tushanshu_logs | It's Christmas!

[Oh is that the door closing behind them good. Bruce sheds the veneer of holiday cheer almost as definitively as he loses the scarf to a hook in Arthur's hallway.

It's well within his nature to jump into the true purpose of this visit - business - but he. Frowns, just slightly instead.]

It's not an inaccurate statement.

[Friendship is... fiscine? Also, literally no one in the history of anything, ever, has sounded more put-out about admitting some sort of... vaguely friendship-shaped feelings.]

No, I suppose it isn't. [And that is the closest he will come to admitting that Bruce is somewhat of a friend, at least for now. He takes the bag with the fish in it into the room off to the side of the entrance that houses the pool (and all the bedroom furniture inside the pool) to release the feisty little betta into the much more open water there.] There you go, better, huh? [Yes, he's having two conversations at once, don't judge him.

But once he's gotten the fish settled (and heard another angry retelling of his story, punctuated by biting at the hem of Arthur's bedspread), he comes back out.] Want a beer?

[Ugh did they just have a Moment??? Gross.

Also, Bruce just gives Arthur a look. It's not widely known, of course, that Bruce doesn't drink, as he generally pretends to publicly. There's no reason Arthur should assume otherwise, but it still gets his hackles up. Nevertheless, one beer will hardly test the limits of his tolerance. He nods his consent.

Then,]

I'm sorry about Mera, Arthur.

[It's the sort of loss Bruce wouldn't wish on anyone, and although it's not generally the sort of condolences he'd hand out so liberally, it's Christmas. And the sentiment, at least, is genuine.]

[There was no Moment here. He will deny it.

The look just makes him roll his eyes as he heads to the fridge to get them each a beer; it's not very strong even for beer, because Arthur doesn't regularly drink much either.] Live a little. [He says as he tosses the second bottle at him (lightly, of course).

He stills at the turn the conversation takes, though, in the middle of uncapping his beer.] ...Atlantis needs her more than I do. [Thanks for the reminder, bro.]

[Bruce snaps the bottle out of mid-air as if Arthur had pitched it like a fastball that was also possibly a grenade, the motion verging into the territory of being inhumanly fast. Score one for Bat-paranoia and all related subroutines. In hindsight, mildly embarrassing, but he covers it well enough as he thumbs the cap off.]

It may.

[But they've both had their share of losses, and to weather them needlessly-- hn.]

I'm here about the hatchlings.

[That just makes Arthur snort. That was a toss, you dork. A gentle toss. (Gentle, at least, for an Atlantean.)]

What about the hatchlings? [He takes a sip of his beer, watching Bruce with an expression that tries to be light, but is edged with a sort of wary caution. He adores Rio'era already, not that that will surprise anyone.]

[So maybe he's a little paranoid, Arthur. Shh.]

I told you I wanted a piece of the shell to analyze.

[Yeah he knows better than to demand access to the hatchling that Arthur is like to guard as dearly as his own children. It's okay, he'll just do horrible experiments on Damian's! ... Well, no, he wouldn't. But he's guaranteed easier access to it than Arthur's, whereas he wants to collect fragments from as many of the shells as possible.

He takes a casual sip from the bottle as he finishes speaking. It's a testament to the fact that he does... bear some trust towards the Atlantean that he doesn't take the opportunity to scan it for drugs or poison first.]

[Demanding access to Rio would just get Bruce tossed out on his ass by a typhoon of Atlantean fury, honestly, so it's good he doesn't do that. After losing so many children, this turtle has sort of joined his sons and grandson in his heart, even if he wouldn't necessarily call her his child, but still... he's determined not to fail her the way he failed Artie and Garth and Koryak and Cerdian.]

You'll let me know if you find anything off. [More a statement than a question, but he does make his way into the pool room where he's stashed some pieces of shell. He comes out with a smaller, though still sizable, chunk of it.] It's important to me, to keep Rio'era safe and well.

[That wasn't a request, it was a stated surety, and Bruce's mouth quirks downwards just slightly. He covers it with another drink of the beer, and remains briefly silent. He knows it's a matter of egos, that he and Arthur have their differences and all the difficulties that follow. But this is the man's domain. Just as Bruce would expect to be told of anything concerning Gotham, he understands that Arthur would hold the same desire regarding the ocean's denizens.]

