p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Here is Damien and Cujo! A chapter I didn't initially expect to write, but I thought the idea was cute! I have most of the other chapters prepped, but not completed or edited quite yet. Still a work in progress, but a finale is imagined. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"strong style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Damien: /strongAs of right now, I am a vegetarian. And this is Batcow!/p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"It was a rare occurance when someone called up Damien Wayne asking for his personal assistance. Usually Father or Pennyworth, ahem, Alfred, called upon him daily to act in his Robin duties, but this was different. Someone was specifically calling for his civilian duties. It was strange, but also refreshing. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left""Damien, are you there?" the voice on the phone asked. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"He stammered before answering, "Yes, I am. I will arrive in fifteen minutes." He straightened his back, as if his physical confidence was present through the phone. br /br /"Great!" she hung up the phone before saying goodbye. And the great seemed a little rushed too in his opinion. What kind of emergency was there that she couldn't even complete a formal parting? Completely unprofessional. He would make a complaint to the volunteer suggestions box at his next available moment when he arrived. br /br /"Pen-Alfred," Damien started. He set the phone on the counter and righted himself towards the family butler. It was proper to make a request with eye contact, at least that's what he was taught in the League of Shadows. Some things were hard to break. "I require a ride into town."br /br /Alfred already had the keys to the Bentley in his hands. Of course he did. He was always the most prepared, after Father, of course. "And where to, Master Damien?"br /br /He followed Alfred into the garage and strapped himself into the back seat. The passenger side back seat specifically, so he could always see part of his driver's face. "The Gotham Animal Shelter on 5th and Main."br /br /"Very good, sir." He appreciated how Alfred rarely questioned his motives, especially when requesting personal favors. br /br /p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"br /Damien walked into the back entrance of the shelter, the one usually reserved for employees only. But Damien had created a positive repour with enough of the employees to be able to also access it. It also found great use when escaping the paparazzi. That was one pesky problem with being a Wayne. As Robin, he could slide into the shadows, but Damien was a public figure and should be viewed in the daytime hours as a normal, billionaire heir. br /br /It was surprisingly quiet. Damien could hear his footsteps on the concrete floor. He purposefully tried to make noise when in his civilian persona, but this was obnoxious. The squeaks of his rubber soled shoes was so loud without the animals making noise. How did people stand being this noisy all the time, he /br /Normally walking through the office would be a cacophony of barks and meows and whines from the various animals, but this time it was dead silent. One office door was ajar out of the three. Damien stepped up to the door, pulled down his sweater, the casual one that wouldn't be ruined by the smell of shelter animals, not that Damien personally minded. It's not like the animals could control that part of themselves, especially in their current states. He knocked twice. br /br /"Come in," a voice answered. Damien pushed the door open and took one step into the small room. Sarah, the daytime manager looked stressed. Her eyes weren't even looking at Damien; they were unfocused, glistened over, obviously thinking strongly about something. Her hair was a mess and she had dark bags under her eyes. He cleared his throat politely. br /"How may I be of assistance?" he inquired. He was very curious what could be so serious to ask him to come in today when she knew he routinely volunteered at this shelter on Thursday and Sundays (before family dinner). br /br /It was like she finally realized someone else was in the room with her. Sarah snapped out of her stupor. "Oh, Damien, thank God you're here. I didn't know who else to call."br /He did appreciate hearing that she thought he could handle any emergency, but that still didn't explain the predicament. He decided silence was the best method here to get her to continue talking. br /br /"We picked up this stray yesterday. Little boxer pup. A little odd looking, but most of the street dogs we pick up look a little rough on their first day," she continued. He nodded in agreement with the last statement. "And he seems friendly enough. I mean he had