( closed )

[beknight]

Who: bruce wayne (beknight); asha greyjoy (laveers) & pals.
What: bruce makes friends; asha learns to shoot.
When: before & during the event.
Where: around olympia.
Warning(s): violence! more will be added if needed. pm/pp if you want me to set something up!

Comments

DIANA + CASS.

[beknight]

[ It's not Diana's favourite coffee shop, not described in those particular words. But it is the one she lingers over the menu in indecision, wanting to try most of what's on the menu. The cafe is half-open, always with a pleasant breeze. The staff know he likes particular seats. Some habits, Bruce allows. It helps when his usual companion is an immortal goddess with vambraces that reflect bullets. ]

[ More than that, he looks forward to this little thing they've carved out for themselves here. He sends her a quick message that there's someone else joining them today, someone he wants her to meet. And he's there already watching Cass frown at the menu. He stands up to pull out the chair for Diana. ]

[wondie]

( one of these days, she'll be the one introducing Bruce to someone. at least, so she hopes. there's plenty of faces she yearns to see again in the quiet hall of pods. so far none have woken, as much as she wishes it. perhaps in time. Diana does not have it in her to begrudge those gifted with reunions when she has yet to have one.

Diana greets her friend with a touch at his arm and a smile as she sits, though her attention is on their guest. ) You must be who I am meant to meet. Someone ( Diana sends Bruce a glance with lifted brows, before returning to Cassie, ) neglected to share your name. ( she offers Cassandra a hand over the table. ) Diana. And you are?

[lucubrare]

[ When Batman stands Cass looks up from her place of glowering at the menu in the hopes of convincing the letters to stay put and make themselves properly understood. The woman is gorgeous and she moves like raw power and Cass?

Is totally in awe. ]

Cassandra. [ Nosewrinkle, standard teenaged expression. ] Cass.

[ Only people who don't know her well call her Cassandra. Once, she was told about the curse of Cassandra and was rather unamused at the entire idea. ]. He's like that, [ she says, a bit of a rueful smile. Why so weird, Dad? ]

[beknight]

[ He shrugs at them both amiably. He is how he is. ]

She's my daughter.

[ Diana's lasso could prove the truth for all to see, but it's not how Bruce wants to know. She wants redemption, she says he's her family, and he's not a man to leave a child adrift. It's that simple. ]

My turn to meet the future, [ wry, between him and Diana. There's a hundred year gap between his knowledge and hers, and this is a little bit of karma. ]

KARA.

[beknight]

[ His test — all things considered — is simple. They walk past the pod containing Clark, and she remarks he looks familiar. That's it, and that's really all the confirmation he's been looking for. Kara is either a master manipulator or simply that earnest, and Bruce has enough exposure to what Kryptonians are capable of that he knows which conclusion he'll reach. ]

[ As expected, they don't find Jason's pod, but she wholeheartedly promises she's willing to come here again until they do. The moment she's picking at her food again he brings over two cups of tea, and begins, ]

There's something you should know.

[mayarah]

[ looking for his son amongst the many stasis pods isn't a joyful activity, especially not given that they don't find jason — but kara thinks even if they had, it would have been a mixed blessing. it'd be good to know he's here, of course, but he wouldn't be awake and that's difficult, too, isn't it? at least that's how she imagines she'll feel when she finds her sister, james, winn, any of the people she considers family and friends.

so she's a little more subdued than before, which really only means she isn't bouncing with excitement at the food in front of her any more. when bruce hands her a cup of tea and starts, kara glances up, catching her lower lip with her teeth for a moment. ]

What is it?

[beknight]

[ He can lead with at least three different lines. The value of each is measured, then, ]

I'm a friend of Clark's.

[ He sits, clasping his hands on the table. The slope of his shoulders is even, but not imposing. This isn't an interrogation — he got that already, earlier. She knows enough, and she doesn't remember. ]

From work. Not his desk job.

[mayarah]

You — oh.

[ she gets it. of course she does. and she's not outright doubtful, more confused. ] He never mentioned you. [ surely he would have? ] At least I don't think he did. How did you meet?

