[open!]

[cowled]

Characters: Bruce Wayne
Location: Whichever sector you fancy.
Situation: Bruce is braving the increasing hostility of the kedan radicals to be his usual arrogant, playboy self out in the public sector.
Warnings/Rating: None yet! To be updated if anything occurs.
Notes: I'll do action or prose with equal verve, so hit me with whatever you'd like. Just pop a note in your subject line about which Sector you want and off we go!






[Reconnaissance is more or less his superpower. He's reached the end of Devin Craig's immediate usefulness, and Batman can only do so much from the shadows. Sometimes, the man for the job is the one he feels least like being: Bruce Wayne.

The blood tests he took from the site of the executions were inconclusive. Hard to do much without the resources to run them through the proper battery of tests. The blood has abnormally low levels of albumin, but beyond that it's structurally similar to that of a human. Close cousins. It doesn't have any of the same markers in common with other shapeshifters he's encountered, and he can't do more without proper equipment.

What he does know is that the scraps of cloth he gathered from the bodies are congruent to fabric samples of the upper east side in the Fire Sector, which at least confirms their territory. A night's tracking lead him to the headquarters of the Black Kirin, formerly one of the most affluent presences in the sector. The place had been left in ruins, and was still a smouldering mess when he found it. Any insignia the gang had used to identify themselves had been smothered with graffiti, torn or burned.

Turf wars.

Not a thought he likes to entertain. Not when he doesn't know the locals, the customs, the movers and shakers of the underworld. Handling such events in Gotham takes every ounce of his not inconsiderable resources and the marshalling of everyone in his network. He has to operate differently here.

But that isn't why he's out here today. Today, he has business of a different sort to conduct. He needs to start amassing capital. Lieuen's little show of wealth wasn't impressive so much as tasteless and wasteful, and Bruce still hasn't abandoned the idea that the entire execution was staged between Lieuen and Evandau. But the question is - was it for the benefit of the kedan, or the 'foreigners'?

And what did they mean about saving? Everyone he's asked about it has been maddeningly vague, to the point that he's considering finding some unsavoury individual and holding them upside down off the tallest building in the Metal Sector.

Hm.

Still. For the time being, he's speaking with shop-owners, negotiating where necessary. He's chatty, amicable. If he happens across any foreigners, he'll smile and wave. Bruce Wayne, ladies and gentlemen. He's a charmer.]

Comments

for rikki;

[cowled]

Bruce very definitely did not need parkour lessons. He'd learned it in Paris, from people in Ducard's circle, and he remembers very clearly being fourteen and tearing his hands on le dame du lac. But that knowledge isn't generally something he advertises – or if he does, it's as a passing once-upon-a-time whim. Given how popular parkour is becoming in certain circles, it seems only natural that Bruce Wayne would have at least tried it.

Given his history with the other extreme sports the world has to offer.

But Rikki is good at it, and she's a vigilante, and that has his interest doubly piqued. So that's why he's at their arranged rendezvous spot bright and early, already stretching for their planned activities. The real warm-up was done back in his apartment, and this one is just for show.

When he sees Rikki, he raises a hand in greeting. "Hey, teach'. I'm ready for my close-up!"

[withoutaworld]

Rikki ran here, the pace as leisurely as it gets when you need the momentum to clear the gaps between the streets, but as she drops off the roof nearest to their meeting place she drops into a jog, and then a walk, grinning at Bruce's greeting.

"You'd better be, 'cause I got up early for this, and I'm not really a morning person." Even if she does look pretty cheerfully awake at the moment. As bright as the nights are around here, it's hard to find her own natural rhythms, figure out when she should be sleeping and when she should be running around on rooftops and kicking bad guys in the head. At least it means she actually got a solid night's sleep for once.

[cowled]

"We could have rescheduled, you know," he says, ever the penitent student. "There's no reason why you should accommodate my draconian sleeping habits."

His brow is creased with sympathetic concern. "We could always go for coffee instead." Easier to learn about her world when they aren't bouncing around on rooftops, if he's to be quite honest.

[withoutaworld]

"Well, I'm awake now," she says, without any real sign of annoyance, the comment followed by a quick grin. "Practice first, coffee after. You gotta work for your caffeine, Bruce."

She takes a quick glance around the area, deciding on a plan of movement not likely to leave him in the dust. It's tempting to just take off and see how well he keeps up, but it's probably a better plan to work up to that. Or at least make sure he's not going to fall and break his leg - or skull - after all. He might not hold her responsible, but she'd still feel bad.

