285/Amuse Bouche

Amuse Bouche
Date of Scene:	05 May 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, 142, Oracle

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Batman has posed:
Early evening in Gotham City. The sun's just beginning to pass below the skyline, and in highly commercial areas--such as Central Heights--the streets and sidewalks are abuzz with activity.

In 'Terre', one of the city's most highly regarded (and currently packed) restaurants, Bruce Wayne sits in a booth near the center of the space, his feet propped up on the table.

"Sir," a waiter asks, eyeing his shoes, "can...can I move you to a more comfortable spot?"

"Oh, no, I'm great," Bruce replies, grinning. "Maybe another bottle of wine, though."

"Certainly, sir," the waiter replies, rolling his eyes as he walks away.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
A buzz because a fashion thing. Small runway. Adrien had to work it, but when thw day was over dinner had to be had and where better rhan Terre. He moves in with his usual entorage though he wishes it wadnt needed, and waits politely, patiently, for tables to get sorted out. He's from a wealthy family, sure, but not enough to casually boot people from tables. As he waits, his green eyes spot Wayne and his feet on the table. An uncomfortable shift of weight is given and Adrien turns his gaze away. Never does the gentle and easy smile fade. Too public a soace to be anything but thw perfect Agreste his father needs him to be.

Oracle has posed:
Barbara Gordon was ahving a good week. Sure, there was that incident where that thug had beaned her over the head with a bat, (which she felt, in retrospect, was a bit ironic), but classes were going well, her internship was great - the multiple Batmans thing was cleared up, Bruce was back, her father was having a good week too, so...

Life was beautiful.

/And/, of course, she was getting to have a dinner at 'Terre'.

Dark heels worn, Barbara was wearing her little black dress with a shawl, the material of her black dress glittering with light as the sequins embroidered in it reflect the light of the resteraunt proper. Opals - as clear blue as her eyes, hung from her earrings, and her hair was done recently - cut and permed so that it flowed in a wave down from the back of her head, just enough bang to make it right.

Entering the resteraunt, Barbara's giddiness was evident in the way her nose was crinkled, as if she were three steps away from bursting. Barbara didn't get to eat out all fancy like this often - she imagined her dad didn't prefer places like this, but.. hey - an opportunity to pretty up? She'll take it.

Stepping past the waiter stand, the garcon - ever so politely, stands in her way. Barbara pauses a moment, blinking in disbelief at the man, before turning to point over his shoulder towards Bruce's table. "I'm with him." she says.

Glancing back towards Adrien, she says, in a stage-whisper. "Sheesh! It's like they have standards or something!" she jokes.

The garcon looks to Bruce for approval - or denial.

Batman has posed:
In the booth, Bruce slowly moves his legs off the table-top, jostling it enough to upset the assorted glassware. "Woops!" he says as he stands.

"She's with me!" Bruce calls, waving Barbara toward him. "Hell, let's get that whole crowd seated. You all can handle a ... what, a 24-top?" he asks, shrugging gently. "I hear that Adrien Agreste is /so hot/ right now," he says in a loud whisper. "It might do Terre some good to have a high-profile celebrity seen eating in it."

A few nearby patrons very politely attempt to ignore Bruce's continued talking. He raises an eyebrow, looking around. "I'm not that drunk," he says. "I was kidnapped! Cut me some slack!"

The world's most patient water replies with a very thin, strained smile. "Of course, sir. We'll get everyone seated right away. I will ask your patience with the service, given the chef's efforts to make sure everyone gets their dish once the order's in."

"Pshhh," Bruce says, waving dismissively. "Just get us everything on the menu and we'll have a family-style sampler." He gestures to the booth for Barbara. Looking to Adrien and the entourage, Bruce adds, "Sit--as many as we can fit--while a nearby table's all set up. Yes?"

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien smiles politely at Barbara's joke, head nodding lightly. Standards are a thing and a thing he has to follow to the letter most of the time. Her joking is warming, just that hint of being included in it by another person without regard to how it would look, eases him enough for the smile to reach his eyes .

