Comfort Interrupted [Batman]

[Deleted]

It had been quite some time since the FBI had given Brynmor the desperate need to hide away but never one to over look the chance for some peace and safety still he remained in the old town house Hawkgirl had flown him to.

It was a relatively nice building for the part of town, clearly built before the neighbourhood went down hill. Three stories, bedrooms at the top, small kitchen and dining room in the middle with a little balcony and on the ground floor the living room, squashed in a row of many identical homes. It was big enough for one at least and the slight roughness suited Brynmor well, sometimes he didn't even have to go looking for trouble when he was bored, it'd be just down the block.

The people of the east of Gotham in concern for their own safety don't tend to get to know their neighbours, they'd had stopped considering why the curtains were always closed all day even when the lights came on at night and none had cared enough to investigate so Brynmor had been left relatively in peace to take over the place and do as he pleased, which from the look of the kitchen mostly involved dismantling things.

The toaster, sat on the kitchen table, looked like it had a small fire and melted on one side before it was stripped to pieces, the microwave next to it lies in bits, the odd spark coming from it's wires as Brynmor never did work out that was supposed to be dangerous. Several other appliances, most scavenged from somewhere else, are scattered around in various states of destruction after he became bored and failed each time to figure out how the technology worked and then forgot how to put things back together again.

It's a wonder anything's still working but the quiet hum of a mostly empty fridge and the lights on with sound of a tv talking on the ground floor suggest there are still a few survivors of the alien's curiosity.

The tv saved itself time and again by always providing something different to watch, it's a novel experience for someone who's spent so long outside without any of these sorts of things and currently it offers entertainment in the form of a documentary on kangaroos. Brynmor's attention is focused as he lounges, stretched out on the sofa with the last tin of cold baked beans to eat.

He no longer expected people to see him in the house so he was comfortable enough to do away with his usual disguise. Really it was lucky he was still wearing trousers so far today. He looks a lot less human without the carefully gathered clothes to disguise things. His skin can't be mistaken for just being an odd shade with so much more of it on show, it's definitely a light purple, just as minus the hat his hair is definitely dark purple and without sunglasses it's hard to miss the black eyes with the red slitted pupils. Even his body shape looks odd without baggy clothes to hide it, his limbs longer and thinner, his chest bigger and his feet just sporting two big toes while each hand lacks one finger. He's spent so much time working to blend in but alone in the house, where he actually feels safe for a while, he was comfortable enough to finally be himself.

It was really only a matter of time before something spoiled that peace.

[vigilant]

With Batman, it was never a matter of if he'd find out. It would always be a question of when. So it was just a matter of time. A matter of time until Batman discovered something was off about one of his safe-houses, and decided to investigate. As always, he scoured the skies and prowled the streets. Planned his routes and circled the city, to ensure he covered as much area as he could in a very limited duration of time. Then the rest of the night was set aside for the safehouse, where he was sure, absolutely sure - it was a certainty honed from years of crimefighter, almost like a woman's intuition - something wasn't right.

He landed on the balcony. A lithe figure swathed in darkness. Behind the white lens, a pair of blue eyes scanned the darkness warily, alert to the slightest sign of danger. Then he moved. Rapidly, a figure accustomed to economy of movement. Through the window, where the glass didn't even creak as he slipped in and landed gracefully behind the curtains, like a fish as it glides through water. The white lens narrowed as he focused and zoomed in on the figure farther away, and the television, flitting through a rapid succession of images.

Batman made his way closer. Close enough that he could pick apart and analyze Brynmor's persona, but not so the light from the television could touch him. If there was anything that he and Gotham's most notorious criminals had in common, it was that their niche was the night. The darkness was their friend. But unlike them, he had been born in it. Made alive again. Baptized by it and readied for war. And in that way, he would always have an advantage over them. They were mere criminals, masquerading as children of the darkness; he was a true son of the shadows.

"What are you doing here?"

A snarl, then the wires were disconnected. The tv was turned off, and there was only him and Batman. Batman and the darkness.

[Deleted]

Brynmor remained relaxed as the building was broken in to and he seemed perfectly unaware, busy contemplating how hard it would be to stow away on a trip to Australia. It used to be so much easier when there wasn't all this identification business and people communicated far less. Still, it was somewhere he hadn't been, he even begins to consider how difficult it would be swim there, he could do it, it'd just take a very long and boring time and he'd probably miss it and end up going the wrong way.

