Heavy breaths came from the vigilante as he finished punching the bag into ruins, his knuckles not looking much better but on the grand scheme of things it was was a minor speck compared to everything else. His entire body burned with the force of constantly pushing himself to always be better, to be perfect but It was a good burn, the type he felt deep in his bones, vibrating with pure muscle and well tuned power.

He knew he needed a shower. Badly. A small "god I stink" escaping him and he was going to do that, just not before he terrorised his beloved family.

He pushed himself from the cold concrete wall of the training room and through the threshold and back into the familiar halls of Wayne manor where he and his best friend in the entire universe had spent their days hiding and running around without a care in the world and adapting to their new lives. Both came from similar origins, fates intertwined like rope even from a young age, both made orphans by the cruel crime bosses of Gotham and both taken in under Batman's care and yet, oh so vastly different. But even now they still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle even if the dynamic was considered strange by the standard of society. Right now, though, Jason's frame was taking up approximately all of the frame with sounds of Damian being terrifying in the distance.

Batman and his sidekick were a formidable duo, batman and robin as they originally were but dick had become known by another name. Nightwing. Only more terrifying if you asked anyone who knew the name, but beyond the two crimefighters were Alfred and you (and sometimes his brother Tim, little genius that he was) controlling everything from the inside no matter how many times his best friend wanted to be apart of the crime fighters, to get the same adrenaline rush from the thrill of the fight, dick and Bruce came up with a similar conclusion.

No. You need to stay where it's safe.

Leaving you to build tech far beyond what should have been capable for a society like theirs, in the batcave with the butler who had raised the pair. Genius and madness as they had often been called.

He padded along the halls, the polished wood cool beneath his bare feet but the air warm enough for it to be a comfortable coolness since he didn't see the point in pulling his shoes on just to walk the distance in his own home and down to the cavern where the rest of his family was. His skin was still slick from his work out and torso bare to the room, deep valleys of muscle present from his years of training from both the circus and crime fighting but we'll built like an athlete, leaving him in just a pair of gray sweats that were starting to stick to his skin.