JACK + ANA.

[beknight]

[ It's tempting, when the call for new competitors goes out. The energy of the place amplified by its enclosure. Money changes hands, and the air is charged with the smell of sweat, blood, and the thirst to see both by the end of the night. The first rule of fight club is nobody talks about fight club, and the line stays locked and loaded by the internal commentary in his mind that sounds awfully like Dick Grayson. ]

[ A few rounds for a quick buck sound good when he measures the opponents, nobody with extremely surprising abilities that'll make it hard to earn a little extra playing the odds. ]

[ He's not surprised to see 76. Bruce neither likes him nor trusts him, and doesn't need to do the former for the latter. They work well enough together that a casual nod towards the betting pool is enough to convey his meaning. Hey, maximise the profits, and they both walk away winners. ]

[ Doesn't mean he goes easy. Doesn't mean 76 makes it easy on him, either. The crowd's roaring for a throw, one of them just has to get into the right position. ]

Give it a moment.

[ Through clenched teeth, only for his opponent's ears, almost blinded by the glare of the lights above him. ]

[personalwar]

[ While 76 may not be here because of the earning potential, he realizes that he's probably the odd one out. That being said, he wouldn't have expected Alan here to be the sort of person who'd be that set on money. Not that he knows him particularly well, but let's just say it had been a feeling.

Still, it isn't any skin off of his back to draw this out a little for the sake of putting on a good show. As it is, he's already been pulling his punches so he doesn't knock Alan flat on his ass too early into the fight.

They end up in a grapple, 76's gloved hands gripped tight around Alan's biceps. The man is a little larger than him, but it wouldn't be hard for 76 to toss him over his shoulder if that's what the crowd wants. ]

Didn't really come here to act, y'know.

[ In other words, he's only going to put up with the charade for so long. ]

[beknight]

[ The money helps, but it's more the pleasure of getting it off a rigged system. He's moving on after this, just to be a calm spectator, chat to the other refugees. But first, the old one-two. ]

[ Can't say he doesn't miss not holding back much on the punches. ]

I know.

[ He can't elbow the man in the gut, but he can move backwards and slam him against the edge of the cage. ]

[personalwar]

[ That's more like it. 76 makes a low growling side behind the visor as his back jars against the metal bars, his grip tightening on Alan as he braces himself to turn things around.

No one ever said they had to fight fair. If anything, a place like this would probably encourage them doing whatever it took to win.

Again, 76 isn't aiming to incapacitate Alan, but he jams his knee up toward his gut to get him to back off.

Let's see what you can do. ]

OCELOT.

[laveers]

[ The shooting range is one of those on the outskirts of Olympia, with more space and fewer eyes. Asha hasn't bought any guns yet, but she's been paying attention to the models. The rifles look the heaviest and trickiest. Their mechanism isn't immediately apparent to her, but the owner was willing to explain. ]

[ So she has been at the range for a long while before sending a polite message to Ocelot asking to meet here. When he arrives, she's holding a shotgun, examining it. The target is littered with various shots that made it (and didn't). ]

An arrow is quicker, [ she remarks, wryly, seeing him. ] are any of these useful?

thanks plurk for not giving me the ping for this log... :|

[shashka]

[ of course... Ocelot had been more than happy to accept the invitation. he found that he was rather fond of the woman from their brief interactions. something about her reminded him a little of one of his friends, still tucked safely away in stasis.

besides, it was almost insulting to see anyone be such a slave to the old bow and arrow. ]

It depends on the gun. The gun you have is effective enough if you're at close range, and any hit from it will usually take down anything, but the spread is crap. Smaller ones...

[ as if to demonstrate, he pulls out his own, and fires three rapid shots at one of the targets. the three bullets make a lovely triangle shape. ]

...They can get someone before they even know what happened. Of course, you need better aim.

plurk is rude :|

[laveers]

[ She admires the triangle. The gun he has is well-kept, small, and handy. A knife in the hand is just as deadly as a sword. The principle here must be the same. ]

This — is it better to hunt with?