a collar and everything, but no number. Someone cares about this dog and he loves the attention. But he's freaking out all the other animals. First, they all freaked out when he got here. The minute we left the room, we heard one growl from is cage, turned around, and all the animals have been cowering in fear since."br /Damien processed all this information. "I would like to see the animals," he requested. "Including the problem canine," he added. It was important to consider all angles. Another important lesson he learned from Father. br /br /"I'll take whatever help you can give. Thank you for coming in on short notice," Sarah said, getting up from her chair. They walked out of the room, Damien following in tow, into the area where the large cages were kept. Damien still thought it odd he could hear his footsteps on the concrete, even heading into the animal pens. Normally it was loud and rauchous. br /br /Sarah continued down the row of pens. Damien paused at the doorway, in a stupor at the behavior in front of him. As far as he could see, each dog was pressed against the far side of its cage, physically pushing themselves as far away from the end of the hall as possible. Some were shaking visibly. Most had their tails tucked between their legs. Occasionally, one or two dogs would be terrified when they first arrived, but would relax, given time. But never had he seen the entire shelter cowering in fear at once. This was most peculiar. br /br /"Our mystery guest is down here," Sarah could be heard saying at the end of the hall. Damien grabbed a handful of small treats from the bag at the door and began walking. He stopped at a pitbull mix they had named Tiny and attempted to hand him a treat through the bars. The dog's eyes took notice, but the body didn't move from its curled up position. A soft whine could be heard coming from the dog, a pathetic one, as if the dog was scared to make a noise and couldn't help itself. br /br /Standing up again, Damien pocketed the remaining treats and took the trek down the hall. When he reached the final cage where Sarah stood, he audibly took a gasp. Damien prided himself in his calm demeanor. And he was no stranger to strange sights, but this was not what he expected. In the cage in front of him was a boxer mix puppy with a big black nose and all black ears. A collar was placed around its neck. Red eyes shone back, happy and shining. Its tail wagged ferociously and a small yip exited its mouth, begging the two newcomers for playtime. The strangest thing about the pup was its fur...which was green and glowing. br /br /"HIs name is Cujo. At least that's what the tag on his collar says." Sarah said, breaking Damien out of his obversations. He snorted. He was well aware of the tale of Cujo, and this little pup was far from the demon dog of the stories. "We tried giving him a bath, but I think green and glowing is his normal color." She shrugged. "And I don't know why he is freaking out all the other dogs." She looked in worry at the other animals. "I didn't know who else to call. But you have a strange way with our more problem animals. Maybe you could work your magic?"br /br /"I do not have any magical abilities," he stated, "however, I will attempt to assist. If only for Cujo." Sarah laughed, thinking Damien was making a joke. br /br /She unlocked the cage and pocketed the manager keys into her pockets. Heading back towards the office, she patted the young boy on the shoulder and yelled back, "Good luck, Damien!"br /When she was out of earshot, Damien let out the breath he was holding. This was definitely a special case. If he was in his uniform, he might even call Father for assistance. But, today was not a day to ask for help. This was an individual mission. br /br /Pushing open the door slowly, he pulled a single treat out of his pocket, slowly lowering his body in a crouched position towards the puppy. Immediately, Cujo jumped into his lap and gulped the treat from his hand. Well, the dog was definitely friendly. His attitude was not the issue. br /br /Damien stood up and brushed off his pants. He pulled out another small treat. One hand with palm up towards the ceiling, he showed the pup his other hand with the treat. "Sit." he commanded. Cujo's rump was on the floor before Damien finished his sentence. The puppy gulped the treat as soon as it was close enough to grab out of his hand. His tail swept the floor, making no noise, Damien noticed. Becoming impatient, he yipped excitedly, awaiting another command and treat. "You're trained too," he noted outloud. br /br /Normally compassion and training were the top two techniques Damien utilized when beginning to deal with difficult animals. Befriending them and helping them in their personal confidence was usually enough to get them through a tough time in their misunderstood lives. br /br /Sitting down on the small cot, Damien handed another treat to the pup, releasing him from his sit. Cujo jumped up, putting his front paws on Damien's legs, panting happily. Damien placed a hand on the dog's back, scratching its green fur. It was cold to the touch, not uncomfortable, but not warm like a normal dog would be. And despite every other animal in the shelter acting terrified, Damien did not get the feeling of horror from the puppy. Granted, he spent a large majority of his free time in a cave researching evil villains, so maybe Damien wasn't an excellent judge of character when it came to horrors. br /br /Cujo, welcoming the scratches, brought his other two paws onto Damien's lap and plopped down, happily taking more scratches. Father might want to add this to his database, he considered, taking out his phone. Cujo didn't even flinch at the flash. He really was a good dog. Maybe, with his oddities, and his worrisome presence around the other animals, he would be a good fit as a guarddog of the Batcave. Similar to Cerberos in the Underworld. br /br /It may not solve Cujo's specific issue with his fellow beasts, but it would solve the shelter's immediate issue. Apologies were for after a problematic action occured, right? He could probably convince Sarah it was for Cujo's own good. The one major obstacle Damien could imagine would be if the actual owner showed up for him. His unique complexion was an easy indicator of true owner. br /br /"What do you think, boy?" Damien whispered to Cujo. His ears perked up, but the rest of his body stayed relaxed, obviously enjoying the personalized attention. "I could convince Father to allow an adoption into the family. I'm sure you would be an excellent guard dog. You already have the intimidating name!" Damien chuckled to himself. He would have to bring up the proposal to Sarah, not that he was worried about her reaction. br /br /The only true worry was if the original owner came looking for him. As much as Damien was now looking forward to having a pet in the Manor, he wasn't above stealing someone's beloved animal. He had a collar and was well taken care of, signaling someone did recently care about him. Depriving someone of their beloved companion was worse than attempting to provide a better life for the animal, in Damien's opinion. br /br /"Do you miss your owner, boy?" Damien asked. At this, Cujo actually raised his head off Damien's lap. With his ears perked, the puppy did the head cock, signaling he was listening intently. With the puppy's focus now, Damien continued to talk. "Do you know where your owner is located?" br /br /Cujo jumped to his feet, sniffing around his kennel. Damien noticed the other animals were still dead silent, but very intent on the actions of the green puppy. A small excited yip from Cujo broke the concentration the young Wayne boy had on the rest of the shelter animals. The dog was basically alerting to the question. This brought Damien to his feet and asked again, "Can you locate your owner?" which was responded with another immediate small yip. "Find your owner" Damien commanded. He hoped the authoritative sound in his voice helped the dog determine it's next path. br /br /Seeing the dog was understanding, Damien went to unlock the cage door again. Normally, he wouldn't let the animals loose, but this dog was trained and seemed to be intelligent enough. Behind him, Cujo yipped twice. Damien turned around just in time to watch the small green dog yip once more, jump to lick Damien's limp hand, turn around, and run through the wall facing the outdoors. br /br /He ran to the wall, expecting some hologram or visual impairment to have tricked the Wayne heir. Otherwise, how could the dog have escaped? The wall felt normal. He didn't see any fake visual points or trap doors or spaces the dog could have fit through in a normal circumstance. Gotham City was full of unique and weird beings and creatures, he knew personally, but this was a novel case. Even in this town, dogs didn't walk through walls and disappear. br /br /Leaving the kennel, Damien noticed the air in the shelter seemed to be warmer, more inviting. The animals all also appeared siginificantly more relaxed. Whatever aura Cujo was projecting, left with him when he walked through the wall. Maybe this would appease Sarah's frustrations. He was relieved the shelter appeared back to normal, but slightly worried for the newly discovered mutant dog on the loose now. br /br /First, he would have to determine the best description of the situation and communication his confusion properly.../p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"alright, that was it! Let me know in the comments what you think! Always welcomed to more comments! And I'm working on getting the remainder of the prepped storylines out. