When Stars Collide
Hey.
This is especially for sempai. Happy birthday, baby. :3
I did promise I'd try to write this, so here it is... didn't particularly turn out the way I planned, and I think there's some characterization issues, but humour me... I'm months outta practice. X3 Hope ya have a wonderful birthday, k? And can't wait to see you back here soon. ;)
Talks Over Whisky
He smiled as the bartender cocked an eyebrow.
'Can I have a shot of whisky, please. Suntory Hibiki, 30 years old, straight up.'
His grin widened as the bartender immediately turned to get a shot glass. He'd been mildly worried that the place wouldn't have any of it, and wasn't too keen on anything else at the moment. After all, ever since his first visit to New York, he'd figured he'd have to start things off with a nice, stiff drink if he wished to maintain whatever little sanity he still possessed.
He nodded lightly in acknowledgement as the bartender placed the shot glass before him, then proceeded, while sipping, to the huge gothic windows that lined the upscale penthouse club. Not to say that it was pretentious. Far from it, in fact. The muted designs and color palette paid generous tribute to the architecture, and enhanced the dark mood it possessed, as did the strange musical arrangement of Albinoni and Rachmaninoff.
Smiling to himself, he leaned against a pillar as he stared out at the city spread out below him. Strangely enough, Bruce Wayne felt right at home.
Taking another pull from his shot, he stared at the sea of blinking lights, wondering whether his leads were worth his trouble. The news that Dent has resurfaced here, of all places, made little sense, and his supposed plans at weapons acquisition were even more ridiculous. They could've been taken care of just as easily in Gotham, without any need for the long travail to this city, but...
He couldn't leave the rumours alone. Harvey had become more and more erratic in his actions ever since his accident, and the last thing he wanted was to leave something to chance that might end up with dire consequences. Especially since Gotham was getting messier as time went by, and he hadn't been too keen on leaving things unmonitored.
'Nice out there, isn't it? It's a beautiful city at night, when you can't see everything too clearly.'
Bruce winced a little. He wasn't sure when he'd let his guard down, but apparently, it'd been enough for him not to steer clear of present company, who he usually avoided like the plague. The gentleman who'd joined him was jarringly irritating. Everything about him screamed 'look at me', from the flashy Versace suit with no tie and undone cuffs, to the shot glass of Islay whisky he was swirling, to the lopsided, almost predatory, grin on his goateed face. To say he looked out of place in the quiet club they were in was a gross understatement.
'Tony,' the man said, extended his right hand. 'Tony Stark, of Stark Enterprises. Never thought I'd see the illustrious Bruce Wayne come over to a hovel like New York though. Comes as quite a surprise.'
Controlling an abrupt need to crush Stark's hand between his fingers, Bruce smiled and shook his hand.
'Charmed, I'm sure. Some personal affairs require my presence here for a while. And what gives me the honor of speaking to Iron Man?' True to form, Stark had brazenly announced his alter ego to the world at a press conference. Granted, he was well-placed enough for it not to have any major effect on his business and holdings, or on him proper, given his lack of enemies at the time, but the reckless disregard for himself and those around him irked him mightily. Then again, I'm sure Alfred has a lot to say about me too...
Stark grinned his megawatt grin as he puffed up and preened himself a little. Bruce wondered if the electromagnet in his chest was contributing to how bright his smile was - it was near blinding.
Still, it was obvious by his gaze that Stark was no fool. He'd managed to locate him and get physically close to him, bespeaking not only intelligence and resourcefulness, but also a fair amount of physical prowess. Now all that remained was to ascertain what he was here for.
'Look, let's cut the chatter and get down to business,' Stark said, making Bruce blink at the sudden change in his demeanour. 'You know who I am. Almost everyone does nowadays. What I want to know is who you are, and why you're here."
"Your company profile is amazingly neutral, meaning you've sunk your fingers into so many pies no one really knows what to make of your investments in general. The only thing you haven't done so far is to go overtly into military tech, which I'm sure you're into on the sly. Who isn't, right?"