[shashka]

[ the ghost of a smile plays at his lips. ]

It depends on what you consider "hunting".

[ though he'd argue that revolvers are better in general... that might not be the objective case. ]

Really though, the best thing to do is first determine what your shooting style is.

overflow.

[laveers]

wrathion.

[laveers]

[ ooc: continued from here. ]

[ She nods, acknowledging his sincerity, but shrugs at his next statement. ]

I am no less deadly on land, [ she tells him, with a smirk. ] now, you had promised me fair trade. Speak to me of your lands.

[deathstiny]

I would never mean to suggest otherwise, milady. Merely that, in my experience, those who are accustomed to a harsher lifestyle often grow...restless.

[That is a nice way of putting it. But, he did promise her equal exchange, so:]

I hold no banners to one land over another. My loyalty is to Azeroth herself, a world fraught with war and misfortune, and yet so full of mysteries and wonder. It is a land of magic, forged by the hands of celestial beings that once walked her shores, and now tended to and guarded by dragons. Her treasures are sought by many, both native and otherwise -- she had nearly been decimated by the greed of many more than once. Her people are stalwart and varied...humans, orcs, elves. I could go on.

[But he has given her quite a lot to swallow already.]

clary.

[laveers]

[ ooc: continued from here. ]

[ The glint in her eyes is all the answer Asha needs. Perhaps there'll be a moment later where Clary gets the opportunity — perhaps she has something grander in mind for a laugh. Asha doesn't fear her, and doesn't feel she will cross the line into intolerable mockery. ]

I accept.

[ It delights her. The grin is sharp. ]

Have you anyone in mind?

keyleth.

[laveers]

[ ooc: continued from here ]

[ Her fingers meet Keyleth's, her palm flattens. She's enraptured, caught fast by girlish wonder. This is real. ]

[ Then she realises Keyleth is trying to signal her. Upwards. Asha shakes her head, and points instead to the tail. She breaks their contact to swim around Keyleth, clearly admiring her. ]

[zephrah]

[ Oh! Well, in that case, Keyleth shows off a little, undulating her tail and swimming around Asha in an underwater dance. If she knew the thoughts going through Asha's head, she'd feel terrible for not admitting that she's not, in fact, a mermaid--but, well, she's met some! Keyleth can't change into anything she hasn't encountered before. ]

NIGHTINGALE.

[beknight]

[ True to his word, he's there ten minutes before, chatting with the receptionist about some orders that came in this morning, and the guard she's got her eye on. He scrolls over a few other things in the post out of interest, largely, he pockets his phone. The sense of urgency that followed him in Gotham is dim now, more of a scientist's curiosity than a detective's drive. ]

[ He's not sure how he feels about magic, really, but he'll find out soon enough. Seeing someone enter the door and look around as though they're being expected, he waves the man over. ]

Nightingale, I presume?

[ Bruce is dressed in his own clothes, casual office wear and coat with the Institute's emblem. ]

[ettersberg]

[ nightingale strolls into the institute precisely on time. strolls is the right word for the seemingly casual nature of it, every appearance of him a quiet and contained but confident man, certain of his place in the world. the bespoke three-piece suit speaks of wealth, as do the handmade leather shoes, but while those items speak, they do not shout it. there's a walking cane, or what seems like one in one of his hands. he doesn't appear to need it, not really.

he seems confident, but he doesn't necessarily feel it. in truth, he doesn't feel much at all besides grief, but he has experience in going through the motions, in carrying on. the famed stiff upper lip of the british has served him well since the war, since the last time he'd lost nearly his entire world. (this time, there was no "nearly" about it.) ]

Quite. A pleasure to meet you. [ his accent is her majesty's finest english. he holds out a hand. ]

[beknight]

[ Bruce shakes his hand. Poise and elegance speak for themselves. Educated, self-possessed. These are inculcated, mastered over many years. Bruce himself doesn't look dishevelled in comparison, but there are signs of one more interested in his work than bothering to be as immaculate. Alfred would usually have his head for a dirty collar or unclean cuffs — Alfred's also not here at the moment. ]

Likewise. Have you been here long?