There's no sign that he can tell anyone's there at all until the voice sounded and the lights went out. Weirdly his only reaction for a moment is a mildly surprised "Hmm?" as he looks puzzled at the tv before finally calmly looking over the back of the sofa to try and identify the source of the voice. The fact is he's an incredibly easy guy to sneak up on even for the average person so he has no hope of spotting Batman, particularly when he's distracted. Years and years of not really having to care if he gets injured or attacked has slowly chipped away at his self preservation skills to the point that short of keeping himself from being locked up he really doesn't care for his own safety and practically fears nothing, let alone darkness or mystery voices behind him. Besides experience says if the guy sneaking up on you bothers to purposefully give themselves away then they're probably not looking to attack you yet.

Still that someone has invaded his home should be addressed, specially since he can no longer has the distraction of the tv to occupy his mind. Setting the can of beans aside he at least sits up, though he doesn't stand from the sofa yet "Well, I was watching the television but I sense that is no longer an option" It doesn't seem like it'd be a coincidence for the power to go off right as whoever it is turned up "Perhaps I might ask you the same thing?" He remembers Hawkgirl explaining who the place belonged to but the thought doesn't really enter his mind yet.

[vigilant]

Most criminals balk at the mention of Batman. Most criminals jump at the sound of a rustling cape. Most criminals, upon knowing who they're up against, instantly start making denials and prepare to make their escape. But not this one. Does that mean he wasn't a criminal? Or simply a very new, and thus foolish, one? Either way, he was trespassing on his territory, and from the looks of it, had managed to stay under the radar for some time... How a man who couldn't even detect his presence managed such a thing, he couldn't possibly fathom. But he'll know. Soon enough.

"I'm the one asking the questions here. Not you."

The cloaked figure remained unseen, but his voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. As though he had harnessed the shadows themselves so his voice could pass through them like a speaker. As though he really was everywhere at once, a thousand, no, a million eyes watching Brynmor at every possible angle. The shutters were drawn closed, and the room grew increasingly darker. Shade by shade by minuscule shade.

"Who put you here? How long have you hidden away? What are you?"

The last word was said with an inflection of disgust. Complete, utter disgust, the tone one would use for a vile, disgusting varmint. This man... He was toeing the line, far too similar to those eldritch, supernatural forces that Batman hated so much. If he was of an arcane sort, that meant that he was an unknown variable in his equation. A question mark that no amount of the prodding and probing of a scientist could uncover.

"Who are you?"

[Deleted]

People these days with the cities and their street lights don't know darkness, Brynmor couldn't care less if the whole country lost power and his greatest worry ended up a pack of wolves thinking he looked a bit tasty, it'd bring back memories. He doesn't even keep looking for Batman after a minute, the mystery man wants to hide well so be it, let him do as he pleases. If anything humans trying to be sneaky or intimidating amuses him a little, so does Batman's insistence on controlling the situation and asking all the questions. He earns a smirk but Brynmor doesn't argue, he knows how this sort of thing goes.

They're all the same, so curious but often so keen to control the unknown. It's far from the first time Brynmor's been mistaken for something supernatural too. It's the eyes, people see the black and red and suddenly they're creeped out and screaming about demons. Frightened angry mobs were pretty much his welcoming party to the planet "I flew in upon the wings of a woman, though I lay hidden for centuries" He could answer plainly but he prefers to mess with people and see the conclusions they jump to "What is it you think I am?" He'd asked Wulfen pretty much the same thing and never given a straight answer either. It takes something to get him to take a situation seriously, while he's sure he could still get out if he wished he doesn't care for the questioning.

[vigilant]

"You have a very poor perception of time, then. Months. Maybe years. But not centuries."

Batman nearly snarled at Brynmor. The idea of an unknown variable having bypassed all his barriers and having hidden right under his nose for months was enough to make his blood boil. But for years? Centuries?! There was no way. Either this creature had a terrible perception of time, or one entirely different than the one he was accustomed to. Or, maybe he was spouting lies in the hope of arousing his ire. Batman scowled underneath the cowl, and though the room was pitch black, and there was no way to see the very noticable darkening of his features, the density in the room changed. It grew increasingly tense, as though they were in a vacuum, as though someone had pulled the strings of a harp taut with rigid fingers, readying it for the catalysmic explosion of sound.

