ALL NOVEL Improvised Costume
My current room in the palace is large and dark. Moonlight is the only light that comes in through the tall windows. The furniture is dark and imposing, with a large and majestic bed in the center of the room, covered in dark wood, and tapestries on the walls adorned with symbols of my family.
Looking at this place makes me feel like I'm back at Wayne Manor. Sometimes I miss that modest house in the country.
There is a dark oak study table with stacks of history and politics books and maps of Gotham and neighboring countries scattered on it. A chandelier sits on the table, casting a soft glow over the room and illuminating my future costume designs. There aren't many materials that can replace the strong, lightweight, and durable Kevlar.
On the opposite wall of the bed is a large dark oak wardrobe with tall doors and carved ornaments, which holds my everyday clothes. Some weapon prototypes are hidden under my bed frame, and some work tools are under the wooden floor.
The fresh and humid air and the sound of water dripping from the gutter are the only sounds besides my own thoughts. It rained this afternoon.
I like this room, it's quiet and allows me to think and plan away from the prying eyes of others. Today, however, I won't be staying up late to plan, because I'm going out to follow up on a lead I heard during the ball last night.
I wait patiently for my parents to come say good night. After they leave, it takes five minutes for the lights to go out in this third-floor hallway. Even though it's dark, I have to wait another five minutes for Alfred to come and see if I'm really asleep. The old butler enters the room and, seeing the candles on the chandelier lit, blows them out. He doesn't care about the armor designs on the table; he thinks they are just very good drawings by a child, which is what I still am physically.
After Alfred leaves the room, I'm finally free. I immediately get out of the sheets. I'm wearing an improvised outfit consisting of a triple layer of clothes made of resistant fabrics that I found while rummaging through the palace, such as thick cotton pants and shirts and a leather belt. I tied these clothes tightly around my body, creating an improvised suit of armor.
I immediately go to the oak wardrobe and open the false bottom I made a year ago. There is a black cloak I took from my father's closet a few months ago, and I fasten it with a bat-shaped brooch I made from a coin.
Under the cloak, I begin to attach some pouches to my belt, where I keep some useful things like a rope, a hook, a handful of metal bullets, and a slingshot.
On my feet I'm wearing heavy boots to give me more stability.
Finally, I take the highlight of my costume out of the hidden compartment of my wardrobe: an iron helmet, forged and shaped by myself. It only resembles a bat mask, covering my entire face except for my eyes, and has small openings for breathing. The bat's ears are pointed and slightly curved upwards, and the surface of the helmet is polished and shiny. It's impressive that a young man with little strength like me managed to forge such a well-made and sturdy helmet.
I look at myself in the mirror and smile with satisfaction. I know my costume is simple and almost crude, but it's the best I can do with the resources I have. After adjusting my costume and helmet and making sure everything is in the right place, I look at the window near my bed and carefully open it as I approach.
"You have a tendency to squeak, but if I'm gentle, you won't, will you?" I whisper to the window, and as I said, just being careful was enough to keep it from causing any trouble.
The light breeze of the night hits my face and I close my eyes for a moment, feeling the freedom that darkness and fresh air bring me. Obviously I'm feeling a little nostalgic. After a few seconds, I hook my grappling hook into the window frame, making sure it's securely fastened, and with it tied to my belt, I gently descend through the window. However, when I'm halfway down the second floor, I feel my belt rope snap. I look down with wide eyes and see that the rope hasn't snagged; in fact, it's very close to breaking. I had overestimated the strength of this rope.
Even though I'm in this situation, I don't despair. I'm only a few feet from the ground, so I lower myself a little more until the rope finally snaps. I fall to the ground, rolling gently to break the impact. Fortunately, I had predicted something like this might happen, so I had a few sacks of oats from the storehouse to cushion the fall. It's a disappointment that this happened on my first day.
I quickly get up and look around to see if anyone saw me. Fortunately, there's no one around. I'm at the back of Wayne Castle, where the stables and garden are.
I know the back gate is locked with a chain and a padlock, but that's no problem for me. I take a small lock pick from my belt that I got from Alfred's workshop. There are some guards nearby, but it's dark and night, so they don't even hear me leaving.
I'm on my way to an auction house, where I'm going to investigate a series of mysterious murders that have happened in the last few weeks. After all, the last one happened here. And if I heard correctly, there are strong indications that the mastermind behind these murders is not Ra's al Ghul, but rather the Court of Owls.