shivering under her Greg flat and black scarf. "Miyher, please. Atr you sure this man is my father? Are you sure this is the right place? Why can't I just stay with you and David? Couldn't I have at least brought the cat?" She was arranged to stay with him for an unknown amount of time. Mother was rather careless in this endeavor. As far as Clarissa knew, this guy didn't even know she was coming. Mother didn't give her more than a peck on the cheek when she dropped her off in the driveway of his home: a lakeside mansion that he'd taken residence in when Wayne Manor fell into disrepair. Clarissa pouted as she watched the black vehicle pull out of the driveway and down the street. The girl gave a heavy sigh. Her chest felt tight. She wanted to burst into tears! Was this some sort of weird plan to get her to bond with a dude she didn't even know, who was supposedly her dad? "After all these years, mother, and now you tell me? She waited in silence before knocking on the door. With her luggage beside her and her hands clasped at her front, Clarissa waited.

    It was a moment later before the door opened. There stood a tall guy, the hard features of his face twisted in confusion. He gazed down at the young girl before him, his blue gaze unreadable. He didn't speak for a solid minute. Then he said softly, "May I help you?" His voice was deep, but yet gentle.


    Bruce Wayne rarely opened the door himself, but Alfred was in town at the moment, getting a few things. He had heard the car pull up, and had watched as the girl had gotten out. He didn't have a clue who the girl was, but he had recognized the woman. He had once been close to her, closer than he should have been. But that had been years ago. They hadn't even spoken in he didn't know how long. So why had she suddenly came here and dropped off a child? More importantly, who was this kid?


    ((Would you be interested in a Damien love story?))

    Clarissa felt the awkwardness of silence with a stranger settle over her like fog. She free anxious then, trying to decipher his hard gaze and silence. Finally he spoke. Oh hell! /I look like a fool. What am I supposed to say?/ Clarissa thought desperately before she shifted her arms and clasped a hand around her luggage in a fidgety movement. Her foot tapped once or twice on the solid entranceway. "I-- uh. My mother, she told me that you-- that I--" The girl's cheeks grew red and hot with humiliation. "I'm your daughter? I think. U-unless there's another man here?" She craned her neck and leaned to the side to look past the man and into the home. There was no one there. From what she could see though, the house was well furnished and glass all around. There was a minimalist style to it with dark tones accentuating each piece of furniture and decoration. A pleasant, clean scent emitted from the doorway. She wanted to blurt out 'Woah, dude you're like, rich!' But she refrained. Mother had taught her well. Clarissa looked to her shoes then, as if too unsure and awkward to meet his eye. They looked very similar actually. She had hair of a soft brown color that was straight and fell past her shoulders. Her eyes were a pleasant green, her skin was fair with a freckle on her left cheek, and her brows were arched in an expressive 'soft surprise.' She was not the spitting image of Mr. Wayne, but the resemblance was there. If one knew the family, they might have likened her to Martha Wayne herself.


    ((Im currently in one with another person, but that would depend. I'm not opposed to taking on a second. Usually in a Damian romance plot, I'd prefer to play the female. What did you have in mind?))

    ((Well, I was hoping to play the girl. But I was thinking that Damien is investigating a fighting ring, and he fells in love with the best fighter they have. So, it causes some trouble when they have to break the ring up)


    The girl did remind him of his mother. Bruce raised an eyebrow as the girl rambled some, then smiled faintly. "There is another man that lives here, but you wouldn't be related to him." he said as he opened the door wider. "Come in." he told her. He turned and went to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" he asked her, glancing back at her. He wasn't really sure what to do. He wasn't expecting a girl to just show up on his doorstep.