Rikki glances back to him with another grin, this one half a dare. "Follow my lead." And then she's off at a sprint for a nearby wall, probably to someone's garden or something, just tall enough to be worthwhile but not so tall that an adult man shouldn't be able to vault or at least pull and clamber his way up.

And... okay, maybe the jump she makes to get to the top of it is considerably higher than an ordinary teenage girl should be able to make, and maybe it's cheating a little to go bouncing around rooftops in her vibranium boots with someone who's just learning and presumably an ordinary human, but they're the only shoes she's got here, so she's got to work with it. Rikki lands neatly on top of the wall and drops into a crouch on her hands and the balls of her feet, both to bleed momentum and catch her balance while she watches for Bruce to join her.

[cowled]

"Oh, you are a harsh mistress, aren't you?" His tone sounds amused more than plaintive, and then he's simply-- watching as she runs off.

Hm.

He's seen Dick make jumps like that, but Dick is the best human acrobat on the planet, well above what is expected and demanded even of world-class Olympians. Is this girl just as good, or is she something a little more than human? She might not even be aware of it if she has some sort of latent metagene that gives her a tiny bit of an edge. There are millions of metas in the 'nuisance-level' category, who can do any number of minor things. They are marathon winners and people who constantly buy winning lottery tickets, someone who always knows who's going to call in the split-second before the phone rings. Just enough of an ability to set them apart without making them dangerous.

If he had to describe her, it'd be as a good kid. She's certainly no supervillain in training, and the general sense of her personality reminds him... well, it reminds him a little of Mia, Ollie's newest recruit. Good-hearted, maybe a little bit more reckless than strictly necessary, but serious-minded and strong-willed when the situation calls for it.

It's enough to get him to crack a very faint smile as he follows after her. He kills the efficiency in his motion. Moves like someone who's had a personal trainer but never actually just... ran for running's sake.

He catches the wall, hauls himself up with a show of effort, and ends up in a wobbly sort of crouch.

"You know, I'm not sure that trying to keep up with a teenager is the smartest plan I've had all year."

for favrielle;

[cowled]

[He's haggling over the price of a blend of tea that Damian likes when he sees her. He hasn't spoken with her yet, but she's given her name on the network as 'Favrielle'. One of the women who was dragged up on stage and threatened just prior to Evandau's little show of Keeliai justice.

He watches her approach from the corner of his eye, times it appropriately and when the kedan manning the stall hands him his purchase, he turns and promptly grazes her shoulder with his own. Not enough to knock her down or even put her off balance, but enough that it's entirely reasonable for him to say,]

Oh, God, I'm sorry. That was terribly clumsy of me. Are you all right?

[flawedgoods]

[Favrielle hasn't ventured out much since the end of the festival. The first few days, it didn't bother her that she was hiding inside her suite as much as possible, and didn't emerge unless Nita was with her. The Water Sector was safe, however, gang free, and eventually she'd made herself go outside a bit further each day. It would have grated on her too much to be made a prisoner by her own fear.

When Bruce bumps into her, ever so slightly, she does jolt a bit. It's an involuntary reaction that makes her want to curse under her breath. She glances over to the man, human, and relaxes slightly.]

I'm fine.

[She doesn't thank him for inquiring, but neither does she agree that yes, it was clumsy. Another time she would have bitten out a sharp retort, but only in a time and place she belonged in. Not this strange city.]

Did you drop anything?

[cowled]

[He glances around sheepishly, does a quick check of his bags and then shakes his head.]

I don't think so. No, no, I'm good.

[He smiles.]

I don't think we've met. I'm Bruce.

[flawedgoods]

[She nods once, briefly, and at his introduction gives him an ever so brief, appraising look.]

We have not. My name is Favrielle nó Eglantine.

[Not that he'd know what her last name signifies...]

You're not one of the kedan I assume?

Metal. Home visit, Dad.

[demon_brat]

[There was tea in Damian's suite. On the counter in the kitchen.

There was tea in Damian's suite, and none of his safeties, boobytraps, or tripwires had been touched or disturbed.

There are only a very small number of people who would be able to guess all of them. Probably all of two. Maybe three, if Cain truly tried, but there has been no sign of Cassandra, or of Grayson.

That does not leave out the possibility that somebody else here would be capable of doing it. Telepathy is far from impossible, and it's not even improbable that it would be combined with sufficient physical skills to perform the feat. Especially knowing what he's learning about the kedan's shape.

