494/Bruce Wayne Might Know

Bruce Wayne Might Know
Date of Scene:	19 May 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Deadzone

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Batman has posed:
In stately Wayne manor, a tall, slim butler with a British accent leads the visitor into a warmly lit sitting room.

In the room, Bruce Wayne, dressed in a tennis outfit, rises to his feet and smiles. "Good afternoon, Ms. ... O'Neal, I believe?" He glances to the butler, who nods slightly.

Wayne smiles more widely. "Welcome to my home. Please, have a seat. Alfred was going to bring in some cucumber sandwiches, if you're interested in a snack. Maybe some tea?" He raises his eyebrows. "They're delicious..."

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum nods politely to the butler as she is shown the way in. Let it not ever be said that the goth does not know how to dress to impress. True, she is still wearing mostly black, but Tate has gone for a more corporate goth look today.

An amused look crosses Ms. O'Neal's face upon seeing Bruce Wayne. Not what she would have expected at all. Mind you, he is reputed to be the playboy type. Still, nothing like Tony Stark at all. Which might me she doesn't get hit on. Splendid.

She offers out her hand. "Mr. Wayne, it is an honor to meet with you. Thank you for seeing me" She nods her head to the offer of the snack and tea, smoothing down the back of her skirt as she sits down.

Batman has posed:
Dropping himself into a heavily cushioned chair, Bruce drapes himself on one armrest and clears his throat. "So, tell me. What brings you here? I don't think I get many visitors from up your way..." he says, drifting off. "Or maybe I do. Who can say? I don't know most of the attendees at the various events we hold here."

Bruce lifts himself from his lounging posture just enough to shrug. "I find myself far more interested in my back-hand. It takes some dedication, though, and I just can't bring myself to get much better."

Meanwhile, Alfred disappears down a nearby hall and returns not long after with a silver tray on which a platter of diagonal-cut sandwiches and teacups are set. "Sugar, miss?" Alfred asks quietly.

Deadzone has posed:
Looking at the playboy millionaire, Tatum has to question if this really was a smart idea. Does she really want young David to start behaving like this? What is it about rich people with nothing better to do with their time? At least Tony wastes his time being Iron Man. Still, she keeps her poker face on, trying not to let her thoughts show. "No, Mr. Wayne, we have never met. However, for all accounts into your younger life, you seemed to be just the person I needed to talk to about one of my students. His life seems to be echo'ing your early years and I was hoping you could help me to find a way to direct him on a less violent path then he seems to be heading."

Glancing up to the butler, Tatum nods her head. "Three please," she tells him before returning back to business. "We have a new student at our school who has been on the run for the last two years after witnessing his parents murder. All he thinks about is revenge. And I am at an increasing loss for how to help him."

Batman has posed:
"I see," Bruce replies, and any mirth in his expression fades. He sits quietly for a long moment and pushes himself upright in the chair.

"Revenge..." he says, running a hand through his hair. "That's a powerful thing, to be honest. I spent a considerable portion of my childhood fueled by it. You don't really grow out of it--not fully."

Bruce reaches for a sandwich, looking at it. "What kinds of programs are there? Extracurricular programs, that is. I might have gotten better at tennis a long time ago if I'd thought to pick it up back then." He smiles briefly, but it's fleeting.

"Do you need funding for some sort of program, if there isn't any at the school?"

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum nods, her face serious. "I know. And frankly, I don't want him going down that path. I've seen where it can take a person. I don't want him having that burden if I can at all help it. But I don't know how to advise him. My own experience was to give in to it and then have to pull myself out of the hell I had created for myself. I can't, in good conscience, let him follow the path I took."

Taking the cup of tea that is offered to her, Tatum nods her head politely to Alfred, thanking him softly. "Xavier's Institute has all manners of extracurricular activities. We have the pool, tennis court, stables. We have a music program that is co-taught by Alison Blair and myself. We also teach self defense classes and we have an extensive gym for those who are physically inclined. It wasn't money I was looking for, Mr. Wayne, but advice from someone who has had a similar experience. He was 13 when it happened. He's been running ever since, afraid to stop, lest they find him and kill him too."

Batman has posed:
The billionaire sighs and sets the sandwich down on the armrest of his chair. Alfred the butler slips over and silently removes it.

"I don't suppose your student has a family fortune to lean on." Bruce smiles thinly. "That was a joke."

He brushes his palms on one another. "The most valuable advice I could offer won't be heard. It can't be. This much I know for certain--because I didn't believe it when it was told to me, either." Bruce exhales through his nostrils. "When you've got a wound that fresh, you 'know' that no one else can understand your pain. That you're alone ... even though you're not."

Bruce taps his chest. "To really reach him here, you don't need someone like me. You need someone like Alfred. He's been with my my entire life. He's a support structure of pure love. When I raged, when I hurt, when I was lost ... it was Alfred that calmed me, and patched me together, and helped me find myself."

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum smiles. "Well, actually, yes. Like yourself, his family was both very wealthy as well as socially prominent. He is the last living member of the Akenda family, from Japan. I hope I haven't said too much by telling you that. We are trying to keep the fact that he is with us a secret."

Listening to Bruce, Tate closes her eyes and nods. "I didn't believe it either and it got me into nothing but trouble and pain. I want to save him if I can." She looks over to the butler and smiles at him as she sees him in a new light. "Then perhaps it is your butler I should be talking to. I've been trying to be a source of calm and support, but I don't think I'm doing a very good job of it."