    ((GTG because my cousin thinks she rules the world))

    ((I think for now I'll focus on the three rp's I have. Plus, I wouldn't wanna take on too many and then not be able to give 100% when needed. I like that idea though and I'm sure you'll find someone better available to rp it with you than I. :) ))


    Clarissa was taken with his calm. He seemed kind. Not shocked or in denial as one would be finding out they have a long lost teenage daughter. Creasing her brows in confusion she went along with his offer and stepped inside. Just as he mentioned food her stomach began to rumble. "Sure. Its been a long journey from NYC." Clarissa added as she placed her luggage by the door and walked slowly towards the bar top counter facing the kitchen. She proceeded to fold her hands in her lap and sit up straight. Mother was strict in manners. There was no time to relax when in an important person's presence. Right now she didn't know how to act in front of him. So, this is what she did.


    Watching him work, Clarissa studied his movements and physique. He appeared to be very fit and active. Though the man's age was gaining on him, he looked better than most 40-something dads she knew. Aka, those she had to greet when visiting with a friend for the first time, or waving to one as they dropped her friends off at school. Other than that he was obviously wealthy. The land around the home looked beautiful. Like a picture from a nature magazine. The house itself was unique in it's build and stylish in interior. The man's clothes were tailored and expensive-looking too. They weren't so unlike, she found shortly. "What is your name?" Clarissa spoke suddenly as she looked away at a bird perching on tree just outside of the window.

    ((I was just wondering. I might just write my fanfiction on the idea. I've been looking for a Batman idea to do a fanfict on and this might be the perfect one))


    Bruce looked at her, surprise in his eyes. "Bruce Wayne. Your mother didn't tell you?" he asked her. He was currently making her a sandwich, the best he could do. He was no cook like Alfred. He kept his eyes on her as he finished making it, and once done, pushed the plate over to her. He leaned against the counter, watching her closely. A sudden thought came to him. "What is your name?" he inquired of her. He felt he had been rude by not asking her name, but the surprise had gotten to him.


    Sudden, Alfred walked in. He stopped short when he saw the stranger. "Master Wayne, I imagine we are having a guest staying?" he asked. Bruce looks over at him. "We are Alfred." he tells him. Alfred then looks at Clarissa and bows. "Please to meet you Ms..I'm afraid I don't know your name."

    She shook her head casually. "She didnt." The girl said before she looked down at the a and which and opted to eat it once they were done with introductions. "My name is Clarissa Harmon. I took my fa-- uh, stepfather's name as a child. I suppose I've got a new one now." Sitting up a little as she heard the door open, the youth would then her head and find a well-put-together looking man carrying groceries. Was he Bruce's father? They looked like they could be related somehow. Maybe. "Oh, yes hello. I'm Clarissa." This time she said her first name only. She wasn't sure how of what to call herself. Suddenly she had a thought. "When we drove in I noticed a large building in the city. 'Wayne?' I assume that is yours." Clarissa spoke eloquently for her age. While some of her friends were casual and rambunctious in thirbmanner, she was opposite. Prim, proper, well-mannered, and not a flaw to be revealed unless she knew she didn't need to act so uptight. She didn't say anything but the girl wondered if this guy had any pets. Petting a cat seemed nice right about now.


    ((That would be cool. You'll have to show it to me sometime if you don't mind haha))

    ((I will. I'm going to try and start on it sometime today))


    "Yes, that building was mine." Bruce told her. He goes over to Alfred and helps him set the bags on the counter. "Alfred, when Clarissa gets done eating, help her settle into one of the guest rooms. I have a meeting I have to get to." Bruce said. Alfred nods. "Of course sir." He then turns to Clarissa. "I'll go ahead and take your luggage if you want Ms. Clarissa." he told her. He gave her a small smile. He hoped she wasn't too overwhelmed by all of the new stuff.


    Bruce had gone over to the sink, and had his back to them as he washed his hands. However, he was listening closely to them. He was still confused as to why the woman would suddenly just drop her child off. And why hadn't he been told of her before? As he dried off of his hands, he turned to them. "Clarissa, what was your mother's name?" he asked her. Perhaps knowing who this person was would help him figure everything out.

