The Securely Insecure [Selina, Lex, Bruce]

[Jeremiah Arkham - Black Mask]

If there was an up-side to this day it was that his evening’s arrangements had been scheduled after the workday traffic had dwindled. There would be no crawling to his destination as Jeremiah sat in the back seat of the cab he’d called to his home. His briefcase was open in his lap as he leafed through documents he knew would probably be vital to the meeting and documents he’d brought that could be helpful. The rummaging may have appeared a sign of worry, but his posture and expression wasn’t. If anything, he was rummaging not of out of stress, but sheer boredom.

While it was true he may have gotten along with one of the attendees at the meeting tonight and that was a huge maybe, he had no real interest in conversing with any of them. To him this would have been more easily dealt with through e-mails. Jeremiah Arkham was completely unhappy because he was merely administrator. The logistics of Arkham City: not his. The size: also not his concern. This was the city’s project. If the likes of Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor, and Selina Kyle were worried about the security then those were questions for guess who? The city!

Jeremiah felt little more than some figurehead of the project. He was their poster image, their spokesman. All he had to worry about was making sure his building was secure and that no more imbeciles were hired to maintain the “infrastructure” of the project.

If he could have been completely honest, he’d have the trio who’d be meeting with at the bequest of Mr. Bruce Wayne who had set up this little rendezvous that they should work to have the project disbanded. It was nothing more than a mayor’s desperation to regain reelection. It was a scrambling to solve the unsolvable. It was nothing more than to contain chaos and nothing could do that. The project would fail. He was betting on it. Arkham was a gambling man after all. Everything he did was a gamble, including his own life.

The cab slid to a halt in front of the imposing Wayne Towers and Jeremiah said nothing as he paid the driver and stepped out and onto the sidewalk. His briefcase dangled at his side and he headed in. What would be the point of looking up at the building which was a mere testament to Bruce Wayne’s ego. He could write a paper about the implication of the building. It was shield, a coping mechanism, a mask for a child who had suffered greatly in the wake of his parents’ death.

Sometime Jeremiah would love to tell someone just how his own father had died.

Black shoes met the marble interior and the doctor bee-lined to the secretary’s desk. A quick smile, a polite request, and he was heading to the elevator. All that had left was to get to the floor where the conference room they’d be using was, and enter. Then maybe he’d have to wait, maybe not.

He hit the button to bring the elevator down and took a breath. His mind was now rummaging, but not over the files he’d carried, but over what exactly he was going to do that night to rid his mouth of the bitter taste he’d surely be leaving Wayne Tower with.

[Deleted]

Luthor never worried about traffic, it's one of the advantages of air superiority, something Luthor worked very hard to maintain, along with ground superiority, underground superiority and underwater superiority. Naturally, in this post-modern, post-Justice League world, it was impossible to maintain any such case, although Luthor did try to give everyone a run for their money. It was difficult to remain air superiority in a world with Superman and his Alien Allies, but even so, Lex Luthor could easily manage a VTOL helicopter using some of the basic quiet jet engines and rotating engines. 

He wasn't reading anything, though. Instead he was enjoying a brief moment to look over the city below him. Rotten, fetid, falling apart, desperate changes were coming to Gotham city, and not everyone was happy about it. Quietly, very quietly, people were starting to leave, at least those that had somewhere to go, something they could afford. The writing was on the wall, and more buildings were being abandoned, businesses scared with uncertainty. Parts of the city were rotting even worse than they had been, the old gothic industrial buildings starting to move towards ruin. Garbage populated emptying streets, visible even from this distance up, although the individual pieces were blending together. 