Bruce shrugged his shoulders non-commitally. He'd been forced to, but it did have its rewards. While he contributed armour and devices and vehicle designs to ensure personal safety, he'd been able to upgrade his own equipment. It was either that, or he rely solely on his skills and prayer, and prayer didn't stop bullets.
"Now what I want to know is why you're here in New York, attending a military tech conference, and why it is that there have suddenly been sightings of the Batman around these parts all of a sudden."
Bruce found no difficulty maintainking his mask of composure. Apparently the folks in New York were more alert, or at least more outspoken than their Gotham brethren. "I'm not sure I get what you mean, Mr Stark-"
"Tony. Please."
"Tony, then. I'm not sure what you're getting at."
Stark leaned in a little closer, making Bruce lean back just a fraction. He was starting to get impressed with this strange man. It was the first time in a long time he'd actually felt as if he was being backed into a corner, and this by a shorter, almost slightly built man.
"Don't play coy with me, Wayne. I'm not stupid, and I entertained the idea of being my own bodyguard before. I don't know and I don't care if you're the Batman, or if he's in your employ. Just make sure the Bat doesn't tread on any toes here. This is my city, and if he wants to start one of his little wars here, like you've had in Gotham, I will personally pin his wings before I decimate whichever hobo he's chosen to come after. Are we clear on this?"
Bruce smiled and raised his eyebrows.
"Well... I'll try to let him know? Though I must say you've got a rather overactive imagination there. I don't know who he is, and I've always thought vigilanteism was too... vulgar for words."
Stark stared intently at him, almost as if he were tempted to hack into his brain, then shrugged.
"Just tell him," he said as he turned to leave. "I'm a territorial man, and I like my city the way it is. Please don't make me have to sweep up afterwards, or I'll be very, very annoyed."
Bruce smiled and turned back to stare out the window again as he listened to the sound of Stark's Ferragamos against the black marble floor fade.
Things were going to be interesting.
This is especially for sempai. Happy birthday, baby. :3
I did promise I'd try to write this, so here it is... didn't particularly turn out the way I planned, and I think there's some characterization issues, but humour me... I'm months outta practice. X3 Hope ya have a wonderful birthday, k? And can't wait to see you back here soon. ;)
Talks Over Whisky
He smiled as the bartender cocked an eyebrow.
'Can I have a shot of whisky, please. Suntory Hibiki, 30 years old, straight up.'
His grin widened as the bartender immediately turned to get a shot glass. He'd been mildly worried that the place wouldn't have any of it, and wasn't too keen on anything else at the moment. After all, ever since his first visit to New York, he'd figured he'd have to start things off with a nice, stiff drink if he wished to maintain whatever little sanity he still possessed.
He nodded lightly in acknowledgement as the bartender placed the shot glass before him, then proceeded, while sipping, to the huge gothic windows that lined the upscale penthouse club. Not to say that it was pretentious. Far from it, in fact. The muted designs and color palette paid generous tribute to the architecture, and enhanced the dark mood it possessed, as did the strange musical arrangement of Albinoni and Rachmaninoff.
Smiling to himself, he leaned against a pillar as he stared out at the city spread out below him. Strangely enough, Bruce Wayne felt right at home.
Taking another pull from his shot, he stared at the sea of blinking lights, wondering whether his leads were worth his trouble. The news that Dent has resurfaced here, of all places, made little sense, and his supposed plans at weapons acquisition were even more ridiculous. They could've been taken care of just as easily in Gotham, without any need for the long travail to this city, but...
He couldn't leave the rumours alone. Harvey had become more and more erratic in his actions ever since his accident, and the last thing he wanted was to leave something to chance that might end up with dire consequences. Especially since Gotham was getting messier as time went by, and he hadn't been too keen on leaving things unmonitored.
'Nice out there, isn't it? It's a beautiful city at night, when you can't see everything too clearly.'
