open!

[cowled]

Characters: Bruce Wayne and open
Date: During the mis-spell event!
Location: Lots of places in Keeliai.
Situation: Bruce Wayne is an octogenarian. This ends about as well as you can expect.
Warnings/Rating: Warning for talk of heart issues, so if this bothers or triggers you lmk and I'll avoid it in any threads we do.

Comments

[imaginate]

[Kyle runs after him, keeping up with ease, completely fearless.]

C'mon, don't be such a sourpuss. Y'wanna drive or fly?

[cowled]

[He grits his teeth.]

A combination thereof. I'm not in the mood to deal with traffic.

[imaginate]

[Kyle just has the biggest smile.]

Okay! Stand back!

[He rubs his hands, and gesticulates wildly. A convertible car appears, black, sleek. All in colour, Kyle's been practicing hard enough at it.]

Ta-dah!

[Then, he bows.]

[cowled]

[He raises an eyebrow, about as close to 'impressed' as he ever honestly is. Then he simply gets in - with difficulty - into the passenger's side. One of his knees locks, and he scowls at it, putting his hand under it to haul his leg the rest of the way in.]

You know where I live.

[Yes, that's almost an order.]

[imaginate]

You didn't even try.

[He's not mad, just extremely cheerful, as he hops into the driver's seat.]

Seatbelt!

[cowled]

[He snarls.]

Drive.

[imaginate]

[Kyle makes a face, but the car lifts up off the ground and he eases it into flying at a comfortable speed.]

Jeez. Somebody needs to get that raincloud over your head checked.

[cowled]

Hn.

[He doesn't even have a reply to that. Tiny, cheerful Green Lanterns are not on his 'to tolerate' list at the best of times. He props his cane up against the side of the vehicle and rests his chin on his hand, elbow braced against the door, watching the world as it passes him by.]

[imaginate]

[Kyle looks up at him and says nothing. Part of him knows he's not actually this young in terms of mentality but physically, he's being affected. At least the ring was still working, so that formidable reservoir of willpower hadn't shrunk. Even so, he doesn't really feel like talking to the man.]

[So he drives and they reach the front door in no time.]

Here you go, Mr. Wayne, sir.

[cowled]

[Bruce gets out, leaning heavily on his cane. He doesn't look back towards Kyle, but he does. Stop.]

Kyle. Thank you.

[It's unclear what exactly he's being thankful for, because the gravity of his words encompasses more than a simple car ride. But he doesn't bother clarifying, nor does he wait for Kyle to acknowledge it. He simply heads for the door.]

[imaginate]

[With a hop, a skip, and a jump, he's in front of Bruce and gives him a quick hug, too much like a son would to a father who's just taught him to play baseball. He grins up at the old man, the smile pure and bright.]

You too. Take care!

[And without acknowledging anything about the undercurrents of those unspoken sentiments, he dashes off, yelling loudly at someone who's trying to clean his art off their house.]

[cowled]

[Bruce doesn't move, as Kyle hugs him. He doesn't speak. He knows that affection, and-- dismisses it out of hand. The Lantern is letting his age affect his mind.

But he stands there, on the street, for nearly a minute after Kyle's gone. And then he heads up the steps to his suite, every joint aching with the climb.]