take your hatred out on me
He should probably be doing this in something better than jeans and a black button-up shirt, but-- oh well. Maybe he can rationalize it as training. If he can do this in sneakers, etc etc, and so on. Or maybe Alfred is right across the board, and there's something about the thrill of doing completely insane thing that gets him off and keeps him coming back. At least here, nobody knows to fret.
Way, way up high in the Nexus, there's a garden of steel, and it slowly grows and sways in the wind; the AVF keeps anybody who falls from dying on impact on the ground, but it still probably wouldn't feel great. Bruce has no intention of finding out just how it feels, however, even as he slips over another edge and lands with impossible grace on a wire that's stretching slowly to another alien building. He pauses there, crouched, feet shifting just a little here and there as the wind blows, and watches the clouds.
Way, way up high in the Nexus, there's a garden of steel, and it slowly grows and sways in the wind; the AVF keeps anybody who falls from dying on impact on the ground, but it still probably wouldn't feel great. Bruce has no intention of finding out just how it feels, however, even as he slips over another edge and lands with impossible grace on a wire that's stretching slowly to another alien building. He pauses there, crouched, feet shifting just a little here and there as the wind blows, and watches the clouds.