Bruce winced a little. He wasn't sure when he'd let his guard down, but apparently, it'd been enough for him not to steer clear of present company, who he usually avoided like the plague. The gentleman who'd joined him was jarringly irritating. Everything about him screamed 'look at me', from the flashy Versace suit with no tie and undone cuffs, to the shot glass of Islay whisky he was swirling, to the lopsided, almost predatory, grin on his goateed face. To say he looked out of place in the quiet club they were in was a gross understatement.
'Tony,' the man said, extended his right hand. 'Tony Stark, of Stark Enterprises. Never thought I'd see the illustrious Bruce Wayne come over to a hovel like New York though. Comes as quite a surprise.'
Controlling an abrupt need to crush Stark's hand between his fingers, Bruce smiled and shook his hand.
'Charmed, I'm sure. Some personal affairs require my presence here for a while. And what gives me the honor of speaking to Iron Man?' True to form, Stark had brazenly announced his alter ego to the world at a press conference. Granted, he was well-placed enough for it not to have any major effect on his business and holdings, or on him proper, given his lack of enemies at the time, but the reckless disregard for himself and those around him irked him mightily. Then again, I'm sure Alfred has a lot to say about me too...
Stark grinned his megawatt grin as he puffed up and preened himself a little. Bruce wondered if the electromagnet in his chest was contributing to how bright his smile was - it was near blinding.
Still, it was obvious by his gaze that Stark was no fool. He'd managed to locate him and get physically close to him, bespeaking not only intelligence and resourcefulness, but also a fair amount of physical prowess. Now all that remained was to ascertain what he was here for.
'Look, let's cut the chatter and get down to business,' Stark said, making Bruce blink at the sudden change in his demeanour. 'You know who I am. Almost everyone does nowadays. What I want to know is who you are, and why you're here."
"Your company profile is amazingly neutral, meaning you've sunk your fingers into so many pies no one really knows what to make of your investments in general. The only thing you haven't done so far is to go overtly into military tech, which I'm sure you're into on the sly. Who isn't, right?"
Bruce shrugged his shoulders non-commitally. He'd been forced to, but it did have its rewards. While he contributed armour and devices and vehicle designs to ensure personal safety, he'd been able to upgrade his own equipment. It was either that, or he rely solely on his skills and prayer, and prayer didn't stop bullets.
"Now what I want to know is why you're here in New York, attending a military tech conference, and why it is that there have suddenly been sightings of the Batman around these parts all of a sudden."
Bruce found no difficulty maintainking his mask of composure. Apparently the folks in New York were more alert, or at least more outspoken than their Gotham brethren. "I'm not sure I get what you mean, Mr Stark-"
"Tony. Please."
"Tony, then. I'm not sure what you're getting at."
Stark leaned in a little closer, making Bruce lean back just a fraction. He was starting to get impressed with this strange man. It was the first time in a long time he'd actually felt as if he was being backed into a corner, and this by a shorter, almost slightly built man.
"Don't play coy with me, Wayne. I'm not stupid, and I entertained the idea of being my own bodyguard before. I don't know and I don't care if you're the Batman, or if he's in your employ. Just make sure the Bat doesn't tread on any toes here. This is my city, and if he wants to start one of his little wars here, like you've had in Gotham, I will personally pin his wings before I decimate whichever hobo he's chosen to come after. Are we clear on this?"
Bruce smiled and raised his eyebrows.
"Well... I'll try to let him know? Though I must say you've got a rather overactive imagination there. I don't know who he is, and I've always thought vigilanteism was too... vulgar for words."
Stark stared intently at him, almost as if he were tempted to hack into his brain, then shrugged.
"Just tell him," he said as he turned to leave. "I'm a territorial man, and I like my city the way it is. Please don't make me have to sweep up afterwards, or I'll be very, very annoyed."
Bruce smiled and turned back to stare out the window again as he listened to the sound of Stark's Ferragamos against the black marble floor fade.
Things were going to be interesting.