Batman has posed:
"If I may say," Alfred says quietly, "Master Bruce is merely being humble. I am certain he would greatly enjoy helping with the boy."

Bruce turns to look at the butler for a long moment. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it, and smiles, a smile more polite than warm.

"Perhaps I can stop by the school at some point and talk with him. But I'm certain he wouldn't listen to me. I wouldn't listen to me ... then /or/ now," he adds, shaking his head.

"Does he have a decent social support structure at the school? Other students?"

Deadzone has posed:
Tatum hides her smile in her cup of tea as she watches the dynamic between butler and billionaire. She thinks that this Alfred gentleman is charming, and his talents with social engineering are marvellous.

"Well, he won't listen to me either, so at the very least he'll be able to say that he met the famous Bruce Wayne and I'll be able to say I told you so when you tell him everything I did," she tells the billionaire with a twinkle of mirth in her eyes.

"Sadly, our student body is predominantly female at this time. Especially with it being the summer semester and many students having left to be with their families. Some of the students have proved to be a little jealous of the things he has. A family heirloom has come up in conversation a few times.`

Batman has posed:
Bruce cracks a grin. "I'll admit ... if I were at a school full of girls when I was younger, I probably would have found it a lot easier to cope."

He sighs heavily and leans back. "Alright. I'll make a trip up soon. Alfred, you'll get the arrangements taken care of?"

"At once, sir," the butler replies in a flat tone, his posture impeccable.

"Okay. Good. Good!" Bruce adds, a bit of cheer entering his voice again. "Tell me, Ms. O'Neal. Do you have a tennis coach at the school? Or maybe polo?"

Deadzone has posed:
The business of David Akenda dealt with, Tatum relaxes in her chair. She rests her cup of tea in her lap. "You know, I don't actually know if we do. I am not a fan of either, so I never spent the time to find out. I could tell you anything you wanted to know about our music department. Or the home economics department. I'm afraid that I'm a little boring to talk with. I'm rather focussed on my work."

Batman has posed:
"Ah," Bruce says, expression dropping. "Well, that's a shame. Still ... maybe some aggression can be exercised out nonetheless. I'll try to bring a few extra rackets and the like, just in case."

He rests his elbow on an armrest and smiles. "No, no. You're positively fascinating. There's a lot to be said for devoting yourself to your work. It really says a lot about you. Or," he adds with a quick grin, "that's what it seems like from the perspective of a dilettante."

Bruce takes a deep breath. "The real trick, of course, is not letting your work consume you altogether. Taking a trip out to the estate, like you did. That's got to do wonders for dealing with the daily grind."

Deadzone has posed:
"Well, I have to admit, now that the spring semester is over, I don't have a lot to do. Most of the students are gone, and the ones that are staying are focussing on classes that are more serious, in order to catch up. Cooking, sewing and music are put on the back burner for the summer, except for the few students that practice their instruments daily."

She shifts in her chair, crossing her ankles. "My music was the only thing that ever interested me. It was easy to be devoted to it. But, with Alison Blair teaching at the Institute, I have time on my hands. And what better way to spend my extra time then teaching the students to take care of themselves?"

Tate gets a playful smile that shines in her pale blue eyes. "Tell me, Mr. Wayne, do you cook?" She takes a quick glance to see what Alfred's reaction to the quesion will be.

Batman has posed:
"I do," Bruce replies with a smirk. "Not very well, though. As many of my executive officers are fond of saying ... I have people for that."

He pauses. "Although, if you consider 'owning several restaurants' to equal 'cooking', then I suppose I don't do so badly after all in the kitchen. But that's probably not what you meant."

"Besides," Bruce adds, "I'm probably the last person who should pretend I can take care of myself in any way. I'm doted on constantly." He glances over his shoulder to his butler. "/Not/ counting Alfred, even. I don't consider that 'doting', per se."

The billionaire chuckles and shakes his head. "If you ever find yourself in a situation where you've got servants, I hope you're lucky enough to see them as family."

Deadzone has posed:
"I can honestly say that I don't ever see myself as having servants. Unless you count my students being made to make dinners for the whole school during the week. That's about as close as I get." Tatum smiles warmly to Bruce. "I have to say, you have been a delight to speak with. You aren't at all what I would have imagined a billionaire playboy philanthropist to be like."

She places the cup down on the tray and smooths her skirt down over her knees. "I should be going back to the school. It's a rather long commute."

Batman has posed:
"Well," Bruce replies with a soft chuckle, "I suppose next time we'll have to meet for an evening in town. You might find the party scene a bit different from a relaxing afternoon at home."

As Tatum mentions needing to leave, Bruce stands. "I wouldn't think of keeping you from returning home when you desire. The Gotham traffic can, certainly, be tricky--to say nothing of the winding driveway out front. I have to go out in the country to really test out some of the cars in the garage..."

Alfred stares passively from a spot near the entryway.

"Please, don't be a stranger. And we'll make sure to get that visit set up," Bruce says, hands sliding into his pockets.

Deadzone has posed:
Standing, Tatum offers her hand to Bruce. But his words definitely get her attention. "Cars? I would love to see if you have anything that ... " She pauses then, having realized she was about to flirt with someone that is practically a stranger to her. "Maybe someday I could see your collection. I haven't been able to really drive since I got here to teach." Well, that's mostly the truth.

She waves farewell and gets into the loaner car that was rented for the soul purpose of driving from New York to Gotham and back, happy that the meeting went so smoothly.