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Post by Deleted on Sept 16, 2015 17:12:54 GMT -5
“Uh, ‘failed to frisk…?’” A small bemused smile spread across the Man of Steel’s lips just then. “Bruce has made it clear – sometimes – painfully clear, that he has never been and never will be on board with the sort of morals and ethics a guy like me happens to truly uphold.” Superman eyed the talented, cat-styled thematic thief that sat (apparently so comfortably in Batman’s console chair) before him. “Look,” Superman finally spoke after that long and awkward pause of silence between the two of them. “I’ll explain things to you on a clear and honest slate, okay?” Superman made no attempt to proceed further with his imposing muscular figure towards the svelte, feminine, cat-themed, chicly clad world renowned thief. A thief apparently who had happened to catch Bruce’s favor. …Not too much unlike Lois – a reporter who specifically involved herself in immediate danger – just to catch Superman’s favor. Wasn’t his place to say, wasn’t his place to judge, and it certainly wasn’t his place to play law enforcement towards a character of interest within Bruce’s life. If anything? Maybe having someone like her would hopefully help in taming the hardcore edge that Batman always seemed to carry. “Way I see it, Miss Kyle? I was intruding on his turf to begin with.” A nod brandishing a wizened smile was then given to her. Knowing how secretive and how anti-social the Batman is – he didn’t bother questioning or sparring with the talented thief (or dare he say, ‘cat burglar’) anymore. Truth be told? He needed to mend the repairs that had caused damage all throughout his body – swiftly delivered blows caused by a kryptonite laced knife. And in during such a random and allusive conversation with Catwoman? He managed to heal and make a full recovery. Superman – still bathed like a Greek god in the dim lighting of the makeshift batcave then gave a cordial and respectful nod to Catwoman. “Pleasure to meet you.” Were the last words of the Kryptonian before he suddenly took flight and blasted into the cooling outside air from such a setting contained deeply guarded within the subterranean Gotham city limits. The Man of Steel’s movement being so fast, so swift, so precise – all Catwoman could truly hear, see, and feel was a gentle cool rush of subterranean gentle cave winds gently blowing through the rocky terrain’s tunnels. Was it seconds that had now passed the world renowned thief known only as Catwoman? Or was it minutes? Maybe even hours…? Whatever amount of time that had managed to pass between Catwoman and Superman’s official “run-in” while both inside a hidden, makeshift batcave hidden deep below Gotham City – and directly below one of Wayne Enterprises most lucrative indoor security installment warehouse factories – it didn’t truly matter. Catwoman had managed to accidentally come into contact with the location of such a secret storage all by luck… And as that outcome came to fruition – she happened to bump unexpectedly into Superman, himself, within that makeshift secret batcave storage. But perhaps – what the incredibly skilled thief equipped with brilliant talents in understanding personalities and weaknesses of the majority common day folk, didn’t expect the next sudden – unplanned for and definitely unknown arrival of the next visitor to make his appearance within that makeshift underground batcave. Superman had only left in total of 30 seconds or so ago – using an entirely secretive route that served as both entry and exit.
But? This new and current invader happened to arrive in the makeshift batcave in yet ANOTHER unseen entry way… This new intruder being none other than… Batman. Clad in his formidable dark and heavily insulated and secure battle armor – best known as the batsuit – Batman suddenly became visible to Catwoman’s eye. In that gravelly voice – slightly altered by the mechanics of his suit, cowl, and mask – his sudden words, his very question and focus was utterly unmistakable. “What are you doing here?”
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Post by Selina Kyle - Catwoman on Sept 19, 2015 21:13:37 GMT -5
She was left standing there after far too few words. And she'd even moved to take her mask off. And her gloves. Blinking once, then twice to rid herself of the faint traces of dust that his departure had forced up her nostrils, she nearly sneezed, fingertips poised politely before her face just in case.
Pursing her lips as she briefly held her breath she was not exactly sure what to do. There was no way in hell she was going to get out the way she came. Too many bodies, and that damn security system was just something she didn't have the patience to tangle with. She just couldn't do it. Superman? Here? She truly did understand what he was saying. Bruce was a highly paranoid man. She knew this firsthand. She also knew what was greatly at stake as well.
She also understood the pain and anguish and troubles he fought so hard to cover up as well. Now that she was once again alone in a secret sort of lair that was not connected to Bruce's usual areas, she had to wonder exactly why he had placed a satellite locale here. Then again, why not? For him, it was not only to be prepared, it was to be prepared and have back-up plans. So before she could even shift to turn and grab her cowl, and gloves once more to put them back on, she felt it. Felt the shift in the air, that crackle of electricity that flashed slightly in the air before the density shifted. A shift that was only black on black in the shadow. A feeling that she had honed over the years in dark nights on rooftops.
And his barely noticeable footfalls in all that gear.
Barefaced she turned to him fully, gear in hand as she wanted to gape at him, instead pressing those rouged lips to a thin line. Now, of all times, after her little run-in with drones, Superman, and not seeing Bruce or Batman for...weeks after their last interaction?
"I'm leaving."
She just couldn't care right now.
@knightfall
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Post by Deleted on Sept 24, 2015 1:08:42 GMT -5
It had been a good few moments or two between the time frames of Superman’s interaction and exit to Batman’s perfectly silent entrance. It seemed like the fruit bats hanging ominously above the makeshift cavern of fortified supplies and specialized artillery didn’t even notice the Bat’s sudden silent arrival. Sure – he had JUST missed meeting the Kryptonian, Superman, face-to-face – yet he could give good reason and cause as to why the Boy Scout was there – coming and going. But, as for Catwoman? Different measures and very different stakes were now at hand.
