Post by grimknight on Mar 8, 2012 3:00:39 GMT -5
In the complex life of Bruce Wayne, such an irony like coincidence truly just didn’t exist. Not even remotely. Bruce was walking along the bustling streets of downtown Gotham; more specifically he was swiftly evading the following paparazzi who were trying to discreetly follow him as Bruce made his way towards the legal district within the downtown square. Gotham’s massive and gothic courthouse loomed before him, standing out before the incredulously tall skyscrapers filled with business offices behind it.
For as enormous as Gotham was given how many, many, many tall, grim, and gothic-styled buildings that populated the gritty city, a certain sense of claustrophobia wasn’t uncommon to out-of-town visitors. But for a Son of Gotham like Bruce Wayne, the dense architecture and thick population didn’t faze him one bit – he preferred it, actually. He knew the side streets, alleyways, and hidden passages better than the original city planners did. After all, he wasn’t just a fun-loving philanthropist billionaire playboy – that was his day job. His night job? Well… He had what could almost be considered as a rather intimate relationship with Gotham, the dark sister city to Metropolis.
He was hanging around the judicial region of downtown for a reason – he was there to “inadvertently” meet up with an old and close childhood friend: Gotham’s ADA, Rachel Dawes. It had been 3 years since he had last spoke to Rachel or even seen her, for that matter. It was during his birthday party in one of his many owned extravagant city flats. The last encounter he had with her hadn’t been a positive one… Bruce had been “drunk” and ended up making a complete asshole out of himself by stripping naked before all of his party guests and attempting to ride the frozen tiger ice sculpture that had been specially carved as décor for his party. He even attempted to invite one of his three (yes three) dates onto the ice sculpture to ride with him; when the model he was “dating” slapped him and stormed out, he turned his attention to the disapproving Rachel Dawes, offering her a ride. Needless to say, his “drunken” antics had brought a quick end to his birthday bash – which was precisely what he wanted given the dark mission he had to endure that same night.
Of course, no one knew Bruce was faking his drunkenness, no one knew that the apple martinis were simply just apple juice and the Jager Bomber shots were simply just Red Bull and nothing more, and no one especially knew that the moment Bruce was alone he shifted gears and became the Batman – heading out into the night to stop the Joker from unleashing his toxic and deadly laughing gas in a widespread release all over the city with intent to have the citizens of Gotham laugh themselves to death while he took to blowing up those gothic, massive skyscrapers one by one.
Because Bruce Wayne had acted like a drunken fool at his birthday party 3 years ago, ending the event early in creating such an offensive spectacle, the citizens of Gotham lived due to Batman being able to thwart and capture the Joker in the nick of time. But, because Bruce Wayne had acted like a drunken fool at his birthday party 3 years ago, ending the event early in creating such an offensive spectacle, he had greatly disappointed Rachel as well as hurt her feelings with some of the uncouth words he said to her. He had to be that disorderly though, had to be so offensive and crass – especially to Rachel as Rachel, being the kind, caring, sensitive amazingly good friend she is, was trying to offer her help to Alfred in wrangling Bruce down as well as help clean up the mess Bruce had made of things.
The last words Bruce had said to her were, “C’mon Rachel… It’s not gonna’ be pity sex. You’re pretty enough – we could be friends with benefits. Fuck buddies, y’know?”
To this very present day Bruce still burned inside, hating himself for having to sink so low – but he had no choice; being the Batman meant Bruce Wayne would have to take losses in the ways of his personal life’s friendships and relationships. Now that Bruce was back in Gotham after his little adventure with Catwoman in China to capture the Riddler, he had run into Rachel just the other night as Batman… She had been terrorized by the Scarecrow and the Joker – a double whammy with slim to nil odds of walking away from unharmed.
The Batman managed to save her, personally escorting her back home to ensure her safety and even provided her with a specialized cell phone to dial directly to him given her high profile status as she was taking on Edward Nigma, aka, the Riddler in court. She was a target for the type of work did, working in a court of law as the Assistant District Attorney in Gotham – a just and honest ADA, one of Gotham’s first and only. So, being on this side of town at this precise time wasn’t a coincidence for Bruce; he wanted to meet up with Rachel partially to check in on her to be sure she was doing okay and partially to hopefully patch things up from the last time they had officially interacted.
Bruce was looking very clean cut in a three piece Italian slate-blue grey business suit. His jet black, thick, short hair was brushed back and styled perfectly in a clean cut manner. He was clean shaven and looked as though he just stepped off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. He had also managed to ditch the meddling paparazzi, eager to snap a photo of the hometown celebrity. He knew Rachel would be getting off work now, knew her work schedule from memory, and he knew her habit of which exit she preferred to take from the courthouse, where she usually parked her car… He was a man of detail, a man who paid eerily close attention to detail border obsessive stalker level. Once he spotted the young, beautiful ADA leaving the courthouse, Bruce made his move. He pulled out his cell phone, pretending to talk to some V.I.P. on it and unintentionally (intentionally) bumped right into his childhood friend, Rachel.
“…No Mike, I said I wanted to redo the yacht trip to the islands, just not this w--”
BAM!
He crashed into Rachel, though not too hard, just enough to purposely drop his cell phone making the device bust in two.
“Whoa! Sorry, didn’t even--… Rachel?” He stammered and then offered a sheepish, boyish grin, fierce blue eyes flashing with friendliness. “Wow, Rachel – fancy that! It’s been a while.”
