[ Titus is a large, shivering weight at his back, asleep and pressed close in the hollow that Damian's carved into the snow pile. It's nothing more than an alcove, a tight space, but he's packed the entrance with fresh powder and left a slot for ventilation. Best that can be done -- the buildings are fortresses at night, sealed so flawlessly even Robin can't find a way to break back in. No fooling himself, of course. The shelter is for last comforts only. They're both going to die. It's just a waiting game. He runs a gloved hand down his dog's flank, smoothing the rucked, damp fur, while his other hand navigates the tablet's screen. ] I'm sorry, Titus. [ This is on him. ] Pennyworth-- [ He speaks, clipped and brisk, to the painstakingly customized avatar of the butler. Not an exact replica, but similar enough. ] --activate the network app. And enable voice-to-text functionality. As you wish, young master Damian. [ It lacks the man's sass, his drawl. He hates it. ] ®: In regards to the ongoing debate, I have another point in favor of my argument that this frozen hell is, in actuality, the Ninth Circle of the Inferno: only the Devil himself could keep me locked out.

[ He's not so far removed from his upbringing, and not so holy as Drake, that when he discovers the virtual utopia in their midst he's willing to be generous with his find. He and Titus are both hungry and cold and exhausted, and the rules of the game have changed. He's still a hero, but he's not stupid. At the first sounds of an intruder, he gestures Titus to lie low behind the kitchen counter. Dropping his backpack onto the floor of the living room, in front of the fireplace, he takes to the rafters of the cabin-style building; high up, out of immediate sight, and the perfect place for an ex-assassin to handle any would-be attackers. The person that walks through that door is going to be met with a silent, viciously skilled ambush from a pint-sized, masked feral child, and the booming barks of his dog will follow close behind -- best to cry uncle, fast, before he gets a stunning blow in. ]

[ Throw me a starter and I'll roll with it! ]