    Beginning to eat she nods to Alfred about the luggage. What a nice help he was being. It didn't take her long to finish. For now she would ponder on the fact that her supposed father was indeed very rich. A millionaire? Billionaire even? Where was his yacht? Every rich person had a yacht, right? Clarissa cleared her throat and returned her focus to Bruce. If she was being honest, he still intimidated her. They were strangers trying to act as if they were family; like they knew each other for the 16 years that she had been alive.


    "Her name is Angela." She didn't know what else to say that may help him figure things out. "Used to live around here I guess. She doesn't talk about it much. After I was born, she moved to New York and got married when I was still very young." A silence fell over the girl. She thought about her mother and her stepfather. How they must not care that they'd just dropped her off here in a strange city at a stranger's house without even a hug goodbye. She longed to see her poodle, Rocket, and sleep in her own bed. There were many little things she missed about home now that she was so far away. Maybe she'd text a friend later. They always came through when her parents couldn't.

    Alfred took Clarissa's luggage and disappeared out of the room. He went to a guest room close to Bruce's, figuring he would want to keep the child close. That was the way he had always been.


    Bruce noticed Clarissa's discomfort, and frowned. As for the girl's mother, Angela, he would have to deal with later. He leaned against the counter as he studied her. "I can have Alfred take you into town if you would like. There isn't much to do here at the moment. You can do whatever it is you teenage girls do these days." he told her. Okay, maybe that wasn't the way to go about things. But he didn't have much of a choice at the moment; he had a meeting to get to. "I promise we'll have time to get to know one another later on. But I have a meeting in an hour I'm afraid." he tells her honestly. He then stood up straight, grabbing the plate. He took the plate to the sink and sat it down. He knew Alfred would wash it along with the few odd things that were also in the sink later.


    "Have you ever been here before?" Bruce asked her as he turned to face her once more. He couldn't help but glance at his watch. He frowned when he saw the time. He needed to go get ready, but didn't want to leave the girl in the state she was in.

    She sighed, trying not to appear too distraught. "Sure. Im sure I can find something to do." Clarissa wondered if she would look out of place in Gotham. Maybe the other kids here were like her. She was sure someone would take an interest in her on her outing. It would be pitiful to be walking around, sticking out like a sore thumb. She felt like one even. Nodding in understanding at his work duties, the teenager would sluo from her bar stool and push it back in. "Not since I was an infant. I dont remember the city at all... If you'll a excuse me." Next, she'd make her way to the hallway where she was sure her bedroom was located. "I'll go change into something else. It's hot in this coat." She was not much for words. Her conversations tended to be dry and awkward. /C'est la vie./ she thought before disappearing into the comfort of the guest room. When she entered, she found it to be minimal in style, as the rest of the home was. Though a large and pretty bed was against one wall. Clarissa , in a moment of weakness, sighed and threw herself belly-first onto the bed. She bounced a little before sinking into the memory foam mattress. "What is my life?" Angsty much? Clarissa had a habit if thinking out loud. At least now her words were a whisper.


    Once changed she returned to the living room and had a look around, not paying much attention to Bruce or Alfred if they were there. Currently, a book lying open on the coffee table captured her interest.

    I'm mobile so this might be bad))


    Bruce was no where to be seen. Alfred however was there. He was standing on a small step ladder, dusting one of the shelves. "Are you finding everything to your pleasure Ms. Clarissa?" He asked without even glancing at her. It was one of his many 'gifts'; he was able to sense when people entered the room he was in.


    Finished with the dusting, Alfred climb down carefully. He turned to face the young girl, concern in his eyes. It had been a while since there had been a child in the place, and the house wasn't exactly kid friendly. He hoped Clarissa wasn't too bored.

    She lifted her gaze, watching the older man then and appreciating his sense of style. Alfred looked like he'd seen a lot. He also kinda looked like her history professor back home. "I am. Thank you. Bruce let me know you would drive me into town if I wished. But don't worry, I think these books are more entertaining." After a few moments she tilted her head and creased her brows; taking in a breath as though she were about to pose a question. And she was. "Has he told you who I am?" Clarissa was growing more comfortable here, which meant increased confidence in speaking on her part. She could get used to the quiet.