“Really?” The Bat countered, looking a little beat up and worse for the wear as he exposed his armored self into the dim lighting of the makeshift batcave.
“All for show and then go, I see?” He now growled in reply – eyeing her form, using his specialized computer advanced eye hole mask lenses to scan the entirety (with absolute precision) of her form.
Sure. Catwoman was Selina Kyle – a known fact for quite some time in his book, but it didn’t mean that Catwoman played by Selina’s standards of morals and ethics – or did it? Funny. Catwoman and Selina SEEMED to be of two separate worlds…
But in truth?
He was now coming to understand that each persona was still of the same person – one origin. SHE (Selina Kyle AND Catwoman both managed to walk along that fragile grey shaded fence between the worlds of black and white. Selina/Catwoman might feel one way on a certain day – but on the next given moment or day she (as in Selina Kyle or Catwoman) might completely feel differently later. HER (as in the ENTIRETY of Selina Kyle AND Catwoman) moods were truly hard to predict, but completely understandable when decisions were made by her. Selina never did anything that Catwoman would abhor. Catwoman would never do anything that Selina found in poor taste. Truly, SHE was one in the same…
Much unlike himself… The Bat vs. Bruce Wayne.
Screw that. He understood her psychological drive – he wasn’t here to question his own… He was here to check in on the wounded Kryptonian and just so happened to run head first into Catwoman. Not a BAD surprise, by ANY means – but? A surprise none the less.
“Not interested in how you’re exiting this cave. More so interested in WHY you got here.” The Bat then stated through that awkward silence.
“Consider the fact that I know stumbling into discovery of this cave wasn’t your first priority of your M.O.” The Bat remained totally within the comfort of the shadows – lurking and leering in slowly bleeding manner.
And yet as he did manage to subtly move into the dim lighting – once more, Catwoman would see the totally legitimate wear and tear on his armored batsuit. Even the smallest and yet specific amount of flesh he chose to show – being his chiseled jaw – depicted a steady stream of blood dripping down from his lips. He looked as though he most definitely had quite a night so far. Razor sharp perfectly white thinly slit gaze made no deviation from her own sparkling emerald one.
“So spill it. Why are you here?”
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Post by Selina Kyle - Catwoman on Sept 24, 2015 1:52:36 GMT -5
Green eyes just watched him quietly as he shuffled into view. Because that is what he did. He shuffled. He looked like hell. He was using that voice on her, and she just couldn't give a shit. After their last little meeting at his office. Their truce. And then...he's just gone. It's not like there is anything concrete there, between them. Or that there is anything at all, other than what there has been, which is a lot of grey and bullshit, crossing lines and pushing boundaries. Teasing. Violence. And quite a lot of emotion. While she is used to toying and playing with others, being on the receiving end is something entirely different for her.
So while she is about to just nod, strap on her cowl and gloves and just..go, risking the way she came, he has to go and say that. Still fully geared up. Part of her is screaming that Boyscout was in on this, and he's just playing her. Hard.
Knowing that tiny shift, she is more than aware he's watching her. Scanning her. Something. As he wavered half in shadow, half in the light, she stood there, now leaning partially against his desk, her ass firmly planted against it's edge as if she could draw some sort of inner peace or strength from it's stability. And while she let his words hang in the air a beat too long, she slowly went to pull on her gloves. Supple leather with a few tricks here and there, they felt like armor against his words. And moreso, a barrier against his very being. To shield her from whatever inquisitive questions he was going to volley her way. First the right, and then the left, flexing her fingers one, by one, by one, until they were settled across her hands and wrists like she liked. Ignoring him with all the carelessness in the world, as if her task at hand (quite literally) was the most important thing. As her namesake would deem it. Finally, he spoke again, and her green eyes fixed on him. Blandly she took in his shadow-on-shadow form, and shrugged. She didn't owe him a damn thing. And even if she coughed up the truth, hell, would he believe it? Superman had, because he was a metahuman. No, not even that. He was an alien that could do who knew what. And even then, he'd doubted her.
So while the silence still hung between them, she continued her wordlessness and drew in a breath. So he knew she got in. But he know the why? Did he care? If he honestly had cameras, why didn't he just review those instead of quizzing her on how and why and where, along with her motives.
Even as the walkie-talkie she's taken was still behind her, she shifted slightly to slip a hand behind her to re-clip it to her own belt. And even when he fully moved from the shadow, the sight of his maimed face did little other than cause her eyes to narrow; green slits nearly mimicking his white gaze.
He was such....a bastard. There was no way around it. For him to not see her, in one form, or the other, no word, no call, no letter, and now this? A purely happenstance situation lands her right in the lion's den. Or the asshole's garden. Whichever. So almost to mock him, her own pink tongue darts over those ruby red lips to slowly wet them, before she takes the one, two, then three strides to cover the distance between them. Fingertips are on him in a moment, leather-clad and shifting along well known paths, craving that familiarity. Sure, he's bleeding. Sure, she's pissed.
Sure, she hasn't said a word to him. And even as her fingertips move along his ribs, she can tell, and just barely at that, there is some sort of injury there. He's not just keeping up a facade, he's trying to hold things together. So perhaps, while he may be curious, honestly, about how she got here, she glance up at him, her face a clear picture of concern.