Hearing Bruce call out draws Adrien's gaze and there is a start. Didnt he... die? The easy smile fades as the boy behind the cat's mask openly stares at Bruce in uneasy surprise and unmasked confusion. His confession to not being that drunk gets Adrien blinking, his brow furrowing.

Not really given a chance to get his facial expreasion back in order, Adrien is motioned forward with Barbara and the rest. He pauses one briefly to say something to the severe looking administrative assist (read: leash handler) in French. The woman nods, signalling for the two body guards he is with to follow but sit at a table as near to we-are-able-to-block-the-area as possible.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Wayne. My ....group dont need to sit here. I dont need to either, if I will be a bother," he says, accent on display. It's delicate, holding a touch of the Queen's English to its cadence, suggesting a high end British tutor. The young man is stylishlu dressed, the cut of his clothes accenting every line of his lean form. His eyes seem large and luminous, helped by the slight bit of eyeliner. A left over from the runway. At least he got the garish amount off before heading out, and thankfully there was no bright blue faux-hawks this time.

Oracle has posed:
Barbara, admittedly, was less used to the Bruce Wayne persona that Batman used. (Or was she just used to the Batman persona that Bruce Wayne used?) The garcon gives Barbara a /look/ that might speak volumes of how the waitstaff appreciated Bruce Wayne's patronage - or the trouble he caused, and they allowed, simply because of his money.

But the garcon's gaze softens, and he steps out of Barbara's way. "Madame."

And Barbara's smile springs back to her lips. Working her way through the crowd of patrons, and very aware of the eyes that were tracking her as she goes, Barbara steps near a seat at the table. "Bruce, it's so good to see you again!" she says.

"I was /so/ worried about you, when I heard you disappeared - and the kidnapping too... ah... Gotham is glad you're back, for sure." A beat, a handful of moments. A longer moment, and she kinda peers at Bruce. "Are you... drunk?" she says in disbelief. Barbara knew the answer, for sure, in the back of her mind. But they had to put on a show for Gotham.

That accent of Adrien's...? So familiar. Barbara gives the French model a long look, the redhead bringing her hand up to tuck a wayward strand of that crimson hair behind her ear.

Models, millionaires, and the rich of Gotham - Babs was out of her league. "So." she says. "I'm Barbara - Barbara Gordon." A beat. She felt she had to justify why she was here. "My father is the police chief?" she says, sliding into a seat across from Bruce.

Of course, she probably had more accomplishments than her father did, but... the world may never know those.

Batman has posed:
Bruce leans to kiss Barbara on the cheek, his hand on her back for a moment. "Barbara. So glad to see you. I'd feel positively awful if I were ..." He pauses a moment to stifle a burp. "...hoarding all of this fabulous alcohol." He offers his other hand in a gesture toward the booth.

Then, Bruce flashes a grin to Adrien. "The burden of the rich and powerful, eh, mon ami?" His French is a bit exaggerated. "Please, allow me to pay for your friends' dinner as well. If you're willing to join me--ah, /us/--it's the least I can do."

Bruce sits back down in the booth and raises a hand to a passing busboy. "Could you find our waiter and have him bring us all the pate and caviar you have?" The young man nods. "Wait!" Bruce calls out. "You might have heard me ask for a lot of pate and caviar. What I said was: bring me /all/ the pate and caviar you have."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
There seems to be nothing amazing about the blonde hair green eyed model. Excpet that he's a model. And a band of silver flashes from his right hand (Batgirl Note: same size, shapen finger as a certain beeping ring. Color is different though.) as he golds it out in offering to each, to shake hands in greeting.

"Adrien Agreste. Police chef is a very important position. Please give your father my highest regards for his service," Adrien says to Barbara smoothly with a genuine smile. Turning to Bruce, the Parisian man gives a nod.

"That is quite gracious of you, Mr. Wayne. It would be unthiughtful of me if I didnt extend a similar courtesy for the next time? My family has a standing table at Lucien that does noy get used nearly often enough," Adrien replies as he moves to settle himself at Barbara's side, because booth. Even as he spoke, Adrien had worked to keep his smile easy and warm at the comment of burdens. It would be so rude to his father to agree to that in any way shape or form, and despite all the heartache, being rude to his father was not somehing he wanted to even toy with. Othrr than struggle with his expression, Adrien made no remark to that part of Bruce's statement. Nor of the request for caviar.