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="center"strong style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-style: inherit; font-family: inherit; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"Damien: /strongAs of right now, I am a vegetarian. And this is Batcow!/p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"It was a rare occurance when someone called up Damien Wayne asking for his personal assistance. Usually Father or Pennyworth, ahem, Alfred, called upon him daily to act in his Robin duties, but this was different. Someone was specifically calling for his civilian duties. It was strange, but also refreshing. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left""Damien, are you there?" the voice on the phone asked. /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"He stammered before answering, "Yes, I am. I will arrive in fifteen minutes." He straightened his back, as if his physical confidence was present through the phone. br /br /"Great!" she hung up the phone before saying goodbye. And the great seemed a little rushed too in his opinion. What kind of emergency was there that she couldn't even complete a formal parting? Completely unprofessional. He would make a complaint to the volunteer suggestions box at his next available moment when he arrived. br /br /"Pen-Alfred," Damien started. He set the phone on the counter and righted himself towards the family butler. It was proper to make a request with eye contact, at least that's what he was taught in the League of Shadows. Some things were hard to break. "I require a ride into town."br /br /Alfred already had the keys to the Bentley in his hands. Of course he did. He was always the most prepared, after Father, of course. "And where to, Master Damien?"br /br /He followed Alfred into the garage and strapped himself into the back seat. The passenger side back seat specifically, so he could always see part of his driver's face. "The Gotham Animal Shelter on 5th and Main."br /br /"Very good, sir." He appreciated how Alfred rarely questioned his motives, especially when requesting personal favors. br /br /p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"br /Damien walked into the back entrance of the shelter, the one usually reserved for employees only. But Damien had created a positive repour with enough of the employees to be able to also access it. It also found great use when escaping the paparazzi. That was one pesky problem with being a Wayne. As Robin, he could slide into the shadows, but Damien was a public figure and should be viewed in the daytime hours as a normal, billionaire heir. br /br /It was surprisingly quiet. Damien could hear his footsteps on the concrete floor. He purposefully tried to make noise when in his civilian persona, but this was obnoxious. The squeaks of his rubber soled shoes was so loud without the animals making noise. How did people stand being this noisy all the time, he /br /Normally walking through the office would be a cacophony of barks and meows and whines from the various animals, but this time it was dead silent. One office door was ajar out of the three. Damien stepped up to the door, pulled down his sweater, the casual one that wouldn't be ruined by the smell of shelter animals, not that Damien personally minded. It's not like the animals could control that part of themselves, especially in their current states. He knocked twice. br /br /"Come in," a voice answered. Damien pushed the door open and took one step into the small room. Sarah, the daytime manager looked stressed. Her eyes weren't even looking at Damien; they were unfocused, glistened over, obviously thinking strongly about something. Her hair was a mess and she had dark bags under her eyes. He cleared his throat politely. br /"How may I be of assistance?" he inquired. He was very curious what could be so serious to ask him to come in today when she knew he routinely volunteered at this shelter on Thursday and Sundays (before family dinner). br /br /It was like she finally realized someone else was in the room with her. Sarah snapped out of her stupor. "Oh, Damien, thank God you're here. I didn't know who else to call."br /He did appreciate hearing that she thought he could handle any emergency, but that still didn't explain the predicament. He decided silence was the best method here to get her to continue talking. br /br /"We picked up this stray yesterday. Little boxer pup. A little odd looking, but most of the street dogs we pick up look a little rough on their first day," she continued. He nodded in agreement with the last statement. "And he seems friendly enough. I mean he had a collar and everything, but no number. Someone cares about this dog and he loves the attention. But he's freaking out all the other animals. First, they all freaked out when he got here. The minute we left the room, we