There's a chance these hatchlings aren't what we believe them to be.

[Forewarned is forearmed, and all that.]

Edited 2014-01-13 19:52 (UTC)

[Though his expression sours slightly at the statement, he can't refute it, so it's less at Bruce and more at the universe. At the looming dark cloud called Malicant. He takes another drink, gaze flickering to the nearby window momentarily.]

...I know. It's... very coincidental, them hatching now, with us here, and with the Emperor dead. [A concession to the Batparanoia, at least in this case. He might have an ego, but he can't deny the facts of the situation. To do so is to court disaster.] Still, it could also be real. The forces of the universe work in strange ways that we don't always understand.

[Reaching for hope. There was a time he thought it foolish, to rely on such a thing. But time and wisdom have tempered him. Hope is a valuable thing, and a light that every city, every shadow needs, no matter how dark it seems. Sometimes it's the only thing holding it back.

He does what he does, fights against the rising tide of corruption and filth because there's no other way, in Gotham. But after Darkseid-- being lost in time for a year, his perspective has shifted and changed. It's why Batman Inc is a thought that skirts the edges of his mind, something unfinished and unformed but very, very real.

Because he's found something he didn't have before, not in all those long years after his parents died, or Jason. He has found hope, and no longer begrudges or belittles those that have found it through other means and perhaps even greater strife.]

I hope you're right, Arthur.

[He lifts the bottle in a little salute, takes a pensive drink. After a moment, his fingers still against the bottle.]

I have a theory, that the enemy we're here to fight might be able to manipulate technology. Nothing's proven, but given the fact that it can make network posts that are absolutely untraceable, I'm not going to scratch it off the list of possibilities. As a precautionary method I've discontinued the surveillance on you and yours.

[Bruce having information on his allies is one thing. Their enemy potentially being able to use it against them? Is a mistake he'll never make again.]

[Hope is often the only thing that keeps Arthur going. He doesn't see the world the same way, because he comes from a completely different world - it's dark at the bottom of the ocean, but there's a lightness to it contrary to the pressures of the deep. A sort of peace, when it isn't being interrupted. Atlantis has its problems, but he also knows it can be better, they can all be better if they move forward. Bruce is a dark protector, but Arthur is a king, even if not in name anymore. He's always tried to be the lighthouse to his people.]

I hope so too. [He raises his bottle in return with a nod, and there's no ego to the statement. He hopes he's right because that's the best case scenario.

He looks thoughtful, paused with the bottle to his lips, mostly something to do with his hands.] It's possible. It could also be something else, or it could be that and more. My brother never needed to hack my cell phone records to find me, nor did Atlan. [A clever application of magic and technology both could be devastating, and it's a worrying thought.]

Understood, though I know you'll miss my singing Atlantean opera in the shower. [A slight, wry smile. A joke to lighten the conversation just a little bit without pulling away from the seriousness of the topic.]

[His mouth quirks.]

I was always a little disappointed you never managed 'Part of Your World.'

[He's raised a plethora of boys under fourteen, of course he's seen a Disney movie or two, and Cassandra liked watching the animations as well, the body language wasn't as juxtaposed as that of a real actor playing a role.]

Never managed to get very far into that one. The depiction of Atlantis was laughable, only Tritonians have tails. [A quiet snort. He's only vaguely familiar with surface pop culture, but that's one of the few he's at least taken a brief look at, in the name of researching surface misconceptions of Atlantis.] I do find it strange how accurate they managed to be with the crab's voice. Eerie.

[That gets the closest thing to actual amusement that ever appears on Bruce's face, the slight upward lift of an eyebrow and a crinkle at the corners of his eyes.]

Having never mastered speaking to crabs, I'll have to take your word for it.

[Skills that Batman has never found applicable in his day-to-day life? That. But the mention of Atlantean life does raise another question.]

How is Kaldur doing?

Edited (wow excuse you html) 2014-01-14 03:02 (UTC)

[Crabs have seen some things, bro. Crabs have seen some things.]

Kaldur's doing well. His training is coming along as much as it can without Mera or some Atlantean sorcery texts here. How's your bunch? [He has no idea how many are still around or have ever been around, lbr. He can't keep track of them all when they hide their identities and stuff.]

