catch-all log

[bolthead]

Characters: Barry Allen + various
Date: throughout November
Location: misc. places
Situation: misc. situations
Warnings/Rating: nnnnnothing crimefighting!! bats being grouchy. barry wanting to touch shockwave's equipment—i mean what.

(ooc: you're more than welcome to drop a starter if you want to tag in, or shoot me a pm/pp me and we'll get something set up!)

Comments

BRUCE WAYNE

[bolthead]

[You can take the boy out of the Midwest but you can't take the Midwest out of the boy. Or his closet. Unfortunately, Barry's closet has taken on a decidly Asian flair of late, one he's not sure he likes, so naturally he turns to the one person he knows has impeccable taste when it comes to all things haute couture.

He doesn't bother with a courtesy call, not when he can simply show up at the front door of Wayne Manor Turtle Edition at 10 am in the morning smiling cheerily as he knocks on the door to announce (when it opens):]

I was hoping you could do me a favor.

[cowled]

[Bruce, in the manner of playboys everywhere, is not used to hauling his ass out of bed before at least noon when he's been up the night before doing his sundry extracurriculars. So while he opens the door, (he recognizes that damned knock) his hair's ruffled and it's obvious he hasn't shaved by the persistent shadowing of his lower jaw.

He's dressed only in a housecoat, and it's with his hands in his pockets that he gestures Barry (almost sullenly) inside. It's not until the door's closed behind them both that he allows himself a scowl.]

What?

[bolthead]

[There's practically a spring to Barry's step as he follows Bruce inside, smile not slipping an inch despite the scowl beating down upon him. (It's the puffy blue jacket. Repels both rain and Batscowls.)

Serenely:] You really should get more sleep.

[Never mind that he'd been the one to interrupt said sleep in the first place.]

[cowled]

[His scowl deepens as he heads into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Barry, you are so not getting any of this blend. He makes it in absolute silence, and doesn't speak until after he's had the first sip.]

You don't say.

[bolthead]

[That's alright, Barry will entertain himself by taking in the decorations while patiently waiting at the table. (HurryituphurryitupBrucewhyareyoutakingsoloooooong—)

There's the sound of coffee being sipped at, followed by a flat statement. Barry refocuses.]

You could use a break. And I do need a favor.

[cowled]

[A long, exaggerated sip (at least it'll seem that way to Barry) as Bruce looks at him over the rim of the cup. He doesn't say a word, simply waiting for Barry to spit it out.

He has several guesses as to what it is. It's clearly a social call, and he's guessing that Barry's here for 'Bruce Wayne' rather than Batman. There are far better ways to get his attention for the latter. He and Barry don't generally claim to know each other publicly, as Bruce and Clark do, but they've never had much reason to, living in different cities and involved in entirely different work as they've been.

And in Keeliai, it doesn't much matter, he supposes. Anyone from their 'universe' could reasonably gravitate towards Bruce Wayne, media juggernaut, without arousing suspicion or scrutiny.]

[bolthead]

[Bruce can play connect-the-dots all he wants, Barry is here simply because he, for reasons unbeknownst to most of the world, actually happens to like Bruce as a friend and enjoys spending time with his friends out of costume.

That and he still needs new clothes. Which he'll state aloud.]

I need a few changes of clothes. I'm not nearly as familiar with the local shops as you are and I'd prefer looking presentable every time I show up [late] for work.

[cowled]

[Don't even admit that outloud, Barry, you'd make him paranoid. More paranoid.]

Clark's been here almost as long as I have, Barry.

[WHY DIDN'T YOU ASK HIM. No, actually, don't answer that, Clark's fashion sense is deliberately atrocious.]

[bolthead]

[Because:] Clark also happens to live with Lois.

[NO OFFENSE LOIS but after years of being browbeat by Iris into wearing this and trying on that, Barry is a little hesitant to venture into that territory again.]

[cowled]

[Don't let Lois hear you say that, Barry. Bruce snorts, and takes another drink of his too-hot coffee.]

Fine.

[Just that. One word of grudging capitulation. The unspoken sentiment is, you're waiting until I'm done my coffee.]

[bolthead]

[So basically what this conversation is saying is that Barry's not allowed to say anything out loud ever. Alright, got it.

He'll recline a little in his chair though, and eyeball that coffee cup.]

How's the coffee?

[cowled]

Terrible.

[HE MISSES ALFRED SO MUCH.]

Help yourself if you want a cup.

[It's grudgingly said. Because even Bruce has enough self-awareness to realize when he's being completely inhospitable.]

[bolthead]

[Don't fret Bruce, Barry will get you a life-size Alfred plush for Christmas.]

Coffee and I don't usually get along too well. [He's developed a taste for it in recent years but it's still not something he drinks on a regular basis.] Have you eaten yet? Should I make something?

[No doubt it will be TERRIBLE because Barry is nowhere near Alfred's level but it's the thought that counts.]

[cowled]

[Eyebrow up.]

I wasn't aware you cooked.

['Well'.]

[bolthead]

[Jerk. But he just shrugs in response.]

I like giving Iris a break every now and then.

[cowled]

[Well, Bruce has something of a soft spot for Iris, so. His expression becomes a little soften, and he gestures towards the kitchen.]

Help yourself, then.

[It occurs to him that they. Haven't really talked. About either of them being 'dead'. Or coming back from said deaths, and Bruce sort of shifts his hand on his coffee mug.]

What sort of attire are you looking for?

[Since 'a few sets of clothing to be presentable for work' isn't really a complete description of what's required. Even if Bruce knows damn well where Barry works and what would be passable clothing there.]

[bolthead]

[It doesn't take long - not more than a blink, really - before Barry's up, shedding his godawful blue puffy jacket so he can putter around the kitchen. There's the sound of the fridge being opened, a few hits of knife against cutting board and a quick sizzle—and then he's back not too long afterwards, setting down two plates of the kedan equivalent of scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast.

(He never did say he was a good cook.)]

Anything that doesn't make me look like I've just returned from building the Great Wall of China? I'm not picky.

[cowled]

[Bruce almost rolls his eyes, but he does dig into the food. Perhaps it's a mark of how much trust Barry has earned over the years, but he doesn't even stop and check it for poison first.

Or it could be that Bruce knows exactly which sort of poisons Barry would have had exposure to in his career and is already immune to them. You never know.]

You know, observances of local culture isn't a bad thing. But I do know a few places.

[bolthead]

[Barry's too busy eating to reply right away. Never mind he'd already had a light breakfast when he'd gotten up but there's always room for a little more.]

I agree it's not, but I get homesick sometimes.

[He shrugs, giving Bruce a smile that doesn't quite hide the wistfulness in his eyes. Fastest man alive or not, all he'd ever wanted in life was a small (relatively speaking) piece of turf to call his own and friends and family to come back to at the end of the day.]