heard one growl from is cage, turned around, and all the animals have been cowering in fear since."br /Damien processed all this information. "I would like to see the animals," he requested. "Including the problem canine," he added. It was important to consider all angles. Another important lesson he learned from Father. br /br /"I'll take whatever help you can give. Thank you for coming in on short notice," Sarah said, getting up from her chair. They walked out of the room, Damien following in tow, into the area where the large cages were kept. Damien still thought it odd he could hear his footsteps on the concrete, even heading into the animal pens. Normally it was loud and rauchous. br /br /Sarah continued down the row of pens. Damien paused at the doorway, in a stupor at the behavior in front of him. As far as he could see, each dog was pressed against the far side of its cage, physically pushing themselves as far away from the end of the hall as possible. Some were shaking visibly. Most had their tails tucked between their legs. Occasionally, one or two dogs would be terrified when they first arrived, but would relax, given time. But never had he seen the entire shelter cowering in fear at once. This was most peculiar. br /br /"Our mystery guest is down here," Sarah could be heard saying at the end of the hall. Damien grabbed a handful of small treats from the bag at the door and began walking. He stopped at a pitbull mix they had named Tiny and attempted to hand him a treat through the bars. The dog's eyes took notice, but the body didn't move from its curled up position. A soft whine could be heard coming from the dog, a pathetic one, as if the dog was scared to make a noise and couldn't help itself. br /br /Standing up again, Damien pocketed the remaining treats and took the trek down the hall. When he reached the final cage where Sarah stood, he audibly took a gasp. Damien prided himself in his calm demeanor. And he was no stranger to strange sights, but this was not what he expected. In the cage in front of him was a boxer mix puppy with a big black nose and all black ears. A collar was placed around its neck. Red eyes shone back, happy and shining. Its tail wagged ferociously and a small yip exited its mouth, begging the two newcomers for playtime. The strangest thing about the pup was its fur...which was green and glowing. br /br /"HIs name is Cujo. At least that's what the tag on his collar says." Sarah said, breaking Damien out of his obversations. He snorted. He was well aware of the tale of Cujo, and this little pup was far from the demon dog of the stories. "We tried giving him a bath, but I think green and glowing is his normal color." She shrugged. "And I don't know why he is freaking out all the other dogs." She looked in worry at the other animals. "I didn't know who else to call. But you have a strange way with our more problem animals. Maybe you could work your magic?"br /br /"I do not have any magical abilities," he stated, "however, I will attempt to assist. If only for Cujo." Sarah laughed, thinking Damien was making a joke. br /br /She unlocked the cage and pocketed the manager keys into her pockets. Heading back towards the office, she patted the young boy on the shoulder and yelled back, "Good luck, Damien!"br /When she was out of earshot, Damien let out the breath he was holding. This was definitely a special case. If he was in his uniform, he might even call Father for assistance. But, today was not a day to ask for help. This was an individual mission. br /br /Pushing open the door slowly, he pulled a single treat out of his pocket, slowly lowering his body in a crouched position towards the puppy. Immediately, Cujo jumped into his lap and gulped the treat from his hand. Well, the dog was definitely friendly. His attitude was not the issue. br /br /Damien stood up and brushed off his pants. He pulled out another small treat. One hand with palm up towards the ceiling, he showed the pup his other hand with the treat. "Sit." he commanded. Cujo's rump was on the floor before Damien finished his sentence. The puppy gulped the treat as soon as it was close enough to grab out of his hand. His tail swept the floor, making no noise, Damien noticed. Becoming impatient, he yipped excitedly, awaiting another command and treat. "You're trained too," he noted outloud. br /br /Normally compassion and training were the top two techniques Damien utilized when beginning to deal with difficult animals. Befriending them and helping them in their personal confidence was usually enough to get them through a tough time in their misunderstood lives. br /br /Sitting down on the small cot, Damien handed another treat to the pup, releasing him from his sit. Cujo jumped up, putting his front paws on Damien's legs, panting happily. Damien placed a hand on the dog's