So while he has a strong suspicion who might have done it, and that thought makes him both jittery and lighter at the same time, he can't drink it. Because that would be a stupid mistake, and he can't afford any stupid mistakes. (Sure, he has read about people earning acknowledgment and affection by being weak and appealing to the person's compassion. But, for one thing, he wasn't - consciously - trying to earn that. And, for another, he thinks that would be a manipulation that might work briefly, but won't have good results in the long run. And for yet another... he hates being weak without meaning to; the idea of doing it on purpose is plainly abhorrent.)

But still, the thought is there.

And he took a moment to breathe in the smell from up close, to learn what kind of tea it was. If the poison was to be breathed in, he was dead already.

But he didn't die. (Maybe he is too suspicious.)

And now he's sitting cross-legged on the floor of Father's residence, meditating and waiting for him to return. His face is... not exactly at peace, not even a deep meditative trance can give him that, but it's calmer than it usually is. And it may linger a moment after he becomes aware that there is somebody else in the suite.]

[cowled]

[Bruce made the decision early on that this apartment suite was going to belong solely to Bruce Wayne, and not to Batman.

Which isn't to say he doesn't have it boobytrapped, just that they're a lot more subtle than one might expect of a surrogate batcave. Bruce steps into the suite shaking a light dusting of rain out of his hair and instantly becomes alert to another presence there. It's years of instinct rather than anything actually looking disturbed, or any of his wires tripped. He's always been able to tell when he isn't alone.

He sets a parcel down on his kitchen countertop and pads into the main living area. There aren't very many people who could get into his living quarters without triggering anything and-- ah.

That would be one of them.]

Damian.

[demon_brat]

Father.

[He rises to his feet in a gesture of respect. A small thing, but this is Father's home in a different way than the Manor is, even, and it feels right to affirm that. Here. However unspecified here happens to be, right now.

Plus, Father has given him permission to come into his suite at least once.]

While I appreciate presents, I've had too long to accustom myself to not tasting anything that I can't at least theoretically verify the origin of...

[No, that is something Father knows. He's not sure explaining it is a good idea. Instead, he changes direction.]

... you could have stayed so we could share it.

[Not like the situation doesn't call for discussion. All... sorts of aspects of it.]

[cowled]

I had business elsewhere.

[He starts unpacking groceries, turning his back to Damian. The boy no doubt knows it has less in common with being dismissive and more an attempt at... trust. Especially for them.]

[tactile_telekinesis]

[Kon had flown around the city a few times, keeping a sharper eye out thanks to the attack at the festival. What a way to bring it all to an end, it was pretty fun until those losers had stepped in and made a scene. With his people as well! Yeah, Kon thought of the 'foreigners' as his people, all on the same turtle.

He dropped down just inside the fire sector to take a look on foot, sometimes height and lack of telescopic vision had its drawbacks. He sighed as he looked at the people, not sure what to think, though totally on edge and ready for anything.

Except walking into someone and jumping back from the surprise.]

Hey wow! Watch it! Geez, can't a guy go for a walk without some idiot running into the-- Oh hey, you're one of us, right? A [air quotation marks go here.] foreigner.

[Something about this guy was familiar, but he didn't know, so he wasn't going to say anything. Until he gets a name.]

[cowled]

[Bruce manages to keep his expression more or less neutral. Which is quite a feat, given the fact that all he wants to do is glower. It's not that he doesn't like Kon. He's Tim's best friend, and Kent has given the boy his blessing many times over.

But he's so... young here.

Though Bruce isn't terribly surprised at their sudden encounter, he forces his heartrate up a few beats per minute to mimic the symptoms thereof. No sense in letting Kon think he's hard to rattle.]

Uh. Yes. Yes I am. Bruce Wayne.

['Has anyone ever told you you look like Superman?' No. That would be cruel, even if it's something that Bruce Wayne would conceivably say.]

[tactile_telekinesis]

[Kon squints a little at the man and then there he has it. A name, his mind is racing to figure out the name and the face and just how it rings a bell. So when it clicks that this is Bruce Wayne, I own the world, Kon can only snort and raise a brow]

Big man, doubt flashing your money's gonna get you anywhere now.

[What an ass.]

[cowled]

[Bruce's smile is perfectly congenial.]

That's all right. I'm not averse to working for a living.

fire.