Oracle has posed:
Barbara was way too observant to miss little details like that. And all in all - it didn't confirm who she was dealing with, but it /did/ make the part-time Batperson just a little more suspicious of the encounter. Not that that shows in her face. What she had was a bright smile as she leans over to take Adrien's hand - keeping her own hand a bit limp to hide the strength in it.

A law student shouldn't be that powerful, after all. "I will pass along your thanks for his service," says Babs. She can already imagine his face at the news that a glittery French model thanked him. Stoic. Like everything. Mostly.

But that left Bruce.

The kiss on her cheek, the hand on her back. She pats his forearm.

"...how much pate and caviar can one man eat?" says Babs. Those rich foods were... well... rich to her. "Aren't you worried about your figure?" jokes Babs with a quirk of her lips.

Batman has posed:
Bruce leans back, running a hand through his hair. "Lucien, you say?" he asks of Adrien. "I will have to go sometime. Perhaps the brilliant Ms. Gordon would join me. If," he adds, "I don't embarrass her by gorging myself on pate."

He chuckles and takes another sip of wine. "I didn't have very much to eat while kidnapped, you understand. And, now that I'm free, life seems so much more vivid." Another sip. "Of course, as I hear it told, I was purportedly dead. Who even knows what sort of bizarre paperwork screw-up that must have been?"

Bruce laughs again, more heartily, and places his glass back on the table. "But I speak too much. Tell me, how have your recent weeks been? Busy? Enjoyable? I want to hear everything--or everything I can before this grape lullaby rocks me to sleep."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien gives a nod to Bruce, not suspecting anything of Barbara at all. Her bright smile was just too dazzling a thing to be anything but thw truth. That those two can joke so easily turns Adrien's smile slightly wistful.

"Of coursen Mr. Wayne. I would be pleased to entertain you both," replies the young Agreste, green eyes moving back to Barbara as he offers another smile. A smile that once again falters as Bruce speaks of being dead. The explanation has Adrien nodsing lightly, though the thin line between hia brows remain. He never did get an answer about the murder from the bat dude. Well, not beyond a blanket denial. Followed by the two of them stopping an arm's shipment... The pensive expression fades slightly as Bruce asks of weeks. Assuming he is not the one being adddressed, Adrien sits back into hia own silence, face turning to Barbara to politely give her his attention.

Oracle has posed:
"Your kidnappers..." says Barbara, well aware that some of the patrons were craning their ears in the direction of their table. "I heard they left a very convincing body in your home. Some homeless fellow, if I remember right." says Barbara, bringing up a hand to scratch at the side of her own neck.

"I don't know if you want to hear /everything/ about me, Bruce. I lead a pretty boring life," says Barbara, with a little tick of the edge of her lipstick-painted lips.

"I mean, unless you /want/ to hear about the lit-review I did the other day, or that paralegal case I started building. And I can't really talk about specifics there..." says Batgirl. "What about you, Mr. Agreste?" says Barbara, flawlessly handling the French twists in the name.

"What have you been up to in the past few weeks?"

Batman has posed:
"Well..." Bruce begins, as if protesting Barbara's humility, but as she turns her attention to Adrien, the billionaire nods, smiling. "Yes! Yes! Let's hear /all/ about it. You're a model. What's it like on the ... what's the word ... the catwalk?"

He finishes his glass and loads caviar onto a blini. "I can't imagine what it would be like--that cutthroat world of fashion. I'm overwhelmed by the pace of ... whatever industries I oversee," he says with a shrug.

"I understand it's difficult, but that's what the experts and lawyers and all are for."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien had not expected to be asked about his life, and his eyes go wide. Uncertain how to navigate this plot twistn Adrien shifts uneasily.

"ummm... Well, being pushed into heels is uncomfortable.... and it can be brutal, sometimes. The walks are long and thw timw to change short. I am just grateful the the swimwear shoot wasnt scheduled in January this year..." A pause, the clearing of thriat. "I.. just moved here, from Paris, with my father. and i have been attending university. For Business and Media..."