"I think you need to come with me."

Years of interrogating criminals taught Batman that he must, at all times, control the conversation. Dictate the pace and steer the topic. Always be in control. It was this sense of control, his observational skills, and his ability to remain five steps ahead at all times, that allowed him to come this far already. To usher in this era of greater peace amongst Gotham's crime-filled hallways. That was why, even before he finished speaking, he was already edging closer; a child borne of darkness, aided by it as he made way for war.

[Deleted]

Brynmor certainly loses track of time easily, he hates to watch it ticking by so slow and endless and tries to ignore it as much as possible but in this case he's merely being annoyingly and purposely cryptic. He doesn't happily accept people trying to be threatening, it doesn't work well with him and the more Batman tries to control and scare him the more Brynmor wants to mess with the man. It still wasn't a lie though, he simply answered the question vaguely and spoke of how long he'd been hiding on the planet rather than specifically in the house. Though the part about being brought on the wings of a woman was perfectly sensible too as that's exactly what Hawkgirl had appeared to be.

His own question goes unanswered, a pity though not unexpected as the figure in the dark didn't seem to like being asked the questions. Brynmor did enjoy seeing what people could come up with when deciding what he was sometimes, it could even help to judge people and how well they were taking the whole thing. In general if they weren't screaming about demons and seeking weaponry then he didn't consider the reaction that bad.

"I disagree" Brynmor responds to the demand to come with the mysterious man. He really couldn't imagine that was a request. Finally he calmly stands, straightening to his full seven foot. Though he doesn't seem to be making an aggressive move it's pretty clear he has no intention of going with someone when he has no idea who they are or even where they want him to go. "I think you need to tell me what it is you want" His tone becomes firmer, he can't be so easily controlled by voices in the dark and he doesn't trust their motives. He does however expect consequences for disobeying someone who seems to have such a need to be in command and he'd rather face that standing.

[Deleted]

It's plainly obvious to Batman that the creature is messing with him. In fact, that accounts for much of his anger - he's being insulted. By someone who has clearly been squatting in his safe-house for quite some time. By someone who seems to be blatantly disregarding who he's talking to. If he didn't have his anger under such careful control he'd have attacked already.

But there are other factors of this situation that he'd be foolish to overlook. As insulting as the creature is being, it hasn't escaped his notice that he hasn't seen any signs of aggression or anger. And though it always bothers him when someone fails to be afraid of him, that's generally a sign that he should be extra cautious - his tactics are usually effective enough to make all but the bravest of people at least a little nervous even if they've never heard of him. When it simply doesn't work that's a sign that there's something going on he doesn't know about - some sort of insanity at the very least, but given the unusual appearance of this creature it's more likely there's some form of superhuman power involved. Something that makes the creature certain that no shadow in the dark is anything to worry about.

Though if the reason is simply strength that matches his size, then if this comes to blows he'll learn the hard way that strength isn't everything. Of course there's always the possibility that the reason is much better, which is one reason why Batman isn't interested in seeing this turn physical if it doesn't have to. He'd much rather get proper answers to the questions he'd asked than answer the question of which of them would win in a fight - even if he's quite certain that no matter what he could be facing he'd figure out a way to win.

Yet his tolerance for messing around isn't very high, so he considers the creature's attitude as forcing his hand in a way. Which is exactly why he told him what is about to happen if he doesn't change his tune. The reaction he get is, once again, not one that he's completely happy with. But at least this time he sees some sign that the creature may be willing to cooperate to avoid playing this the hard way. Okay, he'll give that a chance. "Answers," he replies with what's almost a snarl, curbing his advance for the moment, "Satisfying ones." And if he doesn't get them, this is going to get ugly.

[Deleted]

A great deal of trouble could probably be avoided if Brynmor actually had any idea who he was speaking to but the fact is he really doesn't. Batman seems to assume that if he lurks in the dark and puts on a gruff voice everyone will automatically know it's him and for the majority of the Gotham underworld this seems to work. When something goes bump in the night they picture the Bat, which is a good show of just how well known and feared he is but it doesn't work now. Brynmor knows of many things that stir in the shadows and he has no desire to cooperate with most of them.