He now quickly bent down and scooped up the remains of his cell phone.
“Man, the more expensive these smart phones are, the more cheaply built they’re made. Seriously though it’s really nice to see you; I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
For as enormous as Gotham was given how many, many, many tall, grim, and gothic-styled buildings that populated the gritty city, a certain sense of claustrophobia wasn’t uncommon to out-of-town visitors. But for a Son of Gotham like Bruce Wayne, the dense architecture and thick population didn’t faze him one bit – he preferred it, actually. He knew the side streets, alleyways, and hidden passages better than the original city planners did. After all, he wasn’t just a fun-loving philanthropist billionaire playboy – that was his day job. His night job? Well… He had what could almost be considered as a rather intimate relationship with Gotham, the dark sister city to Metropolis.
He was hanging around the judicial region of downtown for a reason – he was there to “inadvertently” meet up with an old and close childhood friend: Gotham’s ADA, Rachel Dawes. It had been 3 years since he had last spoke to Rachel or even seen her, for that matter. It was during his birthday party in one of his many owned extravagant city flats. The last encounter he had with her hadn’t been a positive one… Bruce had been “drunk” and ended up making a complete asshole out of himself by stripping naked before all of his party guests and attempting to ride the frozen tiger ice sculpture that had been specially carved as décor for his party. He even attempted to invite one of his three (yes three) dates onto the ice sculpture to ride with him; when the model he was “dating” slapped him and stormed out, he turned his attention to the disapproving Rachel Dawes, offering her a ride. Needless to say, his “drunken” antics had brought a quick end to his birthday bash – which was precisely what he wanted given the dark mission he had to endure that same night.
Of course, no one knew Bruce was faking his drunkenness, no one knew that the apple martinis were simply just apple juice and the Jager Bomber shots were simply just Red Bull and nothing more, and no one especially knew that the moment Bruce was alone he shifted gears and became the Batman – heading out into the night to stop the Joker from unleashing his toxic and deadly laughing gas in a widespread release all over the city with intent to have the citizens of Gotham laugh themselves to death while he took to blowing up those gothic, massive skyscrapers one by one.
Because Bruce Wayne had acted like a drunken fool at his birthday party 3 years ago, ending the event early in creating such an offensive spectacle, the citizens of Gotham lived due to Batman being able to thwart and capture the Joker in the nick of time. But, because Bruce Wayne had acted like a drunken fool at his birthday party 3 years ago, ending the event early in creating such an offensive spectacle, he had greatly disappointed Rachel as well as hurt her feelings with some of the uncouth words he said to her. He had to be that disorderly though, had to be so offensive and crass – especially to Rachel as Rachel, being the kind, caring, sensitive amazingly good friend she is, was trying to offer her help to Alfred in wrangling Bruce down as well as help clean up the mess Bruce had made of things.
The last words Bruce had said to her were, “C’mon Rachel… It’s not gonna’ be pity sex. You’re pretty enough – we could be friends with benefits. Fuck buddies, y’know?”
To this very present day Bruce still burned inside, hating himself for having to sink so low – but he had no choice; being the Batman meant Bruce Wayne would have to take losses in the ways of his personal life’s friendships and relationships. Now that Bruce was back in Gotham after his little adventure with Catwoman in China to capture the Riddler, he had run into Rachel just the other night as Batman… She had been terrorized by the Scarecrow and the Joker – a double whammy with slim to nil odds of walking away from unharmed.
The Batman managed to save her, personally escorting her back home to ensure her safety and even provided her with a specialized cell phone to dial directly to him given her high profile status as she was taking on Edward Nigma, aka, the Riddler in court. She was a target for the type of work did, working in a court of law as the Assistant District Attorney in Gotham – a just and honest ADA, one of Gotham’s first and only. So, being on this side of town at this precise time wasn’t a coincidence for Bruce; he wanted to meet up with Rachel partially to check in on her to be sure she was doing okay and partially to hopefully patch things up from the last time they had officially interacted.
Bruce was looking very clean cut in a three piece Italian slate-blue grey business suit. His jet black, thick, short hair was brushed back and styled perfectly in a clean cut manner. He was clean shaven and looked as though he just stepped off the pages of a men’s fashion magazine. He had also managed to ditch the meddling paparazzi, eager to snap a photo of the hometown celebrity. He knew Rachel would be getting off work now, knew her work schedule from memory, and he knew her habit of which exit she preferred to take from the courthouse, where she usually parked her car… He was a man of detail, a man who paid eerily close attention to detail border obsessive stalker level. Once he spotted the young, beautiful ADA leaving the courthouse, Bruce made his move. He pulled out his cell phone, pretending to talk to some V.I.P. on it and unintentionally (intentionally) bumped right into his childhood friend, Rachel.
“…No Mike, I said I wanted to redo the yacht trip to the islands, just not this w--”
BAM!
He crashed into Rachel, though not too hard, just enough to purposely drop his cell phone making the device bust in two.
“Whoa! Sorry, didn’t even--… Rachel?” He stammered and then offered a sheepish, boyish grin, fierce blue eyes flashing with friendliness. “Wow, Rachel – fancy that! It’s been a while.”
He now quickly bent down and scooped up the remains of his cell phone.
“Man, the more expensive these smart phones are, the more cheaply built they’re made. Seriously though it’s really nice to see you; I didn’t hurt you, did I?”