"Drone and security I wasn't expecting in the tunnel. My normal gear couldn't get him off my case. I found the doorway, accidentally. It's a lot of long, dark hallway. Found Superman here, which was shocking. He left. He was just as confused as I was, considering this, was not my objective. I'd prefer to leave a different route. Let you heal up. We can chat later." She's not exactly friendly in her short expose. And even as she talks, the metallic shhhk of claws being triggered is barely heard as her fingertips are pressed flush to his suit. And one thing he is aware of, is that the material is hardly a barrier for the upgraded material she had her claws updated with. She'd have to thank Luthor later on for that little favor, as he'd not asked a damn question when she'd inquired about a certain alloy compound he'd been working on in one of his project labs. She'd just had to hand over specifications, and then...she'd had the beautiful new claws.
Feeling them slip like a warm knife through butter beyond the barrier of his suit, she let a wicked smile blossom on her face. A smile that never reached her eyes.
"Nice to see you again, too, Bruce." Was all she intoned.
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Last Edit: Oct 6, 2015 8:22:02 GMT -5 by Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2015 8:21:34 GMT -5
It never failed for it to be this way between the two of them. The (for lack of a better term) relationship Batman had with Catwoman was absolutely predictable in its unpredictability. Kind of like taking comfort in the universal truth that the only CONSTANT in life is CHANGE. That’s what they were – dancing the dangerous waltz of jousting together within the calming eye of a perfect storm.
God. What the hell was she doing here on this night of all nights, anyway?
He was already good and pissed off when he gave indirect permission for Superman to take a breather of refuse in this particular satellite batcave of his. And randomly, suddenly Catwoman just so happens to do the uninvited “pop-in” too? The biotech logistics of his high tech armored batsuit suddenly and privately alerted him that he would now be injected with a mild pain killer fused with antibiotics in lieu of his body’s overall life stats. A blink-of-an-eye subtle tap was instantly given from his index finger to its glove pad in order to reject the pain killer medication, but keep the antibiotic injection active. He WANTED to feel the physical pain that wracked through his body with each breath he took.
Somehow… He was trying to convince himself that by feeling the hurt of his physical wounds, it would numb out the emotional hurt and shame he felt from being in the wrong over his avoidance and stoic apathy he had recently taken to treating Selina with. Months ago, he had made it a point to stay in touch with Selina (in more ways than one) keeping her within close reach at all times, becoming a presence within her life… Not just as Batman. But as Bruce.
As Bruce Wayne, he invited Selina Kyle to random gala events, fundraisers, even set up some business ventures between Wayne Enterprises Inc. and Black Cat Securities. Even as Batman, he had kept her – as in Catwoman her – informed for things that only she would be able to know, contacted her for underground information only she would be privy to, even partnered up with her to handle vigilante justice in the way that only the two of them could.
And then?
Gone.
Not like he hinted or announced his sudden departure from her life in every single way and form possible. He was just… Gone. Sure, he could blame his sudden drop off the face of the planet from her on the fact that he’s a multi-billionaire CEO with an endlessly busy schedule. People to dine, places to buy – that sort of “shallow, rich playboy” thing. But… She knew better than to accept that excuse – he had opened up to her and disproved that sort of headline stealer reputation. Hey, he could also use the excuse of taking the responsibility of being Gotham’s own Dark Knight by playing vigilante to bring justice to this city on a nightly (sometimes – very seldom sometimes) basis. But… Again, she knew better. She knew better because they both shared that sort of nightlife together – not always on the same side and not always against each other. But they shared that fence.
And in truth? That’s why he really became a mere faded memory in her life… Bruce had chosen to CLAIM his side of the proverbial fence in his vigilante fight for justice as the Batman. He knew where he stood and what his alignment truly was… He alone guarded that fence, standing tall between the worlds of lawful justice and immoral injustice. He simply kept GUARD of the fence and that suited him just fine. … Until Selina came along… Walking atop his tightly guarded fence – neither claiming to be lawfully just or immorally unjust. She simply claimed to BE.
Sure, Catwoman was a thief, she also affiliates herself with some of the worst of the worst underground criminals in the city – therefor she belongs on the immorally unjust side of the fence. But… Catwoman also helps the weak and innocent in need, she also gives those in need and dire straits what she has in order to help, therefor she belongs on the lawfully just side of the fence. But wait. She provides the destitute with wealth she has illegally stolen… But it comes from those who wouldn’t miss such minor fortunes gone missing and it goes to those where that minor fortune given now makes it possible for them to have a second or even a first chance at life. … She, Catwoman, she Selina Kyle, she walks along the fence.
How does a guard of such a fence react? There is always a book, website, field of study, master of profession that can be consulted when it comes for him to figure out black and white, lawful and unlawful problem. Always an answer. But to figure out something grey? A possibility that falls into neither or both sides at the same time? Nothing. It left him feeling unprepared, uncertain, unable to predict the next move of his opponent. It… scared him. It… excited him.
So he dropped out of contact with Selina and Catwoman entirely. He buried himself in his work, both day and night jobs. And as the days passed and time moved on? The fear, the excitement… Faded. Until. Now. Face to face, cowl mask to cowl mask, Bat to Cat, Bruce to Selina. Everything came to a head the very instant his own steely blue gaze so protectively hidden behind his mask’s thin white eyehole slits made direct contact with those ever-knowing, endlessly deep emerald green gaze of hers. For a split second he suddenly felt pain free and absolutely unstoppable meeting her gaze.
Then she spoke, answering him just as stoically and informatively as he himself would sound to a victim or an informant. All business. She, he realized, was practically doing a parody of him – and doing a damned good job at too! And then she moved, slinking in that liquid steel sort of way she so effortlessly did. Before he could register just what her “no-nonsense, just the facts ma’am” explanation stated, her lithe, feline form clad in that form fitting black, sleek attire only her specialized catsuit had, she was pressed right up against him.
