Roberta Bryce Wayne / slightly tweaked Nolanverse, Batman Begins-ish / barway

[mm_adiva]

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[dangerousbotany]

When Pamela Isley only narrowly escaped death in the terrible, horrible lab accident that mysteriously took the life of her dear mentor Jason Woodrue ... well, let's just say a few crocodile tears were shed. Academic politics more or less demanded that she exhibit some grief.

Rumors can be so toxic.

Now she's got bigger fish to fry, however, which doesn't preclude her slipping off occasionally to this charming interdimensional getaway.

"There's been some scientific skepticism about the supposed benefits of green tea."

[gothamsheiress]

Bryce tosses back the Tylenol that Bar provides, then picks up the tea and wraps her hands around the warm mug. The heat feels good on her sore hands.

She takes a sip, then glances sidelong at the redhead. Very pretty, she notes absently.

"That so?"

[dangerousbotany]

"Some say it's all a mass-marketing ploy engineered by the powerful anti-oxidant lobby."

Ivy smiles, leaning her elbows on the counter.

"But mostly I've read it's those cancer-curing claims you have to watch out for."

[gothamsheiress]

"Well, at least it's not harmful, right?"

[allthebrightest]

A young woman, maybe nineteen or twenty, steps in the front door wearing layered shirts, her sleeves and hands smudged with some unidentifiable dark grime. When she recognizes her surroundings, she lights up and bounces over to the bar.

"Hi! Coffee!" Coffee happens. "Bar you are the best."

Her fingers leave smears of engine oil on the shiny white sides of the mug.

[gothamsheiress]

Bryce glances sideways, automatically cataloging information. The grime -- oil and grease, by the smell of it -- gets special notice.

[allthebrightest]

Tony does not notice. This coffee requires all of her attention.

(As she lifts the cup, her T-shirt pulls tight across her chest for a moment, a few inches below her collarbone. There's a shape outlined there, like part of the edge of a circle, delineated too sharply to be an oddly shaped fold in one of the layers underneath.)

[gothamsheiress]

In an absent, tired sort of way, Bryce would have to admit that she's interested in the way Tony's T-shirt pulls tight across her chest. That odd little edge is a distraction.

Focus, Bryce. Nineteen is a little young to pursue, even for an heiress.

[innermuses]

There's an art in looking like a billionaire play-person that goes beyond the make-up and outfit. For example, the tall redhead who comes up to the bar beside her is wearing nothing more fancy than jeans and a white shirt, leather jacket being placed on a stool the other side of him.

It's all in the label of those clothes. And how one wears them.

He orders himself a banana-and-soy smoothie before turning a charming oh-so-harmless grin towards his new neighbor.

"Let me guess, I should see the other guy."

[gothamsheiress]

"Hmm?" Bryce hums blandly, glancing at him over her cup. Those jeans look expensive.

[innermuses]

She should see the shoes at the bottom of those jeans, really. But we'll forgive her is her eyes linger on the jean contents a while longer.

He nods vaguely towards her arms. "Last I checked, you didn't get bruises like that from Pilates."

[gothamsheiress]

He does fill them out nicely. She appreciates the aesthetics in an intellectual sort of way.

"You haven't met my Pilates instructor," she says with a wry smirk.

[no_thief]

The thing about the type of training Bryce has had: it makes one rather more alert to anything trying to conceal itself.

Or anyone.

There's a small shape under a nearby table, very far back in the shadows.

[gothamsheiress]

A tiny movement catches her attention -- not the right pattern of motion to be a waitrat.

She pauses, the mug of tea halfway to her mouth, and turns her head the slightest bit towards the hidden person.

[no_thief]

Something shifts under the table, drawing further back -- and then nothing moves. At all.

[gothamsheiress]

"I already know you're there," Bryce says, quiet and matter-of-fact. "Is there a reason you're hiding?"