back, scratching its green fur. It was cold to the touch, not uncomfortable, but not warm like a normal dog would be. And despite every other animal in the shelter acting terrified, Damien did not get the feeling of horror from the puppy. Granted, he spent a large majority of his free time in a cave researching evil villains, so maybe Damien wasn't an excellent judge of character when it came to horrors. br /br /Cujo, welcoming the scratches, brought his other two paws onto Damien's lap and plopped down, happily taking more scratches. Father might want to add this to his database, he considered, taking out his phone. Cujo didn't even flinch at the flash. He really was a good dog. Maybe, with his oddities, and his worrisome presence around the other animals, he would be a good fit as a guarddog of the Batcave. Similar to Cerberos in the Underworld. br /br /It may not solve Cujo's specific issue with his fellow beasts, but it would solve the shelter's immediate issue. Apologies were for after a problematic action occured, right? He could probably convince Sarah it was for Cujo's own good. The one major obstacle Damien could imagine would be if the actual owner showed up for him. His unique complexion was an easy indicator of true owner. br /br /"What do you think, boy?" Damien whispered to Cujo. His ears perked up, but the rest of his body stayed relaxed, obviously enjoying the personalized attention. "I could convince Father to allow an adoption into the family. I'm sure you would be an excellent guard dog. You already have the intimidating name!" Damien chuckled to himself. He would have to bring up the proposal to Sarah, not that he was worried about her reaction. br /br /The only true worry was if the original owner came looking for him. As much as Damien was now looking forward to having a pet in the Manor, he wasn't above stealing someone's beloved animal. He had a collar and was well taken care of, signaling someone did recently care about him. Depriving someone of their beloved companion was worse than attempting to provide a better life for the animal, in Damien's opinion. br /br /"Do you miss your owner, boy?" Damien asked. At this, Cujo actually raised his head off Damien's lap. With his ears perked, the puppy did the head cock, signaling he was listening intently. With the puppy's focus now, Damien continued to talk. "Do you know where your owner is located?" br /br /Cujo jumped to his feet, sniffing around his kennel. Damien noticed the other animals were still dead silent, but very intent on the actions of the green puppy. A small excited yip from Cujo broke the concentration the young Wayne boy had on the rest of the shelter animals. The dog was basically alerting to the question. This brought Damien to his feet and asked again, "Can you locate your owner?" which was responded with another immediate small yip. "Find your owner" Damien commanded. He hoped the authoritative sound in his voice helped the dog determine it's next path. br /br /Seeing the dog was understanding, Damien went to unlock the cage door again. Normally, he wouldn't let the animals loose, but this dog was trained and seemed to be intelligent enough. Behind him, Cujo yipped twice. Damien turned around just in time to watch the small green dog yip once more, jump to lick Damien's limp hand, turn around, and run through the wall facing the outdoors. br /br /He ran to the wall, expecting some hologram or visual impairment to have tricked the Wayne heir. Otherwise, how could the dog have escaped? The wall felt normal. He didn't see any fake visual points or trap doors or spaces the dog could have fit through in a normal circumstance. Gotham City was full of unique and weird beings and creatures, he knew personally, but this was a novel case. Even in this town, dogs didn't walk through walls and disappear. br /br /Leaving the kennel, Damien noticed the air in the shelter seemed to be warmer, more inviting. The animals all also appeared siginificantly more relaxed. Whatever aura Cujo was projecting, left with him when he walked through the wall. Maybe this would appease Sarah's frustrations. He was relieved the shelter appeared back to normal, but slightly worried for the newly discovered mutant dog on the loose now. br /br /First, he would have to determine the best description of the situation and communication his confusion properly.../p
hr style="margin: 0.875em auto 1.2525em; border-style: solid; border-color: initial; border-image: initial; width: 359.24px; color: #2a2a2a; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px; background-color: #ffffff;" /
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" align="left"alright, that was it! Let me know in the comments what you think! Always welcomed to more comments! And I'm working on getting the remainder of the prepped storylines out. /p