Muscles tightened. Heart quickened. But even the high-tech armor equipped batsuit was no match in protecting him from the heat and supple curve that she brandished while now placing herself tentatively against him. Toying with him. She knew where and how to touch. Now crept that all-too familiar fear deep down within… Now crept that all-too familiar excitement deep down within…
“Drone.” Although he meant it as a question, the dark growl of his digitally altered voice seemed to more so bark out the word. For the moment being, he would place the question of ‘WHY she was sneaking about a WayneTech Security warehouse with intent to break in on the backburner for now. And he wasn’t even sure if he would even address the whole Superman ordeal. She truly caught his full attention with her rundown of what happened.
“WayneTech Security doesn’t have or operate security enforcement drones. Not now and not ever.” Ignoring the way her gloved hands slid ever so delicately along the torso of his chest plate, slinking down towards his ribs – he held back the immediate flinch that his body wanted to give into considering he was well aware of harboring 2 broken ribs with a 3rd severely bruised.
“Also, this location hasn’t been authorized to deploy additional security guards for subterranean stationing.” He paused, running several scenarios through his mind each containing some sort of unknown variable. He had a small haunch that began to gnaw at his gut. “What color uniform was security wearing?” He suddenly asked, point blank.
Suddenly, the white slit eyehole lenses of his masked cowl retracted to reveal his own icy blue penetrating gaze – meeting her own this time without any sort of cover to hide behind. “Selina, there is no security team authorized to guard the subterranean levels of this warehouse.”
Timing couldn’t have been better. No sooner had the words left his lips when he would suddenly feel the razor steel sharp pierce of her gloves’ retractable claws slice right through armor mesh batsuit and right into his upper torso, just along the ridges of his rib cage. Like a scalding hot knife through butter. At this sudden attack of pain on his already battered and bruised body (only injecting antibiotics considering he declined the pain medication his suit offered) he winced, baring the whites of his teeth.
A sharp gasp of air was sucked in to help handle the sudden and unexpected pain. Okay. He deserved that. Low blow. But then again, didn’t he start the whole fighting dirty with her anyway?
“Fuck.” He hissed out beneath his breath.
With that? He shoved himself away from her – almost more out of reaction than protection.
“New upgrades, I see.” He steadied himself and then wiped the small slowing stream of faint blood from his unshaven jaw with the back of his hand.
“Thanks for the warning.”
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Post by Selina Kyle - Catwoman on Oct 6, 2015 12:08:17 GMT -5
He kept asking her questions as she stared up into those eyes of his. Drone. Blah Blah Security this. Blah blah whatever. Not even bothering to shrug her shoulders up at him. So, there was someone else roaming around. Still, not her problem. It was, and would be her problem when it caused her to nearly get caught, and be flushed into this unknown cave, and encounter someone other than it's standard inhabitant. Superman? That was not ok.
So when her claws made contact, she felt the recoil as they sank not only through his protective chainmail, but beyond into flesh. Maybe it should have been a shock to her, but she was being driven purely by anger. And further than that anger? Hurt. Selina Kyle was a woman more moved by pain than anger, even though the two were so closely linked it necessitated a doctor to distinguish that fine, fine line for her.
She was mad that Bruce had left her, after drawing her so close after so many years. She was hurt that Batman finally bared his wounds to her, not only his heart. She was hurt that Bruce Wayne, the man beyond the fop and the mask of the evening, had trusted her, and opened up his world to her, despite their glaring differences, and had ceased contact with her.
It was just a huge slap in the face. And for once in her life, words couldn't be found. Instead, her body took over, going through the familiar, intimate motions she would take be they on rooftop, or alley, or maybe even in his own study. But she was not in heels and a dress, or even fully her catsuit. Her mask had been torn off as a show of petulance with Superman being in a place she last thought she'd spy him, accusing her of bullshit she only took from Batman's lips.
And now? Now she'd done this. Instead of pulling her claws from his side, his left side, fingertips triggered the mechanism to pull them back quickly, already coated with his blood. And barely in time, as he shoved her away, putting a good amount of distance between them.
Swallowing harshly, she tore the gloves off, throwing them on the ground at their feet, each question, no statement he artfully phrased as a question to her, rattled in her brain.
"You don't get a warning, Bruce. I never got a warning. You expect me to take what happened, when I found you, what I found out about you? How we sort of said, but didn't say about us knowing who we were? And then...you ghost me. Of all things, you went and ghosted me, for whatever reason. It doesn't matter. I'll answer your questions. I'll leave. You take care of things just like you've taken care of them before. I'll flit along, and we'll have our run in's like always. I'll see you at the next benefit, or dinner, or whatever. You have enough women clamoring at you that you can use to cover. Good luck with the harpies, and talking about cars." She spat at him, moving to grab her cowl, and the rest of the things she had haphazardly dropped here or there in her entrance to the room, and subsequent face-off with of all people, fucking Superman.
"Clark says 'hi.' Good to know boyscout will hold up on everything but the frisking when he finds me in here. Third degree and everything. Worse costume. Thankfully your's isn't' entirely made of spandex. Then again, you aren't some god, are you?" She sneered, turning on him.
"If you, or WayneTech doesn't have drones, then they're someone's. There are at least three human uniform wearing men that saw me down here. They were in blue." Pursing her red lips, she didn't know what that even mattered. She'd seen his own men in Blue, Black, and mostly in a deep, steely grey uniform, always emblazoned with the WE emblem in some iteration or another. Nor was it like he knew anyone, well, other than himself who was skilled in security jargon and all that nonsense. Nope. No one.