    Alfred smiled when she said she found the books more interesting. He too found pleasure in pages rather than in the world. Hearing her question, he answered slowly, clearly thinking as he spoke. "He told me that you are his daughter yes. As for who you are, why only you can answer that question my dear." With that, he turned and went to the other side of the room. He began cleaning over there. "I do hope I'm not bothering you." he said, casting her a glance.

    "Alfred the philisophical." She chuckled, lifting her legs and draping them over the couch. "I don't mind. It's nice having someone else around. Does Bruce work a lot? Seems like he'd be busy all the time." She had a lot of questions and with Alfred probably knowing her father a long time, she was confident that he knew what he was talking about.


    ((I wonder if we can set up a plot in this rp where Clarissa becomes Robin at some point))

    ((I think that would be cool. We definitely can!))


    "Master Wayne is a busy man." Alfred said. He sets his stuff down and goes over to her. "But I assure you that you will get the chance to get to know him. 'He adds. He began dusting the end table. "Are you sure you don't need anything? " He asked her


    ((Mobile))

    Clarissa nodded before glancing down at the book in her lap and bending the corner of one of the pages. "I dont need anything right now, thanks." Her voice seemed to take on a solemn tone. Like a sad thought had popped up all of a sudden. "I think I'm gonna sit here for a bit. Maybe nap." She chuckled slightly.

    Alfred raised an eyebrow, not believing her. "Perhaps a bit of fresh air would do us both some good." he mused, but didn't press her anymore. Instead he went about the room, busying himself by cleaning. He however kept a close eye on Clarissa, concerned about the girl. Soon, he ran out of things to dust. So, he simply started to clean the windows.


    (Skip to Bruce getting back?)

    Fine with me! Would save us the trouble of rping awkwardly until he returns.))


    Clarissa was asleep on the couch by thr time Bruce returned. She had curcled up into an almost fetal position in her side and was partially covered with a blanket. A book lay open on the floor below, supposedly having dropped in her tossing and turning. The home had accumulated the slightest of chill in the hours of Bruce's abcense as well, prompting the girl to gain a shudder when she breathed. Clarissa could be sensitive in the weirdest of circumstances. Temperature changes were not in her favor. The same went for food and daily routine. In the past week she had gone through what most people 20 years older may experience in a number of weeks or months. A big change for someone so accustomed to her life the way it was. Before, Clarissa's life was doing homework, studying, going to school, hanging out with only those who had the same life goals, eating bland and non-exciting health foods, and looking and options for college. To say that her mother didn't control her life was an outright lie, but it was the only thing she had ever known. That, and a treat every once and a while from her stepfather, who didn't agree all that much with mother's rigid rules. Now? Clarissa was facing a whole new world. This cold, empty home, with a ki d butler to keep her company, and a pretty much stranger for a dad. And what else? Mother didn't know for sure if this guy was her blood father. She wouldn't go so far as a DNA test, but it was probable if all matters had been considered.

    True))

    Bruce hadn't been home for more than a minute before Alfred had informed him of Clarissa's 'condition'. Personally, he thought his friend had been going overboard with his worrying. The girl was fine. Or at least Bruce told himself. But he went to check on her anyway, and couldn't help but smile when he saw her asleep. He gently picked up the book and sat it on the end table. He then leaned down, and picked Clarissa up as gently as he could. He cradled her close as he walked her up to her own room. Alfred was there, and moved back the blankets so Bruce could lay her down. Bruce did so gently, then covered her himself. "It's alright Alfred. I've got it from here. Go rest. You've had a long day." Bruce said. "You yourself have." Alfred retorted, but left away. He couldn't deny he was tired.

    Bruce sat down on the edge of the bed, and gazed down at the sleeping girl. Could she really be his child? She didn't look like him, but she looked like his mother. The pain from the memory hit Bruce hard, and he looked away from her. What was he thinking? He wasn't the best father figure for a girl so use to one. Shoot, he wasn't even your 'typical' man.