[His fingers follow the wood, tracing the edges to search for any gaps between or beneath them, the suggestion that something is not an original and thus doesn't belong. But when he comes up empty, Bruce pushes back to his feet. It's a strange discovery, the absence of the trap door, but not a distressing one. Additions are made to homes all the time- as the adage goes, necessity is the mother of invention. After all, hadn't Bruce done the same thing? Created a space underground once he had something to hide?
He moves towards the door to the stairs, left open behind his companions, and calls up to them-] No trapdoor.
Can you see the rest of the town?
[He isn't ready yet, to leap to conjecture, and Bruce's gaze returns to the room he stands in. The pews and the sunlight filtering through the windows, throwing colors and patterns across the floor. It's strange, but he can't even say that it reminds him of home. Gotham has always seemed perpetually grey; in this way, Beacon's unending night was more familiar.
Bruce frowns thoughtfully and tugs at the fabric around each elbow, pulling his long sleeves up just an inch or two. Alright. There's no trap door. There are candles in places along the atrium but there's no altar lined with them- which suggests that those two details are specific to Beacon as they know it. And then, because he's alone and perhaps also because this is who he is- Bruce begins checking the pews for false boards or personal belongings. Begins checking the walls for gaps and begins searching the adjacent rooms.]
no subject
He moves towards the door to the stairs, left open behind his companions, and calls up to them-] No trapdoor.
Can you see the rest of the town?
[He isn't ready yet, to leap to conjecture, and Bruce's gaze returns to the room he stands in. The pews and the sunlight filtering through the windows, throwing colors and patterns across the floor. It's strange, but he can't even say that it reminds him of home. Gotham has always seemed perpetually grey; in this way, Beacon's unending night was more familiar.
Bruce frowns thoughtfully and tugs at the fabric around each elbow, pulling his long sleeves up just an inch or two. Alright. There's no trap door. There are candles in places along the atrium but there's no altar lined with them- which suggests that those two details are specific to Beacon as they know it. And then, because he's alone and perhaps also because this is who he is- Bruce begins checking the pews for false boards or personal belongings. Begins checking the walls for gaps and begins searching the adjacent rooms.]