"So, it seems you have a little problem." Her whisper started, as loud as a scream in the chamber they were in. "Good thing I grabbed a walkie-talkie off the one I knocked out. They probably thought I disappeared into thin air. All the better. You reverse engineer that, or whatever you want to your heart's content. Better make sure it's not being tracked before your little hidie hole is found, though."
She continued to spit vitriol at him, green eyes glued to the pain that showed on his face. He probably shouldnt've pulled away from her claws as she was retracting them. It probably left a larger wound than need be. Then again, she knew her 'upgrades' worked.
Clearing her throat, not even bothering to put a hand on her hip, she shrugged, meeting his blue eyes again.
"How do I get out of here?"
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Post by Deleted on Oct 6, 2015 14:20:30 GMT -5
And there the dangerous waltz of cat and mouse they danced to in perfect stride and rhythm would now reach its graceful climax. Tit for tat. Cat and Bat. Bruce. Selina. He wasn’t exactly sure which caused him the most pain – the undeniably truthful words she spat at him, or the undeniably razor sharp claws complete with newly added upgrades. Mental note: Re-enforce chainmail mesh of batsuit. He would most definitely be prepared for her unforgettable bladed swipe the next time.
Should he…? Do it or not? He gave momentary pause to silently debate activating his masked cowl’s eyehole white lenses to give guard and secrecy of his striking blue eyed gaze belonging to the man behind the mask. After all, Selina’s own cat masked cowl was completely off, freely exposing the woman beneath. And yet, somehow that fact before him seemed more intimidating than he’d ever admit to anyone.
“Selina…” He finally spoke – digital voice altering was deactivated, his true tone heard and exposed directly to her, for her. “You of all people know how this lifestyle can become… Complicated.” Another auto-injection of antibiotics was administer from the internal stores of his batsuit’s biotech system. Again and without hesitation he denied any use of pain medication. He had penance to pay.
“What are you expecting to happen between us? Where do you see things between us going? Show up as Kyle and Wayne to whatever extravagant event the Gotham Elite is throwing not just as new business partners, but as what? Boyfriend and girlfriend? Gotham’s Prom King and Queen for the lavish lifestyles of the rich and famous? Better yet – becoming a partnership as Bat and Cat? Claiming OUR jurisdiction of the night by means of alleyway and rooftop patrolling?”
He then moved directly in front of her, despite his injuries from his prior events this night along with the addition of her own signature touch. He removed his masked cowl in front of her, locking eyes with her, exposing his truest form to her. “You know who and what I am. What I stand for. And what I will always be. Just like I know who and what you are and what you choose to be. Nothing will change that fact. If you are seeking some sort of set definition or label to call whatever this, US, is – whatever it is that we have from me – then you’re in for a rude awakening. Because my terms and beliefs won’t fit into your grey world. Vigilante justice is what I am. Not morally questionable.”
He suddenly grabbed her gloved hand tightly about her wrist the moment she retracted those lovely bladed claws of hers.
“So… We do what? Continue the same old routine, right? Is that what you really want? Me playing the part of the rich playboy philanthropist, you playing the part of the driven independent business woman, right? We do the rooftop meet and greets as Bat and Cat – both of us secretly hoping not to run into one another – even though we actually, secretly, hope that we do, right? Because I can’t do that game anymore. Not now. Not after all that’s happened, all we’ve been through. But… I can’t give you what you want either...” He released his python grip, letting her hand drop.
The left side of his lower chest was burning with white hot pain. Shit, the woman definitely always knows just how and where to strike, didn’t she? He then stepped back from her – his fierce, brutally honest words left out for the ever-present silence to slowly devour bit by bit. Truthfully, he tentatively took interest in having that declared and titled lifestyle with her – being a couple romantically and professionally, sharing the rooftops and streets each night, waking up next to her each day. But that was a fool-hardy wishful dream.
He certainly didn’t like the current lifestyle he had been living since, (how did she put it? “Ghosting” her?) he dropped off her radar completely and unexpectedly. It had made him feel empty somehow, made him use his anger to fill that endless void she left in his world. Whatever they were, are, could be – it was uncertain. The one thing he WAS certain about was the fact that he wanted her to be a part of his world… Even if she only kept herself in pure balance atop that fence he so fiercely guarded. The fence was worth guarding with her walking upon it.
“Superman is only making a cameo appearance in Gotham with my permission, by my request. Two days, max. Then he’s gone. God or not, this is MY city. He plays by MY rules only.” He growled out, now shifting his icy focus to the digital computer console set up she had been leaning against.
“…His choice to wear what he does is all on him.” He became silent as he stared at the computer screen, back and side facing her. “…Almost went with calling him “the Smurf” but… The guy throws one hell of a mean left hook. “Boyscout” was my second choice of nickname. He’s definitely not a Gotham-friendly hero. Too… Bright and shiny. Hurts my eyes if I look directly at him for too long. Damned alien was tailor made to protect Metropolis. Lucky them.” It was his feeble attempt at humor – even though his words came out more like cranky statements. Bruce leaned forward towards the glowing computer monitor and began to swipe at the flat screen, pulling up video captured surveillance from the security cameras installed beneath the warehouse.
To his shock, the feed of the security tapes for that night showed nothing but empty cargo tunnel entry ways – all passages to the warehouse from the freight elevators were locked and secure. No images of any security personnel or security drones were seen. All was quiet. Way too quiet.
