Bruce Wayne (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chiroptophobic) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-11-26 12:36 pm
chiroptophobic) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-11-26 12:36 pm
Entry tags:
The sun is the same in a relative way
WHO: Batman and Superman
WHERE: An unfinished bridge outside Heropa
WHEN: November 25th
WHAT: Villains and other things.
WARNINGS: None.
This had been the concern from the first day. Bruce had known it from his first conversation with Alfred, that the synergy between his own villains and those of Alfred's world simply wouldn't be enough. It was why he'd insisted on the facade, in drawing a line between the Bruce Wayne that had blundered in from an alternate world and a Batman that knew his enemies, that couldn't be caught off guard by them.
It was important because they were here, because Cobblepot, Dent and Nygma were in their own ways unpredictable elements. Perhaps not villains - perhaps transformed by circumstance - but it wouldn't harm them to be looking over their shoulder. Dent in particular... Bruce worried about him for other reasons. He cared immensely about where this apparent rehabilitation would lead him. A new face was one thing, but the dream had been so real, so strange, and within it redemption had been outright dismissed. Bruce knew not to entirely dismiss his dreams, they hadn't led him wrong in the past, but nor would he lend it entirely too much weight. There had to be a chance for Harvey. Bruce had let him down before. He had to try harder this time.
The bridge was quiet, empty and unfinished. Barriers prevented traffic from continuing too far along the empty on ramp. Bruce followed the line of it, pulling the sleek, black hovercar up near the barrier and turning it to face back the other way. The vehicle was his and Alfred's pet project, already equipped with a variety of gadgets that among other things helped it disappear seamlessly in traffic. The door opened upward, and he stepped out, this time unlike their previous meeting dressed in his batsuit, cape pooling at his ankles, eyes raising toward the sky.
WHERE: An unfinished bridge outside Heropa
WHEN: November 25th
WHAT: Villains and other things.
WARNINGS: None.
This had been the concern from the first day. Bruce had known it from his first conversation with Alfred, that the synergy between his own villains and those of Alfred's world simply wouldn't be enough. It was why he'd insisted on the facade, in drawing a line between the Bruce Wayne that had blundered in from an alternate world and a Batman that knew his enemies, that couldn't be caught off guard by them.
It was important because they were here, because Cobblepot, Dent and Nygma were in their own ways unpredictable elements. Perhaps not villains - perhaps transformed by circumstance - but it wouldn't harm them to be looking over their shoulder. Dent in particular... Bruce worried about him for other reasons. He cared immensely about where this apparent rehabilitation would lead him. A new face was one thing, but the dream had been so real, so strange, and within it redemption had been outright dismissed. Bruce knew not to entirely dismiss his dreams, they hadn't led him wrong in the past, but nor would he lend it entirely too much weight. There had to be a chance for Harvey. Bruce had let him down before. He had to try harder this time.
The bridge was quiet, empty and unfinished. Barriers prevented traffic from continuing too far along the empty on ramp. Bruce followed the line of it, pulling the sleek, black hovercar up near the barrier and turning it to face back the other way. The vehicle was his and Alfred's pet project, already equipped with a variety of gadgets that among other things helped it disappear seamlessly in traffic. The door opened upward, and he stepped out, this time unlike their previous meeting dressed in his batsuit, cape pooling at his ankles, eyes raising toward the sky.
no subject
He hadn’t meant to sneak on him, not really. And if he was honest with himself he’d be surprised if he had actually… well, surprised the man by simply appearing by his side next to the car in a rush of wind. But the less people that saw them together, the better. At least for the moment.
He wasn’t wearing his Clark Kent clothes, but he wasn’t wearing the Superman outfit either. Just black trousers, a black jumper and no glasses at all.
“If that’s why you were looking up, I mean. Someone could see me. I’m trying to put as much distance as I can between the arrival of Clark Kent and the apparition of Superman, so I’m still just good old Clark all of the time.” At least until Kara’s show went air and he had to defend himself in front of a crowd full of angry locals.
“Where should we talk?”
no subject
"Distance is wise."
He indicated toward the car, touched a button on his belt to open the passenger side door. The inside was dark, but lit by phosphorescent dials and switches, an array of buttons that it should stand to reason oughtn't to be touched.
"We can talk inside. One way glass, we won't be seen together."
no subject
“So: Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent.” He hasn’t been told about Oswald yet. “Either of those names happens to be one of those ‘crossovers’ you told me about?”
no subject
He pulls the car away, judging that Clark won't mind. It's best not to let the car sit still for too long; even at the end of a bridge, it can draw attention from above, and he'd rather not be caught out.
"Dent. I let him die."
They'll get to Oswald soon enough.
no subject
All attention Clark had been paying to the car quickly shifts to Bruce when he speaks. With only a conversation (and, admittedly, some more he has kind of stalked) he already knows the man has a flair for the dramatics. So he's probably being metaphorical, right?
