<div class="floatleft">(https://www.papichuloradio.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/04/Lewis-Tan.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Damian Wayne<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>New Robin Super Suit (https://66.media.tumblr.com/42ecf925d5bc642b1015a9fc276300b8/tumblr_nxvcp8Vtu51tnt8s9o7_1280.jpg)<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>August 18th, 2020<br/><strong>TIME:</strong>Night<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Seattle Docklands<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Ninja<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong>Calvin - CLOSED<br/><br/><hr/><br/>His cape fluttered gently under the pervasive gaze of the bright moon. Jetblack hair retaining their characteristic sharpness that he so adored, Damian felt more comfortable than ever in the new suit he was donning for the night. Perched upon the branch of a large tree, hidden from view by the darkness of the forest he was in, the bird of prey stalked the prey below him.<br/><br/>Earlier in the day, he'd been privy to an unexpected visit by Tim Drake aka. Red Robin. Damian held much more than respect for the guy. Tim's intelligence and capability to think his way out of a tough situation was without a doubt awe-inspiring for his younger protege. After catching up with each other, Tim had introduced something new to Damian. It had been a suit. And only hours later, Damian was testing it out in this mission.<br/><br/>Staring out at the innumerable lights of Seattle through his raptor-like mask, the suit's material hugging his body tightly and adhering to the curves and ridges of his muscles, Damian couldn't help but grin. He looked good. Very fucking good.<br/><br/>He glanced down at a touchpad he was holding. The screen displayed multiple video channels, all live. Many dozens of burly men in tank tops hefted heavy metal crates from a barge that had only recently docked. It was a private port with steel fences forming a boundary around the place. Great warehouses lay in a row with black trucks going in and out of them.<br/><br/>Damian had interrogated countless gangsters, with one of them being a dude who'd had his ass kicked by a beautiful raven, and his investigation into a drug smuggling ring had taken him from Gotham to this place. The trail led here but Damian was adamant he'd obtain more intel from this place. He instinctively knew he would.<br/><br/>Besides hacking the port's security system, he'd also attained a plan for the buildings in this private dock. It hadn't been hard, just a few hundred thousand US dollars in the right pockets got him what he wanted as soon as he wanted them.<br/><br/>Yet, infiltrating this place would not be easy. Balaclava-wearing guards donning light bulletproof vests and wielding submachine guns patrolled the perimeter of the dock. He even heard the vicious barks of German shepherds in the distance. But all the heavy security meant he had no doubt that whatever were in those containers and warehouses, it was something of value. Extreme value.<br/><br/>His gloved fingers dancing across the touchscreen, Damian quietly turned off the motion sensors around the dock, followed by deactivating the electric currents within the fences and then inserted malicious code into the system that would cause occassional sputters in the security cameras.<br/><br/><em>Hit-and-run. Hit-and-run.</em>Damian reminded himself of the plan he'd formulated beforehand. He had no intentions of undertaking a frontal assault of the place. That wasn't what he needed. What he needed was<strong>information</strong>. The police could do the busting for him but first, he needed to collect evidence.<br/><br/>Leaping off the tree, Damian somersaulted through the air and landed softly in front of the fence line. Wrapping his pitchblack cape around himself, blending into the night, he quickly scaled the fence. His ears suddenly perked up. There was a guard approaching his position!<br/><br/><em>He's got no night vision so he'll be watching his motion tracker. His useless motion tracker.</em><br/><br/>Darting forward into the maze of shipping containers that littered the dock, Damian pulled out his grapple gun and fired it up at a crane. Pulled upward, he climbed atop the tall machine and crept along the length of it, his cape camouflaging him amidst the darkness. Stopping short of the tip's edge, the wind chilly and growing stronger by the second, Damian turned a circular knob at the side of his mask. Switching through different optical lenses, he found the binocular vision he needed to view the dock's closely.<br/><br/><em>I've been monitoring this place for the past couple days. There shouldn't be this many people...why the unusually high level of activity tonight?</em><br/><br/>His eyes narrowed.<em>I need to know what is in those crates.</em>