The path of depopulation and inactivity was especially apparent in that locked down testament to Eminent Domain. A monument to government top-down regulation, a testament to centralized control and oversight, pushed through approval processes in secret meetings and hidden rooms and agreements with barely a room for comment. This was not surprising to Lex Luthor, most decisions were made that way, at least real ones, although they usually kept at least an appearance of public comment or public concern. Then again, Gotham City had a longer history of public corruption compared to his own native town, so perhaps the population accepted their own powerlessness, but then again, it appeared that some who could leave were already moving, some even to Luthor's home city, especially in the areas that were now taken up with the rising Arkham City. It was already over for the city, things had progressed past a point of no return, although no one else seemed to realize it yet. Lex Luthor was a futurist, though, and could see the writing on the wall. What remained was the last gasp of an old glory, to be putrefied and broken down to be purified through the act of destruction, part of an alchemical process by an ancient mad alchemist. Perhaps Luthor could draw something worthwhile from the process, perhaps he could even be there to rebuild if there was anything there worth saving. Perhaps a New Gotham in the image of Luthor and his companion, perhaps one in the image of the alchemist. Perhaps there'd be nothing. The future was uncertain in all regards, although perhaps Luthor was wrong as well and this was the first step towards a brighter future. There'd be days of darkness before then, though. At least Luthor's city would be strong and protected.  

The namesake of the man they were going to visit loomed underneath in the distance, and Lex Luthor looked at it in the distance his head languishing lazily against the seat. His companion sat across from him in the helicopter. "It lacks a certain elan, doesn't it? A certain elegance. It was something once, I know, but it's rather vulgar now." He cracked his knuckles, considering the city underneath him. "I still don't see what you see in this place, I understand the need for new kingdoms to conquer and new worlds to seize. There's something to be said for burning it to the ground and starting from scratch, although it's such a waste of resources. Mis-allocated as a testament to pride and greed. Did you know that this city was once the Jewel of the Atlantic? Trade? Industry and Innovation. A central hub to the engine of human progress. Although I suppose the Amoeba once marked the pinnacle of biological evolution too. Time does pass, and it doesn't do to get too stuck in the past. You understand that." 

He turned his head to look at his companion. She was lovely, there was the way her hair played over her eye, the way she wielded her mystique and mystery to achieve a soft power that could topple nations. And indeed they had just done that. Over the years he supposed if he'd been comfortable with anyone, it was with her. She never ceased to fascinate him, although part of him understood that it was because he was the only one to see her for her capabilities and not her role. Power was understanding desire, and he'd learned years ago that when it came to his companion, no one else had ever really asked her what she desired. Power was a matter of knowing what people wanted, and to make sure that you became essential to them getting what they wanted. 

He trusted her, which was an interesting experience. Not that he knew she wouldn't betray him, but because he knew she wouldn't betray her own nature. There was a trust in knowing someone who was true to themselves, even if their true self was hidden and obsfucated even from themselves. His companion would never show her true face. In some ways, she wore a mask better than that self appointed vigilante of Gotham, that Prince of the City, Lex's counterpart here, although a failed one in many ways. He merely dressed in symbolism, she embodied obscurity and wielded it like a stiletto in the neck of a lover. She laughed like smoke and moved like water and somewhere deep inside, he wondered if he loved her for that, or if either of them were even capable of those sorts of feelings. Possibly not. People like them were never so pedantic, but he respected her, and that was a rare and unusual experience that he savored when he had the opportunity. 

Besides, he enjoyed watching what she did with power. Part of him wanted to give her the world to see what she'd do with it. She was never comfortable with it, even though she wielded it well. It's why he put her in charge of LexCorp Gotham and why she was on his Board of Directors, an honor that was very rarified indeed. There was a comfort from prolonged exposure, she was still mysterious to him, and he knew that she was smart enough to find him still a mystery to her. The Unchecked Inferno, that was her name for him. The nickname had stuck in certain circles, although only she ever called him by that anymore. Some thought it was due to his hair, some due to his impetuous rage, but then again, it might be due to his effect on the world around him. She had never specified. He rolled his head and looked back at the city. They were approaching their destination. 