“This feed has been looped.” He stated with an ominously dark tone. The anger of the beast was starting to rise. He then arched a dark brow upon hearing Selina’s answer for his question about the color of uniform that the security guards were wearing when she bumped into them.
“Blue.” White, hot, seething rage boiled up from deep within his core. "WayneTech security guard uniforms are standard grey. They have always been standard grey." The physical pain that throbbed within his body suddenly became numb as he steeled his muscles in bristling fashion. “I’ve been hacked and infiltrated.” He began to furiously type a serious of coded commands into his console – clearly executing some sort of failsafe system lockout procedure to salvage whatever security he could from this warehouse as well as arming and securing all other WayneTech warehouses.
The masked cowl with twin bat pointed tips and one rather fierce scowl etched into the face was pulled back on. Bruce was now gone. In his place now stood the Bat. He faced her, glaringly white thin slits now peered out at her from the eyeholes of his mask.
“Get your mask on. Any personal plans you had for tonight? Cancel'em. Only way you can get outta’ here is by coming with me. Since you were so thorough in breaking into the subterranean access ways of this warehouse, you’re the best person for the job to break into three more WayneTech security warehouse underground entry ways without causing any alarm or suspicion. Need to do a logistics check to see just how much WayneTech Security has been compromised.”
He quickly walked over to the makeshift medical bay of the cave and began to speedily administer some much needed first aid to the most serious of his wounds. He finished within a matter of moments and wasted no time in making his way to a cleverly hidden exit/entry way – different from the one Selina had used to get inside the cave.
“Good thing you decided to get those upgrades. You’re gonna’ need’em.”
With that? He opened the passageway before her, exposing a seaside view and fresh cool night air from an alcove nestled within the East End docks.
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Post by Selina Kyle - Catwoman on Oct 12, 2015 5:17:00 GMT -5
She saw a wall of white. In the dark, dark cave, her vision blurred, and all she saw was white in all the darkness. He was pulling his holier-than-thou, self righteous bullshit again, just like he had done months, no, years before. Not too far off, but something close enough to warrant them coupling up for a moment or two for some 'greater' good. In this case? She'd happened upon something amuck in his own turf, and he didn't like it. Nor could he exactly weasel his way into tight places that she could. Where she was a sylph in the dark, he was a dark, imposing Goliath, made to be seen. Fuck him. For broaching their topic here, now, especially after she'd gone and stabbed him in the side, where he was already wounded. And knowing the man, and knowing Bruce, he had debated the choice of taking a numbing non-addictive narcotic he probably engineered with some branch of WayneCorp-at least three times. And turned it down just as many. That suit of his was mind-numbingly neurotic, just like the man housed beneath it's layers. Pulling herself up to her full five foot nine, with the brief heel in her boots, she stared him down the best she could, green eyes narrowing. She'd thrown her gloves down in anger, despite proclaiming she wanted out of here. It wasn't that she was claustrophobic; she'd journeyed down the damn tunnel-like hall to get here. It was that his insufferable need to proclaim what was, and what is, and what had to be, and what should be was suffocating her. And that, coupled with her white-hot anger was making her act stupid. Where did she see them? Not this. Not how they were acting. Which was like children with very, very psychotic skills and deadly tools at hand, with short, lit fuses. And she'd already struck the first match. Or had he, by failing to disclose another hidey hole of his own to her? That she'd ironically found, with an unmasked cape in it, from another city? It all stank of some backup plan he had tucked away for a rainy day. Or she'd come upon a lot of things by sheer luck, which was only slightly more believable. Slightly. Barely. Flexing her hands from balling them into a fist, nails carving semi-moon shaped indents into her palm, she was almost to the point of shaking she was so livid. The white hot anger was transmuted through her veins into something else. Maybe even adrenaline, if you wanted to get technical about it all. But that really wasn't her sort of kink; she was more an intuitive sort, going based on her gut feeling, as well as what she could see before her very eyes. But when you were dealing with shadows, and black hiding against them, you had to go with what you could suss out with feeling; intuition and experience. It was a convoluted mix, and with Bruce involved, there was always a catalyst she could never count on; it may explode and take a turn for the violent, or end up with them entangled on a rooftop passionately somewhere. This time it had taken hold after the former, not the latter. In the blink of an eye, he was before her, mere inches away, tense. He shed his own cowl, and she knew that was not an easy thing to take off. With all his damn precautions and tech lacing the headgear; she just knew he was trying to make a statement. And then, he kept talking. A lecture this time couched in false sentiment. They hadn't had time to discuss any of this, considering he had just gone off and left. She'd had more than enough time to ponder things. How was this going to work? How would they deal with such profound knowledge, knowing that he was Gotham's Golden child, and it's darkest savior at the same time? Did he not understand-just not get that it could work? Had he not been paying the fuck attention to what she had been turning her own heists to? No. Whatever he'd been preoccupied with had distracted him to the point of not giving a fuck. When he released her hand, it was almost like a slap to the face instead of slight muscle changes. He could say more in one shift of a limb than most politicians did on a televised event. Considering he was going on to almost defend Superman and his choice of attire, and then gripe at him in the same breath, she just wanted to slap him. "That's not what Lex has told me..." She finally stated. And that's all it was; stated. There was some sort of tension she'd rather the two men worked out on their own time. Perhaps it was because Lex had come