[His expression tightens briefly, and he takes another drink of his beer.]

Tim returned home five days ago. Dick - both the one your ward knows and the one from our universe - is doing well enough.

[He doesn't mention Jason. He can't. Both for his own reasons, and because Arthur's sons stay dead.]

Damian is the custodian to a turtle, same as you. Caring for another life is... new, to him.

I'm sorry about Tim. [And he is, it's hard to lose a family member like this. He'll probably never be over having Mera disappear.] I'm glad to hear about both Dicks, though. The one from our world was a good friend to my son and Kaldur cares a lot about his teammates.

...I see. I'm not sure why some of them have seemed drawn to children as caretakers. When Raven left, Rio'era called out to a young boy.

[Bruce cants his head, accepting the sentiment without fully acknowledging it. Because they are Manly Men and feelings are Difficult, or something. He draws a thumb over the curling label of his bottle, trying to smooth it back down.]

It's possible that they seek a particular balance of personalities, coded to their own specific needs or preferences. The sample pool isn't sufficient to make more than a few educated guesses, but I doubt it's a random selection.

That's possible. It could just be based on their personalities, they all seem... unique. The ones I've seen around. [Because of course Arthur stops to talk if he sees a turtle ambling around.]

Yet another thing we have no answers for. [He just sighs quietly and tips his beer as if in a sarcastic toast to the fact.]

Have you asked them?

[It's actually a genuine question, and oddly enough one Bruce hadn't considered until this very moment. He doesn't necessarily trust the turtles as an unbiased source of information, but Arthur may be better equipped to elicit a truthful response from them than anyone else Bruce knows. If the reason for and the nature of their 'bond' could be determined, it may prove useful to keeping not only them but also Asti safe.]

No, I haven't. [He hadn't really thought about it, not yet, but, well... The more he considers it, the more it doesn't seem feasible right now, but maybe.] They're essentially small children, they're learning everything from the ground up and everything is still very new to them right now, including words. [A thoughtful pause as he takes another sip of his beer, glancing toward the kitchen window as if it has the answers.] Maybe in a while when they're better equipped to answer questions...

They are learning at an incredible pace. I would have expected something with this lifespan to have a slower developmental period, but although they are still essentially children, I know they've been learning advanced quantum physics, among other concepts that humans don't traditionally grasp until they're out of their adolescence.

[Bruce tips the beer to one side, a fleeting shrug.]

I trust you'll know when they're ready to answer.

[And it is trust, of a sort. Bruce frowns a little, and takes another drink.]

They are, but even then, it's a complicated and loaded question. Emotions can be harder to express than mathematics. [Just take a look at yourself, Bruce.] I will try to bring it up when I think Rio'era can answer. I don't imagine it'll take long, but a few days to a week to get her bearings in the world I think will help.

[He gets the trust, and he appreciates it. This is definitely what he would consider his own strong area. Arthur takes another sip of his beer, glancing toward the window again like a reflex.] She's so affectionate and smart, and so curious about everything. It's hard to believe that anything could possibly go wrong.

[And that's a small show of his own trust, such that it is, admitting that about himself. Maybe it's weakness, maybe it means he'll be compromised, but at least it won't catch anyone unawares.]

[Bruce raises an eyebrow at the admission, and doesn't reply right away. Those that know him, Kal expected, prefer not to admit weakness, because they know all too well what he's willing to do with them. Almost, he's faintly surprised. And it occurs to him that despite the fact that he could put together a complete psychological profile on Arthur, anticipate his moves in combat, and perhaps even manipulate him into positions he might otherwise resist, he doesn't actually know him at all.

He has so many colleagues, but few of them are anything he'd call friend, and Arthur may as well have just slapped him in the face with the resultant epiphany.

Batman, by nature, doesn't cultivate friendships. Some have been foisted on him in his time, namely by Kal and Diana, but he never approaches them willingly. And Bruce...

He thinks about Thomas Elliot. Hush, as he's known now. No, even Bruce Wayne doesn't fare too well in that arena. Public, private. Old ghosts are always at the edges of his perceptions, and grief defines him. But he's chosen light and hope before. Perhaps this is one more venue where it's needed.]

Are you sure you should be telling me that?

[His tone is curiously devoid of anything, the statement effectively neutered of all sentiment.]

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