"Wayne Towers, this is LX-1000 approaching" The pilot spoke calmly over the radio. She was a trained professional as well, Luthor ignored her for now, trusting her to see what she needed to to keep things safe. The LexCorp Security on the VTOL Craft and the one behind them also were maintaining security as well as possible, although Lex felt it was a bit of overkill. It was necessary, and he was looking forward to meeting with the others, but he had things to tend to in his own city as well. This was a distraction, but an important one. The towers themselves were . . . well, they dominated the skyline so there was that. But then again, the Gotham Skyline was such a pathetic one, really. Old and past its prime, primped up with the glories of a past in a future that would pass it by. Deco, Gothic, stone and glass. Perhaps there was a time in the past it would be considered impressive. Perhaps there were those based in Gotham who would find it futuristic and dominating, but Luthor had seen that style before, commented on it. It was the past's vision of a brighter tomorrow that never game, a testament to industry that left, to innovation that was drained away, to a laurel that had been passed and killed, moved on to brighter minds and bigger cities. Wayne Enterprises, as updated and as restructured as it was, still remained the Jewel in the Crown of the Widowed Dutchess, a pearl of the necklace of an old woman clinging to a beauty long gone, the mane of an aging lion, the pride of Ozymandius. Look upon ye works ye mighty and despair. 

The landing was uneventful, no rocket launch from anarchists or clowns, so that was something. Luthor stepped off the VTOL after his security did, and then made his way in, his companion with him. 

[Talia al Ghul]

The room would be open for them. She'd made proper arrangements after she had her own quiet nightly meeting. Tea, even. It was sad when the proper son of Gotham was unable to see, or even plan for what was happening. Unless it was some sort of vision of his own and he was playing everyone within it like a puppet. She greatly doubted that. She'd seen the man fly high, and fail quite lowly. As it was she was flying over a city she wasn't too fond of and if she had more of a standard Americanized upbringing, or even European one, she'd understand the visits to family that were extended, yet not always appreciated. To her, family was a much, much different institution. It was a process, it was an ordeal, and it was nothing like this 'family' that was represented nearly everywhere she had set foot on this planet. Blood did not make family, she had heard more than once. Then again, closeness and communication did not always make family, either.

Waving her hand at him dismissively, she wanted to enjoy the view, even as it was crumbling, in silence. "I never said I loved Gotham. Just that I have been here time and time again to appreciate...what it is, Hariq. My missions here have been for purposeful intent, and pleasure, and both of those do not equate true fondness in fairness." As he continued to speak, that fire being fanned much as she had seen time and time again, Talia let the faintest smile cross her lips. As much as he looked the every inch of mogul billionaire or whatever they were calling them these days, he was still as excited as, oh, she had seen him. Perhaps not even this elated in more than a decade. The last time it had been back in her own home, a place of desolate beauty, one that either wore you down to what you truly were, or killed you in a mere evening. And considering her own age, she had not been killed but created to be, evening after evening, night into night, and reborn, each time the daylight once again rose over the lands. So while she had appreciated working with Alexander Luthor through her years, there were some times when she just wanted silence. Silence to observe. Silence to breathe. Silence to hear, to feel, to touch. But mostly to take everything in, in those final moments before a light was usually extinguished. Or a flame fanned to the point of illumination.

And yet she also realized that man at his core loved to prove himself. In speaking, in their intelligence, in their prowess. She knew many, many gifted men, and most liked to speak. And so while he had allowed her some silence, she would grant him some conversation. "It was truly something, and you know I despise that word. In years before you were even contemplating the future, I knew Gotham. Her evolution to me is beautiful. Your dedication to her is admirable yet curious. Perhaps you should fully dominate her instead of Bruce, so you can polish Gotham to a sheen like Metropolis? Does the Alien not have a relative to instill in this city?" She was teasing him, and of course he was aware of that. You could not spend nights and days like they had without understanding the meaning behind the words; no matter what language they were being uttered.