in to try and repair Bruce's city. Perhaps it was because Alexander Luthor was succeeding at the task. And that Bruce's pride was injured over another man coming onto his turf, and doing his work. Well, that certainly struck her as something that Bruce, and Batman would get in a funk over. But she'd let him suss that out. Not her problem. Even if it had been some sort lame attempt to lighten the mood between them, it had failed. No smile was toying with her mouth, and the cold gleam from her eyes was still there. He'd lectured her on how she should feel, and what could and could not happen between them. What else was there to really say on the whole thing? And even before she could sneak in a word, or an opinion on any of what he said, he was already back into business mode, cowl or not. The cameras had been pulled up on his console, the feed eerily not what she had seen in those dark tunnels. Not at all. Her jaw tensed as she grit her teeth, still silent as he ran the show. It would maybe tip him off to the depth of her pain, occluded with anger, from her lack of witty, flirtatious comebacks. And then there it was. His own anger at realizing his toys were being messed with. And like she was supposed to give a shit about what sort of uniform his employees were wearing? She had had better things to do this evening, but now she was even being ordered around like she was some sort of sidekick. Which she clearly wasn't, and couldn't be, as he'd even told her mere moments ago. He then strode over to deal with the marks from her claws, thankfully upgraded thanks to her small role in Metropham. As she stayed rooted to the ground, she watched him open another hidden doorway. And expected her to just...go. "For what?" She started. The simplest of questions. "You know I'm not one of your sidekicks?" Another question. "I'm also not canine themed, so I don't just follow orders?" She was getting warmed up, and not in the way he would be thinking. "I don't fight crime. I may hinder it, but I don't go out and actively try to stop it." A brief pause, maybe a second. "I'm not a crimefighter. I don't even like confrontation when I'm doing my own thing."She was calm, or at least appeared to be. He looked rather asinine standing there, expecting her to waltz out the door before him, so he could seal up the hidden satellite cave behind them both. "I even pointed out that I was able to jack one of the walkie-talkies. Why not use that, first? Maybe I'll take my own way out, considering you already told me what I could, and couldn't do, and clearly, where we both stand. How could I ever figure out not only where my heart stands, but my mind!?" Bare hands clasped over her chest dramatically. "My god, Batman, thank you sooooo much for saving me! For telling me where I should do my crimes, and how I should do them!" She pantomimed, mimicking many of the women he had dated, or saved, or whatever, as the Fop. She'd kept quiet long enough through his diatribe, and now she was going to speak her piece. "Yes, I'm aware how all of this can get complicated. I'm aware, of what has been going on for years between us. Maybe you can see, now that you know who I am behind all this, that I'm not exactly a morally corrupt person. I steal. Yes. Do I kill? No. Do I go out seeking to disrupt and swindle and fuck over the people that are lucky enough to not even have to dabble in this screwed up double-think life? No. Out of all the masks, the crazies, the Mob, the goons-whatever you want to label them, I'm pretty low on the watch list. I steal. And if you'd even been paying attention, you'd find out that-that I haven't even been doing that! That I have been utilizing my company as it should be, and reverse-engineering everything I do in leather, for a decent purpose. The same fun, the same challenge I once had stealing, I'm getting my kicks elsewhere. But no. No, you've been off gods know where, send in the Boyscout to babysit, and after you divulge who the FUCK you are, hire me on to your company, you just up and leave. Now if that wasn't a great mindfuck, I don't know what is. And now you're asking-no, telling me that we're going to team up just like when the FBI took over, with a 'Let's head to China!' line. Well, this time? I'm not being trailed by the FBI, and you have not a goddamn thing to hold over my head or to coerce me with."Swallowing roughly, her hands fell to her sides, as she crouched in one fell swoop to gather her gloves, and fallen cowl. Leather balled in one first, she stood. "What do we do about us? This?" She motioned between the two of them. "We talk about it like adults. We come to some sort of compromise. That means finding a middle ground of sorts, because I'm pretty sure you've never heard of the word in your fucking life. Maybe you dial down the bullshit act when you're at those events, maybe we start being seen public ally a bit more. Like this? Maybe we keep up the charade, because I'm pretty damn sure you don't want your cover blown as Bruce Wayne, and enough of our mutual acquaintances are already going to wonder why the fuck I'd be settling with Mr. Wayne, of all people, most of them not being Batman. So it will no doubt involve another level of charade and subterfuge, but maybe, just MAYBE might allow for a bit of damn happiness in your fucking excuse for a life, Bruce."Shaking her head slightly, green eyes narrow the contact to those blue ones. "Or, we can just do what you stated, without any involvement from me. With no input, no feeling, not a damn thing from me. We can just follow your fucking protocols, and go on like you never invited me over to the mansion, like I've never seen you at that alley, like you've never helped me recover from one of the top three worst hangovers I've ever had in my life not on Gotham soil." Finally she breaks contact, head turning to the side. That whole night is still bits and pieces of blur and rambling, and copious amounts of alcohol. "So, we've got options. We can do therapy. We can figure this out, or we can't, or we find an alternate option. But you can't just leave, and then demand I go sniff out these impostors because I'm at the right place at the right fucking time. I'm not your sidekick, I'm not your dog, I'm not even your fucking girlfriend. So if you want me to help, you can maybe apologize first, and set thing tentatively right, before I 'help' you with my 'upgrades', and maybe, just maybe go break into three more warehouses."Not able to fight the overwhelming urge, she spat on the floor between their feet. And if anything, she felt worse, and just really, really wanted a cigarette.