Batman isn't the only one who's getting annoyed as a result, though for Brynmor it's more exasperation at the stubbornness as Batman really isn't much fun to mess with.

He sighs heavily at the answer he's given and shakes his head. At least it is some sort of answer even though it just brings them full circle back to demanding an explanation of each other. In some way he wishes the guy would just attack, at least it would break the stalemate and he'd be able to do something about the mystery voice in the dark. As it is he's still not even sure he's pinpointed the right bit of the room the voice is coming from, his eyes have adjusted to the dark as much as they're going to but he's avoiding looking that way in case Batman figures he's been found and decides to move.

"Then perhaps you should tell me who you are" The firm tone remains, Brynmor wants to know what he's dealing with before he does anything. He can't think of many people who would break into a house just to question someone. He can imagine plenty who would happily track him down to question him though and that thought doesn't please him.

[Deleted]

This isn't the first creature to try to mess with Batman, and it won't be the last. And this isn't exactly the best attempt at it he's ever had to deal with, either - several of the Gotham rogues, especially the Joker, make trying to mess with him a hobby. As a result, he's had to come up with certain strategies for dealing with it when it happens, and one of them is to discourage further attempts by making the whole process as unsatisfying as possible for the other person. That doesn't stop some people from trying to mess with him, but it at least reduces the occurrence.

Stopped in place for the moment, it's actually another way of testing the creature. He knows that in the dark it can be difficult to pinpoint where a sound is coming from, but with the right training or superior senses the task becomes easier - he himself usually doesn't have that much trouble, but then again lurking around in the dark is a bit of a hobby of his. But he's testing more than the creature's senses: whether or not the creature tries harder to locate him now that he's made it easier tells him something, as does the creature's response to pinpointing him if he's able to do so. Which is a risky move if it turns out that the creature isn't as docile as he appears, but that's why Batman is watching him very carefully now for any sign of hostility. Though from what he can see, the creature seems more interested in talking than fighting.

Even if that talking is yet another stubborn and irritating refusal to give him what he wants. There's a split-second pause as Batman considers how exactly to react to it, but he counters by flatly stating, "My house, my rules: You first." As much as he likes his name to precede him, he's not especially keen on fixing the apparent absence of that in this case to such an unknown sort of individual. And it's not as if he doesn't have a very legitimate reason for breaking in here and asking questions, after all.

[Deleted]

His house his rules? Brynmor hesitates, a little confused. Was that just another one of those saying people kept coming up with that didn't really mean the right thing or was it actually simply his house? He could ask but that wasn't exactly getting him very far so far. Whoever they were they were certainly infuriating.

A deep frown appears as Brynmor silently tries to remember what he knows about the owner of the house. It's not a lot to begin with and his memory isn't helping him figure it out. The woman with the wings had spoken of him but the more Brynmor tried to remember what she'd said the more his mind gets in a tangle with other memories. He struggles to find the right memories for a long moment of uncomfortable silence but it only succeeds in irritating him further.

There had to be some way to break the stalemate, certainly he could answer the questions but without an idea who he was giving the answers to he was still wary. The shadowy owner of the voice was more stubborn than anyone Brynmor had known, clearly they wouldn't give in either. He could out wait the guy easily but that would be terribly dull for him so there was only one more option he could see "Right then" Without warning he suddenly picks up the coffee table to throw it into the darkness towards the mysterious stranger. One way or another he was finding out what he was dealing with.

[Deleted]

Batman saw what he took as indecision in the strange man before him. The light was far from perfect, though the man’s skin seemed to have an off color to it. The eyes were disturbing, though he’s seen similar worn by cosplayers at various events. The size was uncommon, but not unusual. What marked him as physically odd, though, was his proportions. To call the intruder fit would have been almost cruel, but he’d never seen someone with the lank bagginess that the entity before him bore.

The intruder’s verbal interaction was equally odd. He seemed to have no emotional response to a raspy voice out of the darkness. That was unusual, especially for anyone that he didn’t already know. It marked an absence of awareness of the expectations of societal interaction, or a complete disregard for them. The former might be the perfect definition of a sociopath, but he’d leave that question to those who dabbled in the definition associated with the soft sciences. The latter was just . . . strange.

The figure moved quickly in picking up and throwing the coffee pot. Batman moved to the side, out of its path, with a practiced smoothness that belied effort, though he was actually thankful that the intruder finally acted in a manner that fit. He ran the conversation through his head since his arrival, trying to make sense of it.