Oracle has posed:
'Whatever industries I oversee'. Barbara rolls her eyes, looking back over towards Bruce. The annoyance in her eyes - not altogether false. Bruce was good at getting on her nerves! Even if it was an act. Reaching over, she loads up some caviar onto a little blini of her own, taking a bite of the stuff.

Kinda squinting her eyes at the taste.

"You don't seem like the shy kinda guy, Adrien." says Babs. A moment still, and she opens her mouth - a beep comes from her - two short beeps, then a long one. Barbara's face falls in a moment. "Oh, that's probably my father. I have to take it - he can be a worrier sometimes." A beat. "Can you excuse me, Adrien? I'll need to get out." No doubt Adrien would acquiesce, or at least, Babs would kinda step over him, on her way to the ladies room.

A glance over her shoulder towards Bruce - and for a moment, just a moment, he could see Batgirl in her eyes. That signal must have meant something more. "I'll be right back, gentlemen."

Batman has posed:
For just a split second, Bruce's full attention turns to Barbara's alerts. Then, he's back to the glassy gaze he's been offering.

"So, heels, huh? I'll confess that I'm not as up-to-date on French fashion as I should be. Are they coming into style? What would you recommend for someone like me?" He grins and shakes his head. "Apologies. This is just /fascinating/. Normally, I just outsource my dress to a trusted haberdasher."

He leans forward, resting his head in his hands. "Barbara will probably be a moment or two. But, tell me, what have your studies been like? I can barely remember my own time in college. So much socialization, you understand, it's all a hazy blur."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
The first beep also draws Adrien's attention. It sounds so much like his miraculous, when it's warning him.... The kneejerk attention shift slips toward soft concern on the next beep, and Adrien assumes it is just her cell phone. His assumption confirmedn Adrien all too politely moves from Barbara's way, hand held out to help her. A faint almost bow is given before Adrien retakes his seat.

He missed Bruce's sharp gaze.

"Sometimes. My father doesnt like them typically, but sometimes height is needed... especially on phtotshoots." Adrien says, knowing why some find it facsinating doesnt mean he does. Physics is so much more intriguing. But this is his life, and when asked, Adrien sits back to openly regard Bruce's frame.

"No. It is fine. If tou are intrrested I am happy to discuss it. hm... Blavk is surrly a striking color for you, but the charcoals and grays are more on trned this season. They gice the look of black without rhe heartless feel. A blue sheen woukd bring your eye color forward as well..." And then Bruce derails him by talking of hazy college days. Adrien blushes.

"Mybstudies have been ...excellent." what a lie.

Batman has posed:
"Height, I see, I see," Bruce mutters. "Think it might be useful for a board meeting? I mean, you did say you're a business student as well. Is that the kind of classes they have?"

He sits up a bit, arching his back to stretch as Adrien turns to discuss color. "Yes, yes. This is what I'm talking about. Thank you!" He looks down at his red 'power' tie. "I try for a splash of color, although I think I prefer black for the suits. My butler usually assembles my outfits ... I'm positively helpless without him."

A host of waiters begin bringing every dish on the Terre menu, crowding the table--and a second table, and then a third table--with celebrated foods of all kinds.

"Ah! Here we are. After you, please. Can't rely solely on that campus dining food, right?" Bruce grins. "I kid, of course."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien chuckles softly, trying to mask it a bit by turning his head.

"No, Monsieur. Defintely not a broadroom. I am a business student, yes. But the classes I have are the usual... risk management, profit lost calculations, and business calculus ti determine and predict rates of change in narket shares give supply demand and time." Adriend says, sounding falsely excited about business things.

"Splash of color is good. Socks and pocket squates arw also a good place foe atrong coloe. you can do a subtle hue in yiut shirts wuth a vibrant contrast in the lining." Back to fashion until thw food arrives. The quantity is surprising, but the well trained model selects a balanced affair. girlish figure and all.

Batman has posed:
"I'll have to see if we can get Wayne Enterprises to put a fashion consultant on the payroll," Bruce muses in between bites of steak. "Although probably not if it's just for me. I probably shouldn't let other Wayne employees' sense of style suffer, though, right?"

