[ Bruce gives him a sidelong glance. He says nothing — no sarcastic comeback, no absolute shutdown of anything Jim is willing to give voice. The mist has invaded his mind so much it seems almost ridiculous to protest — like getting your luggage searched at the airport or having to step aside for a scan when the detector beeps. But Bruce still guards who and what he is. There is an unquantifiable value to being unknowable, to making sure people aren't comfortable with your presence. It's annoyed him intensely that people have gone for the cranky antisocial truth of him, instead of a mask that'd be precision designed to be liked. ]
[ People are weird. Bruce's fingers trace over the side of the car — he blew this one up, he remembers it with some fondness after the fact. ]
[ — the smell of rubber burning fills their nostrils. The car takes a turn in Gotham City at breakneck speed, both Bruce and Jim in the back seat, Batman driving. He's fixed on two cars ahead, one of them with a guy half out of the window, desperately trying to shoot him. Too bad the windscreen is reinforced and bulletproof. ]
[ It's a car that shouldn't be going this fast in such narrow streets, but Bruce's control is absolute. ]
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[ People are weird. Bruce's fingers trace over the side of the car — he blew this one up, he remembers it with some fondness after the fact. ]
[ — the smell of rubber burning fills their nostrils. The car takes a turn in Gotham City at breakneck speed, both Bruce and Jim in the back seat, Batman driving. He's fixed on two cars ahead, one of them with a guy half out of the window, desperately trying to shoot him. Too bad the windscreen is reinforced and bulletproof. ]
[ It's a car that shouldn't be going this fast in such narrow streets, but Bruce's control is absolute. ]