The intruder had arrived on the wings of a woman. Depending on the metaphors used, that could have meant an airplane, though he believed it was more direct. The person had proven evasive, but he’s had no reason to believe he’s been involved in any actual subterfuge. Considering it was a safe-house known to few, he could have been brought by Hawkgirl, though why she might bring the stranger and not let him know was another mystery.

He said that he’d lain hidden for centuries, but obviously not here. If he’d truly been around for centuries, it indicated that he was probably not human. Given the off-color skin, the odd proportions, and the unusual responses, he was willing to accept that as a hypothesis. What that left was a myriad of possibilities that he could only guess at, but if he was brought by Hawkgirl, he could be from a different planet. And, he could have been on a ship hidden for a very long time. Or, he could just be very old. Jumping to conclusions was not going to help.

The rest of the conversation, before the thrown coffee maker, had been a poor game of maneuvering. It was time to change tact. He stepped from the shadows, revealing the figure of Batman, though the cloak hid most of his features. His gaze was neutral as he gazed at the intruder, giving nothing away. After several seconds of thought, he began speaking.

“I am not sure how you came to be in this place, but you are trespassing. This is private property, and I am the custodian of it. Legally, I have the right not only to remove you, but to treat you as a hostile party within a private domicile. Intellectually, I’m curious to know how you came to be here, why you’ve stayed, and what your intentions are. I am, after all, responsible for who is here and what they do.

“‘I flew in upon the wings of a woman, though I lay hidden for centuries. What is it you think I am?’” he quoted.

“You’re not the Riddler, not even close. ‘The wings of a woman.’ It could be an airplane, or possibly even a starship, but I don’t think so. Neither would bring you *here*, but Hawkgirl might.

“’I lay hidden for centuries.’ Not here. This place hasn’t been here for centuries, assuming you are using a Terran time scale. We’ll come back to this, though. What do I think you are? You not a typical human. Possibly meta-human but I doubt it. Your responses are atypical for a human, as is your appearance. You don’t fit the profile of any cryptid I’m aware of. So, I think you’re from another planet; an alien in the truest sense.

“Given that, speaking about centuries probably refers to time on the planet, not in my domicile. I’ve answered your questions. So, why are you here?”

[Deleted]

Finally some progress! He really will have to remember that throwing things at people helps. It helped with the first person he really spoke to several hundred years ago, why not now? It wasn't a great first impression granted but it definitely breaks the ice and slowly he starts to smile as Batman steps into view and talks.

The appearance of another masked man wandering the city earns a look of slight curiosity but Brynmor was getting used to the idea that this was a very weird place. He liked that. Any aggression in his stance disappears as he's mostly got what he wanted. He still doesn't really know who he's talking to, he's never seen Batman and his memory's bad enough he's forgotten what Hawkgirl called him, or even what Hawkgirl called herself until Batman mentions the name and there's a flash of recognition.

Batman sounds like he owns the place anyway and that seems to be good enough for Brynmor, though all the legal business goes in one ear and out the other. Technically he's trespassing on the entire planet, he's certainly not a citizen of anywhere. He really doesn't care about lounging around a house for a while, he might however feel a little bad about the stuff he accidentally broke in it were he not so distracted right now.

Brynmor waits until Batman's done before offering a light round of applause "Very nicely done, I don't think anyone has got so close before, I do enjoy being surprised and not a single mention of evil demons" He's been surprised and amused, that's about the best entertainment he can imagine and he turns away to get his coat, finally seeming to care about the hint that he's no longer welcome there. With some of his questions answered he does seem more inclined to answer some of Batman's too though he glances over any real details about himself, only talking about how he ended up in the house "I'm here simply because...erm" He pauses for a moment, dredging his memory. Even if it was only seconds ago names are hard. A click of the fingers as he remembers "Hawkgirl, that's the one. She brought me. The rest of the homeless were getting taken off the street by that FBI lot. Heh, imagine what they'd have done if they'd stumbled across an alien in the bunch" A small frown and he shakes his head, he doesn't really want to imagine, he hasn't been told good things "She said it was safe here and no one came to kick me out before today so" he shrugs "I figured why not stay?"

