The boat yard off of Gotham Harbor is just another twisted reminder to Damian that Penguin isn't in Arkham right now. Staring off past the water to set his eyes on the large building shaped like an iceberg is all just there to taunt him as if Penguins in there right now, while he's doing something else. While Damian's busy with something more personal, something big could be going on down at the iceberg lounge.

This was on purpose. Scorn was trying to make him choose what he was going to do. Who knows what Penguin is doing right now. One thing for sure, Damian doesn't know what he's doing right now. Plotting, planning, scheming something. But he can just leave now, save for one girl that he just so happens to know. It's not that simple, unfortunately. He can't just go and hopes that Scorn leaves her alone, while he goes and gets the jump on Penguin to figure out what he's doing or figure out what he's been doing.

There's another issue at hand here, Scorn knows it all. He knows Bruce Wayne is Batman, he knows that Damian Wayne is Robin. And with a little digging with a pick axe? He found Damian's backstory. Everything he couldn find out, anyways. Knowing Scorn, he has no real concern in money or things of that sort. Damian knows this, Scorns only in it for the enemies he makes. He lives off of making everybody he hates understand why he calls himself Scorn.

Damian knows that Scorn wouldn't even think twice about spilling it all if it turned you against him. And He always seems to be two steps behind Scorn, this is only because he has the benefit of staying still for a couple of years. Planning, with the means to back it up.

"Damn you, Drake." Damian mumbled to himself as he held up the scanner to each metal cargo crate he passes by. The silent beeping sounds signalling if there's anything weird or out of the ordinary. Something he knows he should be looking for. And with ever step, the dock he's walking on moves just a little bit that unsettles him. Swaying on the water as if the chains have been cut, or the pillars have been moved.

This all started because when Tim was Robin, Scorn first encountered him. One of his first missions, apparently. And Tim just had to go and break his leg. Tim probably didn't know any better at the time, to him it was just an accident. And to Tim, it was just a broken leg. But Scorn got away, and nursed himself back to health with anger.

"I see you're still as lost as ever, Robin." A booming voice came from one of the speakers in the boatyard, hoisted up on a post. Causing Damian to turn his head around in the dark and reach for the small handheld flashlight in his utility belt. Assuming at first, it could have been Scorn behind him. Only to press his thumb to the soft button and have the light shine up on a small black box-speaker hanging to a post. As initially expected.

"Where is she? I'm in no mood for games." Damian stated, looking away from the black speaker and going back to scanning some of the crates. The empty cargo shipment containers would be used to import and export goods in and out of Gotham, some he knows may or may not be legal. Scorn did this on purpose, to see if he can distract him. Save one girl and his secret, or unfold an ongoing plot.

"But I am." The voice came from another part in the boatyard this time, sounding more electronic and jumbled than last time. He's messing with him now, and Damian knows this.

"She's just a civilian. You've never killed someone completely innocent before." There's a list of the people that Scorn's killed. Albeit, a short list. Scorn likes to think of himself, not as a criminal, but as someone doing what needs to be done. Yes, there are casualties. People die. And it's exactly why he needed to be stopped, along with his older partner. Wrath.

But he's not here right now, and neither is Batman. Nobody to hold their partners back if this got violent.

"You see, that's where you're wrong. I did a little research on your friend. Wondering, 'Why are you so close to someone so new in Gotham?' You think your little plan is so under wraps, don't you? You think the little team you plan on making is so hidden from me. Jaime Reyes, you better act on him fast. He's planning on leaving Gotham Academy. Or have you already made him hate you? Oh, what about Cissie King-Jones? You see yourself in her, other than that? She'd have no real attributes to your team. A mother with a controlling thumb over her child. You think I wouldn't notice that? You think I wouldn't pull up the red-tipped arrows in the gutters of gotham city and just assume it was the Red Arrow? Or Arsenal? See, I know that too." But not a name, Damian thinks. Smirking.

"You're planning on assembling a team. One time or another, you're going to act on it. Jaime, Cissie, Andrew, Demetria. (Y/n). But the thing about that, you're too late." There was a dark chuckle at the end of his sentence. Pausing to inhale a breath of air, only to let out a disappointed sigh to the young vigilante in the boat yard who was listening to his every word.

"I've already killed one of them. Andrew, the one who you thought would be best with computers. The one you wanted to use for his electronic genius. I suggest you send someone to Gotham Academy right now, tell an officer to go look in his dorm room." Damian felt his gut wrench and twist. How did Scorn do this? Why, a better question. This was just between him and Damian. Now he's pulled other people into it.

"Now Demetria, another unknown variable. I thought you were insane at first for trying to get her in on this. But then I figured out why. She hits back, her appearance is very distracting to what she's really capable of. Do you plan on using her as your backup if Superboy ever goes rogue? The kryptonite embedded in Demetria Taughtfest's spine would make it possible for you to use her like that. And I've seen Superboy at your side once or twice. Everyone and their mother knows about the trust issues between Superman and Batman, maybe you're just the second generation of that mistrust." There was a smirk in his voice and Damian could practically see it.

Jon is Damian's closest friend, aside from maybe Colin. But Damian knows that Jon is going to grow up to be stronger than Clark, there's no denying it. So of course, he's mentally taking precautions in case that is ever a reality in which Jon is someone who can't be controlled.

This is all about control.

"But the one that amuses me the most, (Y/n) Constantine. See? I bet I figured that out before you. She must hate herself. With a father breaking her heart before anybody else could. Do you see what I'm getting at? You care about her. That ridiculous play that the principle of the Academy is forcing the two of you into. Normally, you could have bought your way out of it. But you're letting her get to you, constantly bringing it up that this is her best shot at an education. She's right, ya' know. Education in Portland is shitty. Do you actually take fun in doing that? It's so stupid, I bet i could get a million hits on youtube uploading a video of a Wayne kid dancing so ridiculously with a classmate. It's amusing, but the way you edge yourself closer to her? I've noticed more than that. The way you seem to instantly regret it. The way your face scrunches when she gets too close on her own attempt, and not yours. You don't want her to get involved with you, don't you?" He said, voice loading with gravel as if he's pressed his lips to the mic that he was speaking into. Raising the hair on Damian's neck.

But Scorn has a point.

"I found something else too, you can scrap everything I just said if this is true. Did you know that you spent a year with her? I found a picture or two, this was way back when I was only trying to figure out that you weren't always a Wayne. I just looked it over back then, but now? It makes sense."

"What're you talking about? This is stupid, where is (Y/n)." He demanded, shouting up at one of the speakers. Constantine, Constantine. where has he heard that name before?

"Talia had to play babysitter. Sucks to suck, I guess. But I mean, I don't know Talia. She was your mother, not mine. So maybe you can tell me if I'm wrong when I saw that even her secrets have secrets." He's taunting him now. Flaunting it in his face that he knows this much. Flaunting it and bragging that he can get under his skin so easily.

"Why am I not surprised, you have no respect for the dead." Damain's trying to play at this, but it isn't getting anywhere.

"Oh, but Damian. Did she really even want you-"
"Stop this."

"Then tell me, what is protocol Leviathan?"

Leviathan. When Damian died, that name was everything at the moment. Talia tried to leave the league to make her own thing, calling it Leviathan. He was killed by a clone of himself that Talia made her number one soldier of Leviathan. And afterwards when the night was over, she killed his clone out of annoyance. As if killing someone with the face and blood of her son was so easy, as if giving out the order for her son to be killed was so easy.

"How unfortunate of you to grow feelings for the one person you're not allowed to touch."