She finished, and continued to watch the alternating sky and waterlines. The water was always something familiar and yet distant to her at the same time. Much like many in her life. Close to the point they would understand her until she would turn left, instead of right at a second's notice. They would claim it confused them. Or that it had been overtly emotional in a way they had assumed, overlaying their own neuroses and feelings upon her being like she were a mere blank page. And in some ways, she was. It had been her true upbringing. Become everything. Do the undoable. Achieve the adoration of someone who utterly despised your very being. There were ways around each and every task, and not each way was straight. Such was to be of the al Ghul line, a line that was not even named truly. Nomenclature was such a joke. Even within districts of cities, one thing would be called another. Take a sandwich. It could be called so many things, yet at it's core, made of the same three things. People were pedantic and she sighed, realizing they were going to correspond with those in Gotham. Even as the helicopter landed atop Gotham's beautiful buildings, even as the duo was ushered from the vehicle in a way that very few of the news outlets would even be able to catch the party as it descended into the building she could breathe. Not clean, fresh air, but air that had not been recycled within a small compartment by no fewer than 4 bodies for a time.

Helped from the helicopter she was given her handbag, and offered an arm. It was polite, yet un-needed. Yet she was not Talia al Ghul, nor Lailah here. She was Miranda Tate, here at the bequest of Alexander Luthor.  And as they were waved through by the receptionist to the conference room she had requested, she was there to announce that Bruce Wayne, would sadly not be joining them. That little interlude several nights prior had given her the leeway to secure the room with Dr. Arkham, as well as do away with the other consultant. LexCorp was already dealing with Selina Kyle, as Hariq had already laid plans during that benefit. It would be easier to speak with Doctor Arkham easier this way.

"Good day, Doctor Arkham. Mr. Wayne will not be joining us at this juncture, yet has graciously allowed his conference room be used in lieu of cancelling. You are already familiar with my colleague, Alexander Luthor, and no doubt myself, if you are a man who is of the sort that has ears to listen, or even eyes to see. Miranda Tate, head of LexCorp Gotham." Crisply her words were delivered, each pale glove peeled from her fingers and then tucked away.

[Avalikia]

Arriving even closer to on time that he'd expected, Mayor Quincy Sharp's hand appears to catch the elevator door before it closes, just barely managing having to avoid waiting for the next elevator. "Dr. Arkham..." he greets very politely, nodding slightly as he enters the elevator to join him on the ride up. He's not particularly fond of Dr. Arkham, but he knows that the feeling is mutual. But thanks to how things panned out with Arkham City, now they have the supreme joy of having to work with eachother occasionally.

To say that he's interested in this meeting tonight would be a gross overstatement - he'd much rather be at home, not having to cram one more meeting into his day. Which may cause one to ask why he's here at all, when he wasn't actually invited - at least not by the host. But Dr. Arkham happened to mention it during a different meeting, and it sounded like something he should stick his nose into even though he didn't want to. After all, Arkham City is his project... officially, at least. Or at least it was - the moment that he proposed it, it seemed like everyone crawled out of the woodwork wanting to have a hand in it, though he was able to fend most of them off. But not the city council - unfortunately, in addition to having an opinion they also have the authority to impose it. As a result, he's not happy with the project either. Not as unhappy as Dr. Arkham, but not happy nevertheless.

So when someone - he forgets if it was Dr. Arkham or himself - suggested that he should tag along to the meeting, that seemed like a wise thing to do. Though the doctor has a great deal of authority over the prison, it's limited. He doesn't have full authority either - in fact, between the two of them they don't have full authority - but adding him to the conversation does significantly increase the coverage. Though when he'd decided to come, he'd warned Dr. Arkham that the meeting time wasn't the best for him - in fact, he hadn't been sure whether or not he'd make it on time.

And he has, but almost immediately upon entering the elevator his cellphone rings. "What do you want? I'm almost to a meeting..." he answers the phone after glancing at the number. A brief conversation ensues - from what can be gathered from his side of the conversation, his secretary is trying to work out a scheduling conflict for the next day. When the elevator reaches their floor, he steps out but signals to Dr. Arkham that he'll be just a moment more and to go on without him.

As a result, he enters the room several steps behind the doctor, though fortunately before all the greetings are quite finished. "Ms. Tate? Mayor Sharp," he says, offering his hand and a slight smile - not the overemphasized, beaming one he gives the media, but one that indicates the pleasure of meeting without pretending to enthusiasm that he doesn't have. "Mr. Luthor," he acknowledges next, also extending a hand to him. He'll leave it to Dr. Arkham to explain his presence.