Bruce nods in thanks as his glass is refilled. "What colors would you recommend for me, if I can bother you a bit more? Does the red work? What about something like, I don't know, yellow?"

"For that matter," Bruce adds, "can I ask why you're studying business when it's clear that you've got a lucrative thing going with your modeling work?"

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien just nods, finally reaching now for the wine glass in front of himn sipping measuredly before cutting food into a bite sized morsel. He soes not speak with mouth full and so his respjnse is delayed slightly.

"I think you could do well in a host of shades, Mr. Wayne. The greys most notabky. Yellow for an accent, yes. any more than that could make tou look sick." Jaundiced.

"My father wishes for me to take over the company some day. The business side of it sooner rather thab later, so he can return to the studio, I think. I am happy to help him," Afrien says, eyes falling downcast slightly. The burden of living for the wishes of one's parent rathet than for one's own in conflict with wanting little more than to make said parent happy and proud, no matyer the personal costs.

Batman has posed:
"Your father?" Bruce asks, an eyebrow rising. "It seems like you're not entirely sold on your father's plan. Forgive me," he quickly adds. "I don't mean to speak out of turn regarding someone else's family life. It's just ..." Bruce sighs softly. "I lost my parents at a very young age. As a result, I tend to be very interested in others' parent-child dynamics." As he speaks, his elocution grows less 'drunken,' but then he slides back into it.

"If you've got the money to pave your own path, you could always do that, I suppose," Bruce shrugs. "The luxury of being wealthy in the first place."

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
There's a soft sigh and a gentle, tolerabt smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I... my condolences. I am not upset. You are not wrong, but I will still work to make him happy."

Here the blonde pauses as his smile turns sad before he bravely forces thw expression warm again.

"My mother disappeared years ago. She was a modeln and helped my father with the business aspect od his design company and fashion house. We... are all we have left for each other. So, even though I could, conceivably take my own road, I will not leave him conpletely alone." The risk that doing so would spiral his father into a depression deep enough and devastating enough to summon Pappillon's attention. The last thing Adrien would ever want to do is fight his own fathet, hero against supervillian.

Batman has posed:
Bruce nods energetically. "Of course, of course," he replies. "Is it embarrassing of me to note that I did not realize that your mother was a world-famous model, as well? That is--I assumed the name was common enough for the relation not to exist. But, it is. Family is the most important thing." Bruce finishes another glass of wine and sighs. "You and your father are very lucky to have one another. I'm sure he appreciates your help. Forgive my overreach."

He wipes his mouth and clears his throat. "As a token of my apology, I'm ordering some dessert for us." The table, of course, is still packed with every dish on the menu. "And perhaps we can find a decent club to ..." Bruce yawns loudly. "...forgive me. A decent club to ... to ..."

Bruce slowly falls over in the booth like a tree that's been cut, until his cheek hits the cushion and he's quietly snoring.

Adrien Agreste (142) has posed:
Adrien had been sitting stiff and proper and elegant.. right until Bruce passes out. Green eyes go wide as no one else seems to panic. Hell they dont even seem to notice.

Alarm growing, Adrien putts his fork down, slips from his sest, and moves ariund to check in Bruce.

"Mr. Wayne? Mr. Wayne? " he calls out, right hand reaching out tonshake bruce lightly.

Batman has posed:
"Guhh? Hmm?" Bruce mumbles incoherently as he's woken back up. "I ... ooh." He rubs his eye and attempts to smoothe his hair.

"Adrien. Further apologies are due, I'm afraid." Bruce stifles another yawn. "It seems I'm just not good dinner company. Alfred told me I should just dine in this evening ... as I said, I'm positively helpless without him."

Bruce slips out of the booth and offers a brief nod. "Please. Stay and enjoy your meal. Have all you like. I'll make sure you're taken care of." He stretches his arms out to his sides. "I don't want to embarrass you further by being seen with such a buffoon. My car is out front ... Alfred will see me home and to bed."

He leans in to a nearby waiter, offering a credit card and a sizeable bundle of cash. The waiter nods and quickly disappears into the kitchen.

"Please look me up sometime when it's earlier in the day. Or, perhaps, when I've not had so much to drink."