[Deleted]

Batman could see why the alien presumed one would associate him with a demon or the like; he fit the Judeo-Christian profile well enough, as scattered as that was. However, religious iconography was one of the last things the Dark Knight would assume on meeting another individual. He already knew aliens were real, not that there was any scientific reason to doubt there existence. How many had actually come to Earth was a different debate altogether. Apparently, there was at least one more than he’d accounted for before tonight.

Hawkgirl had been a logical deduction, but it brought questions of its own. It had been some time before he’d seen Hawkgirl in Gotham and he was fairly certain she hadn’t dropped by recently. The state of the safe-house also attested to the alien’s presence for more than a few hours. If his time frame was correct, he had been here for some time. The security had been interrupted, somehow. Possibly by Hawkgirl, though he wasn’t aware that she knew how to do that. It was a problem for another day. Inwardly, Batman realized that there had been a lot of those stacking up.

He’d explained well enough why he was in the safe-house. Batman would have to contact Hawkgirl to confirm the story, but it rang true for the moment. It didn’t answer any of the real questions, though. Assuming that he was an alien, a point seemed relatively likely, there were a whole host of other questions to be answered. He seemed to have problems tracking the conversation, so precise questions seemed to be in order.

“Bigger picture. Why are you on Earth? When and how did you come to be on this planet? If I understand you correctly, you’ve been here for centuries. Why?”

He guessed the alien was stranded, but it was entirely possible that he was gathering information. If he’d been here for centuries, he would know a lot about human psychology, which would be the major element in any kind of an attempted alien invasion. The technology, for a race that traveled the stars, would be of minimal concern. Weapons of mass destruction here dangerous in their own right, but the human race was far more dangerous to any would be invader. Annihilation was a completely different story, but unless his guest’s race had an incredibly long outlook on things, centuries was a long time to wait to kill off a race.

Batman’s mind went briefly through other options. Though ludicrous on the face it if, it was not impossible that the race was waiting for humanity to come up with some kind of solution for them to harvest, but that presumed a foreknowledge that it would happen, which in turn inferred some hand in leading humanity toward that goal. He couldn’t completely disregard the idea that aliens had seeded humanity with life, but if they had, it would have been far more than centuries in the past. It didn’t add up.

“What are you called? I’m Batman.”

[Deleted]

An issue with following the lines of conversation were the least of Brynmor's problems, for a being who was never supposed to live anywhere near nearly two thousand years, half of which was spent going crazy trapped in his own head, he's probably doing pretty good. Everything's a mess though, spark a simple memory and he could be lost on a tangent of thoughts within moments, it's like nostalgia demands his attention and everything's a muddle of times, places and names. He remembers a lot but he's forgotten a lot more.

As questions related to his reason for being on the planet come up Brynmor shrugs on his coat and out of habit slouches to a slightly more acceptable height. It would work better were he wearing something underneath the coat but it hung well and disguised his body shape to a decent degree, he's had plenty of time to find the best way he could to blend in and pass for human but the best bit will always be looking like a beggar. So few people look twice when they think you have nothing or might start asking them for money.

The questions he considers, it was all rather related to his immortality and that was something he still preferred not to mention, he didn't exactly trust people with that particular secret so he chooses carefully which part of that story to tell though there is a slight pause to note the mysterious stranger actually has a name now.

Batman. Was that what Hawkgirl had called the owner of the house? Damned if he knew, names were one of the hardest things to remember. The guys on the street had mentioned something like that, the stories, good and bad, certainly seemed to fit someone who liked to go lurking in dark corners.

For a few moments it seems as though he's shut down entirely and lost in thought as he tries to consider whether this meeting is a good or a bad thing. Hawkgirl certainly seemed to trust his protection but he didn't exactly know her much at all anyway. Ultimately he comes to his usual conclusion; 'What does it matter? There's nothing he can do to you anyway.' Snapping out of it he glances back to Batman again "Brynmor" he finally responds before there's another moment of consideration and he carries on "My memory is a little shaky on the hows, whys and whens but rest assured I'm not about to begin a one man invasion of the planet" He might have been called a demon a lot before but he's still come to know the usual assumptions that seem to surround aliens too "I'm here because, well, I suppose Earth happened to get in the way when I was drifting in the nothing and I crashed" He keeps it vague but light, trying to be reassuringly pleasant enough to not seem like a threat that needed the torches lit and the pitchforks sharpened.