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Registered On: Mar 29, 2024 5:39:16 GMT -5 ~
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2016 23:37:04 GMT -5
Damn. Selina hit the very center of the bullseye in her protest against the way he treated her. She wasn’t a member of the Bat Family, nor was she even known to be one of Gotham’s crime fighting masked vigilantes, and she certainly had never made Gotham Gazette headlines with the status announcing her as officially being the exclusive girlfriend Bruce Wayne. What she was…? Well, she was extraordinary, that much was a given. Harnessing impressive talents as a successful businesswoman running her own self-made company, displaying heartfelt charm and relatability to the public as philanthropist when donating to charity, showcasing flawless poise and panache with her own elegant, unique style whenever gracing the social circles of Gotham’s elite rich, and of course possessing raw, tenacious power along with a set of mastered skills not to be reckoned with whenever she chose (at leisure) to come out at night and play as Catwoman.
And then…
There was HER, the HER that had managed to do the unthinkable and damned near impossible – she had not only found the way to get to his heart, breaking down his seemingly indestructible guarded walls one barrier at a time to create a pathway only she could walk, she had also earned her right to claim a sacred space of her very own to forever have kept safe within his heart. No other woman had ever managed to reach that level with him before, and he suspected that no other woman in this lifetime would ever be able to. Just Selina Kyle. Only Selina Kyle. So what exactly were they?
Funny, he had no problem labeling and defining everything else in his life, living in a compartmentalized world of blacks and whites. Good. Bad. Sick. Cured. Right. Wrong. And then? Enter Selina Kyle aka Catwoman – who brought in with her a god damned raging cyclone that unleashed every shade of grey ever known, unexpectedly turning his black and white world upside down with the perfect storm. He watched her in silence a for a moment, it was clear she wasn’t about to budge an inch any time soon. A quick, subtle push on the specialized, hidden computer console woven cleverly into the forearm armor of his gauntlet-like glove he wore was then administered. The secretive and invisible newly opened satellite cave’s doorway now closed in silent response, dimming the light a bit within the already darkly lit cave.
Timing was both working for and against him. It was great timing to have run into her randomly at this satellite bat cave due to the discovery of a security breach that had apparently occurred right under his nose to WayneTech Security some time ago. It was bad timing that he happened to meet up with her just as of NOW after he had dropped off the radar for quite some time since their last intimate meeting – thus now making her demand some sort sane explanation that would at best clarify just what their relationship was with one another, masks on or off.
“Selina,” Bruce replied in that digitally altered voice made possible by the specialized tech hidden within his batsuit’s cowl to help conceal his secret identity. “Look… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to bring himself to say, let alone out loud, let alone to her.
“If you’re looking for me to define what it is we have together, what we are together… I’m not sure if I can. The last time we spent together started my obsession to find a label for us, a specific category, or at the very least some understanding that offers clear guidelines. And when I couldn’t come to any plausible definition? I chose to step away… Figuring maybe things would just work themselves out through logical outcomes. Maybe I’d come to realize that what I felt for you was nothing more than a strong physical attraction, and that’s maybe what you would come to realize that was all you felt for me – if I completely removed myself from the picture for a fair amount of time to reach a conclusion. Idea seemed logical and fair at the time when I did it. Now that I’m back… I can’t believe how stupid I was to think things would be fixed and like it never happened.”
Slowly he lifted his gloved hands to remove his mask and let it hang down against his neck and shoulders, his unshaven face sharp and firm now fully exposed for her and to her alone. His voice now normal once more with his masked cowl removed, seeing and hearing the man beneath the suit.
“Because what I feel for you is much more than some strong physical attraction, I knew it back then on the day I left but just wasn’t able to admit it to myself. Now seeing you here, seeing you as both the cat and the woman you are, seeing you for what you are, for WHO you are – it’s impossible for me to deny it any longer. I love you, Selina.”
Bladed steel blue eyes searched to meet her own enchanting cat-like stare.
“I can handle missions, operations, give commands and orders. They simply require taking the right type of effective action. But handling emotions, desires, or dreams I’m at a complete loss. Hell, you mentioned about having ‘happiness’ in my life? I don’t even know what that is.”
He now stepped closer to her. “I just know that you’re the closest thing to it that I’ve ever had for a long time in my life. If I ever had it.” He watched her a moment and then lowered that fierce gaze of his away from her.
“I… owe you much more than I can maybe even try to give. But… I want to try. You’re right – you’re not some member of the Bat Family to be used at my disposal. And you’re not and never will be my sidekick, or a protégé in training. You’re not even Catwoman or Selina Kyle to me anymore. You are Selina, the woman I love.”
Turning his head to the side, as if the screen of the bat cave’s computer suddenly became super important and demanded his attention, his words dropped off into silence – allowing a moment or two to sink in. He finally ended the awkward quietness between, speaking firmly once more.
“If making this, US, actually work means taking whatever measures you mentioned like going public in gradually revealing the budding romance between Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle to become an exclusive relationship? Then fine. I’ll do it. Having more discussion over other possible methods we both agree on to make US work? Great, it’s first on my schedule. Doing therapy…” He clenched his jaw and then briefly massaged his on the side of his head. “… As a dead last and final resort to make US work? … Fuck it. Why the hell not at that point?”
He shifted his focus once more back onto her – his objective of stopping the security breach not at all forgotten, it had simply taken second priority to the new objective at hand: giving the respect and best explanation he owed to Selina for quite some time now.
“So this is me giving you the apology I owe you for the bullshit I caused for us both. This is also me doing my best to make things right – but at this point, I’d settle for making things at least just between us. If that means you washing your hands and walking away from this, US, all of it – then I get it. My only expectation has already been met – I finally got to tell you how I truly feel about you, how I’ve always felt about you.”
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