Post by simba on Nov 20, 2010 1:11:46 GMT -5
(OOC: And that's why it's always good to invite a superhero to your party. And you are SO a poacher, Deathstroke. FEEL THE JUDGMENT.)
"Oh, I quite understand, Mr. Wilson," Bruce responds to the poacher. He gives his head a short, polite nod to the other man before turning back to the duo of beautiful women surrounding him. Well, soon to be sole beautiful lady. "Truly, Ms. Isley, it is a shame, that you must depart so soon," the bachelor responds, just as smooth as ever. "I would have loved to hear your opinions on how we could best protect the precious flora of the jungles currently being encroached on by ranchers and farmers," Wayne says with a suave little smile. "After all, while I am a man who respects science, I admit that I am not a scientist; as such, I am always wanting to learn best from those whose field it is their expertise. But, truly, it was a pleasure."
And with that, there was... well, still hundreds of people around him. But only one who deserved his interest for the moment remaining. "And why is that, Ms. In-ze?" Bruce responds as he looks over towards her, his eyes filling with curiosity. "I hope that you have found a decent place to stay, at least, if you intend on remaining here for any time at all. There are still far too many seedy areas in our fine city; I do not want you to end up in an apartment anywhere near them."
So, this was Supergirl. Bruce, through his idle, mindless chatter made certain to take mental notes on her personality, her way of movement, the way she held herself. Little things one discovers, if one is well-tuned enough to the proper signals. He saw the way that her smile faltered, only to be replaced by a distracted, slightly disconcerted and far less genuine smile. She knew that he knew she was in the city. And that made her... well, if not nervous, at least somewhat uneasy. The way she curled her fingers with a slight twinge of nervousness, the way her eyes glanced away. All simple giveaways. Something about being in Gotham made her nervous. And Bruce was certain as to why.
Not that he had much time to dwell on that fact. It was not the shots being fired that caught him off guard, or caused him even the briefest moments of worry; it was the fact that he was Bruce being shot at. Not Batman. Time seemed to slow down, Bruce picking thoughts from his mind: what was the point of this? Is it just a rogue assassin, a rogue criminal? It had to be someone at the party; someone close enough to him to scope him out before shooting. The direction of the bullets; it was from inside. The volume of the firearm's explosion: even through the silencer. And the flash; that is what gave it away. Between fifteen and twenty-five feet; it had to be. The halo created from the firearm gave away the bullet's trajectory. Were he Batman, this would be cinch; he would simply roll away. But he was not... he had to be more subtle.
Bruce's eyes shifted; and he received one brief moment of solace when he saw Kara step forward and in the space-passage the bullets were set for. One problem solved. He immediately clutched his hands to his breast where a bullet would have struck, his glass plummeting to the floor and shattering with a CRASH! He staggered back, stooping down to disappear into the crowd of gasping suits, gesturing for Alfred with a hand. Now, just get to a bedroom, where Bruce could 'recover' in private.
"Oh, I quite understand, Mr. Wilson," Bruce responds to the poacher. He gives his head a short, polite nod to the other man before turning back to the duo of beautiful women surrounding him. Well, soon to be sole beautiful lady. "Truly, Ms. Isley, it is a shame, that you must depart so soon," the bachelor responds, just as smooth as ever. "I would have loved to hear your opinions on how we could best protect the precious flora of the jungles currently being encroached on by ranchers and farmers," Wayne says with a suave little smile. "After all, while I am a man who respects science, I admit that I am not a scientist; as such, I am always wanting to learn best from those whose field it is their expertise. But, truly, it was a pleasure."
And with that, there was... well, still hundreds of people around him. But only one who deserved his interest for the moment remaining. "And why is that, Ms. In-ze?" Bruce responds as he looks over towards her, his eyes filling with curiosity. "I hope that you have found a decent place to stay, at least, if you intend on remaining here for any time at all. There are still far too many seedy areas in our fine city; I do not want you to end up in an apartment anywhere near them."
So, this was Supergirl. Bruce, through his idle, mindless chatter made certain to take mental notes on her personality, her way of movement, the way she held herself. Little things one discovers, if one is well-tuned enough to the proper signals. He saw the way that her smile faltered, only to be replaced by a distracted, slightly disconcerted and far less genuine smile. She knew that he knew she was in the city. And that made her... well, if not nervous, at least somewhat uneasy. The way she curled her fingers with a slight twinge of nervousness, the way her eyes glanced away. All simple giveaways. Something about being in Gotham made her nervous. And Bruce was certain as to why.
Not that he had much time to dwell on that fact. It was not the shots being fired that caught him off guard, or caused him even the briefest moments of worry; it was the fact that he was Bruce being shot at. Not Batman. Time seemed to slow down, Bruce picking thoughts from his mind: what was the point of this? Is it just a rogue assassin, a rogue criminal? It had to be someone at the party; someone close enough to him to scope him out before shooting. The direction of the bullets; it was from inside. The volume of the firearm's explosion: even through the silencer. And the flash; that is what gave it away. Between fifteen and twenty-five feet; it had to be. The halo created from the firearm gave away the bullet's trajectory. Were he Batman, this would be cinch; he would simply roll away. But he was not... he had to be more subtle.
Bruce's eyes shifted; and he received one brief moment of solace when he saw Kara step forward and in the space-passage the bullets were set for. One problem solved. He immediately clutched his hands to his breast where a bullet would have struck, his glass plummeting to the floor and shattering with a CRASH! He staggered back, stooping down to disappear into the crowd of gasping suits, gesturing for Alfred with a hand. Now, just get to a bedroom, where Bruce could 'recover' in private.