[repelled]

[chase is out negotiating on his own, perusing shop's wares and grimacing at the prices. the grandeur of the fire sector means that he's bound to encounter higher prices - a downside to living in such an appropriately nice place - which normally wouldn't be so much as a minor barrier to him. but here, he doesn't have access to his boundless resources. magic is certainly an option, but using illusion to purchase wares is almost insultingly puerile. of course, the idea of actually working to acquire funds is almost as bad.

inconvenient, the whole lot of it.

he's paused at a shop front, eying what can't be more than a decorative bauble, but sometimes, those are the most interesting. it's a well-crafted piece of glass with a flame in it, deep blue, white at its heart. the glass curves and warps in strange enough ways to pull the flame through it without making it look weak or stretched. he can't afford it, obviously, but that doesn't mean he can't look.

at the passing of an unfamiliar figure, he glances up, accidentally meeting the man's eyes. there's a moment where he fights back a sneer and only gives a curt nod, expression impassive (and only a little superior). not a kedan, a 'fellow' foreigner. cheerful. probably too much so, for his tastes.]

[cowled]

[Chase is an interesting case study. He's... antagonistic, but not to the point of needlessly terrorizing those around him, that Bruce has seen. Honestly, there's something about him that reminds Bruce very faintly of Ra's. Perhaps it's the condescension, or the fact that Chase seems to be older than his physicality suggests.

The fact remains, Bruce has decided to keep an eye on him. So when Chase nods, Bruce takes that as an opportunity.]

Enjoying the day?

[Oh, yes, he will be cheerful. Maddeningly so.]

[repelled]

[there's a flicker of disapproval at that cheerfulness. ingratiating, irritating, obnoxious ... surely there's one word out of the thousand thousands that he knows to properly explain how he feels.]

As well as it can be enjoyed. [he gives a careless, one-shoulder shrug.] Out among the everyday and the common with no real resources to make it bearable.

[cowled]

[Oh he's going to just run right over those social cues and fall into pace beside Chase as he walks.]

So it's resources you're interested in?

metal

[sophos]

[Annabeth doesn't like to leave her apartment invisibly, not always, and when she does, she leaves through the window. So she steps through the door in complete sight today, ready for another round of Keeliai investigation. Her knife, at her side. Her cap, tucked and folded into her back pocket.]

[She's not stupid. She knows the potential danger, but really? It doesn't scare her as much as it should. Especially now that she knows celestial bronze can injure the kedan, if necessary.]

[A quick check to make sure her apartment is locked, and she turns. Someone's nearby. He's familiar. One of her housemates, though she hasn't caught his name yet.]

[Well. No time like the present, right? She starts walking for him, with slight purpose.]

[cowled]

[Bruce catches sight of her at her approach, just barely from the corner of his peripheral vision. However, 'Bruce Wayne' is hardly observant enough to take notice of one young girl, so he continues what he's doing-- which is to say, tapping keystrokes into his extremely high-end Waynetech phone.

It's more than a phone. Quite a bit more, in fact. If he were home, it would have a direct link to the Batcomputer, and would be capable of hacking the League's own databases in orbit. Here, it's an elaborate toy.

But it's still useful in its own way. He's been using it to take pictures and monitor distant conversations, and today he's busy cataloguing the constellations that appear nightly against the turtle's shell. He spent most of the night taking pictures of them, and now he's working on the actual report aspect of the job.

It's all in code, of course. Anyone who happened to find the phone, happened to be able to break its encryption key, happened to be able to get into it hidden processes and happened to find this one particular file would probably wonder why he was writing an essay on the sociopolitical impact of Dostoevsky on 19^th century Russia.

He tilts the screen just enough to catch a glimpse of her approach. If she speaks out or touches him, he'll drop the phone. Any sudden shocks reset it to the home screen.]

[sophos]

[She keeps walking towards him until she's close enough to engage in conversation. As she gets closer, she notices him fiddling with something -- a cell phone?]

[She'd had a whole greeting and introduction planned, the normal starting points to that sort of thing, but her focus and curiosity shifts to the device, the complete opposite of her intentions. And when she speaks up, her distraction wins out on strategy.]

Does that actually work here?

[...she blames not being in battle.]

[cowled]

I--

[FUMBLE!! the phone goes skittering against the turtleshell and Bruce groans as he chases after it.]

It was, a moment ago. Hopefully it still is. This thing was built to get service in the Alps. Excuse me.

[It ended up under a bench. Right where he'd intended it to go, and he crouches down to grab it. Still crouched, he reboots it, and then he grins.]

My luck's holding, it seems. Hi, I'm Bruce Wayne. It's lovely to meet you, Miss...?