The possibility that he isn't makes him pause before asking, makes him swallow before he speaks. Because he'd been thinking crossovers might throw Bruce of his loop with all the differences, but he hadn't thought that would be happening to him.
"What do you mean by that?"
no subject
Clark was watching him now, and Bruce let that tension hold for a moment as he pulled into traffic, the car moving almost invisibly between lanes.
"In my version of Gotham, the Joker was responsible for Harvey's accident. He blamed me, and the GCPD, for not stopping him before it got to that point. Harvey went after everyone connected to the case. In the end he targeted Gordon and his family."
A pause, and then: "He had Gordon's son. The only way that I could save him was to let Harvey fall."
no subject
He mentions Jim's son, but says nothing of his daughter. Is this Bruce really not going to have any kind of help in the streets, even after a couple of years? He'd assumed he'd just been too young to go through a lot of the things the Bruce in his world did, but he's apparently already met plenty of his own villains and has had his own life-changing moments. Maybe he's like Prime, the only Superhero in his world.
(He really hopes he's nothing like prime.)
"And now he's here. Are you... I mean, obviously you don't have to talk to me about it, I just wanted to fill you in in the villains so there wasn't any misunderstanding. But-
Are you alright, seeing him again?"
no subject
Talking to this man is almost easy. Clark is soft, good at asking questions like a proper reporter, but he seems to understand the perspectives and responsibilities that Bruce has been able to share with no one. Asking if he's alright seeing Harvey after killing him in his own world is an example of just that. It was a good question, a question that understood its own gravity.
"They gave him back his face. That's almost the most difficult thing. I want so badly to believe that he can be redeemed, and it makes it easy to believe it, to trick myself into thinking it's happened.
"The danger is that in my desire to give him the second chance he never had in my world, I'll let hope cloud my responsibilities." His grip on the controls tightened briefly, the tension minutely visible. "But I want to."
no subject
There's hope for him yet.
"What you're feeling- what you might feel- isn't a bad thing. In fact if you were able to completely shut down any kind of hope for Dent's rehabilitation whatsoever, to completely shut yourself down to the idea, I'd question your humanity. And that's rich, coming from me."
He'd thought once that Bruce would have made a better Kryptonian than he ever did. Apparently this Bruce would have, as well.
"I can keep an eye on him, if you want. Try to make sure you aren't letting your judgement 'cloud your responsibilities'. But I think we should give him a little trust. I talked to him, he looked fine and I saw no signs of his usual symptoms. He isn't going to actually get better if no one thinks he can do it.
Do you have any idea what the S-shield stands for?" A non sequitur, but it's important to him.
no subject
Not that Bruce would ever rely wholly on anyone but himself, particularly when it came to Dent. Gotham's villains were his villains, his responsibility, and that hadn't changed, even if he was more flexible in sharing that yoke with others than his alternate had been.
But Harvey - his Harvey - had looked him right in the eye and shot him, then turned the gun on a child. A certain wariness was necessary.
He glanced sidelong at his passenger.
"Is that a trick question?" That was almost a smile.
no subject
"'Superman' is the name the press gave me, the 'S' on my chest was merely a coincidence and they ran with it. In my world, it stands for Hope. It's the emblem of my family, because my ancestors believed hope should be what drives us.
Hope makes us strong, not weak."
no subject
But hope.
Toward the end, Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he turned back toward the road in order to partially conceal some part of his expression.
"We have more in common than I thought. We both inherited the same thing from our parents, even though they're long gone."
no subject
He never thought he’d be the cynical one of the two of them.
After a few seconds, after a pause in which he stops looking at Bruce just to look outside (even though his ears are still tuned in to his heartbeat, just in case), he swallows.
“If your parents, like my birth parents, gave you hope… I think you should allow yourself a little bit of it. Hope for Dent’s recovery, because if no one believes he will recover he’s never going to.”
no subject
He wants to apply it to Harvey, but the transformation he was witness to haunts him, and that dream...he shouldn't judge him based on a dream.
"Not me," he corrected. "They gave Gotham hope. They dedicated their entire lives to the city, spent far longer shaping it--"
He fell silent there. There was such a thing as too much information. In this case, the Waynes had indeed spent more time shaping Gotham than they had Bruce himself. That was why he felt so close to the city, and why preserving it was important to him. It was all he had left, all he inherited. Gotham shaped him because his parents hadn't had the chance, and he had a responsibility to them to make it a better place.
It was personal.
Time to change the subject.
"Cobblepot is here too. I had a run in with him shortly after arriving."
no subject
And he decides that right now, maybe it’s time to call it a day and change the subject. He’s shared enough as it is anyway.
“Cobblepot is another kind of dangerous.” He admits, eyes going from Bruce to the road once more. “Dent is smart but Oswald is… resourceful. What’s he been doing, in this place?”