hung down with the freaks and the ghouls
He's not going to tell Richard that he ended up texting Ra's al Ghul while tanked on Nyquil.
Ever.
Bruce enters, tugging at the collar of his jacket to straighten it. He's carrying a box, and if anyone has super-senses, they will probably notice the box before him.
The Brucolac has such senses! What does he notice?
The Brucolac 's tongue starts flickering at the box. His expression becomes a bit XI for a moment, but then he gets over it. "Godspit, what have you got in that thing?"
Bruce: "...I actually have no idea."
Nuala arrives about now, with her (glowing, why) hands hidden in her sleeves and- "What on earth?" ...she can smell it, her face is amazing.
Bruce looks faintly apologetic. "So I guess it's not a bomb."
Nuala: "It has a stench."
Bruce: "...Yeah."
Richard trails in, muffled in a peacoat and a scarf, looking cold and vaguely sheepish, the latter of which does not diminish upon seeing Bruce. He doesn't say hi due to the ongoing conversation.
Bruce looks over at him like-- oh there you are ... though that's pretty mild, too.
The Brucolac stands at once. {"Shazhadi."} ONE DAY, Nuala, you will get to hang out with BB when he is in a good mood.
Nuala: {"Hello, dear."} Nuala is mannerly, and will keep her language switch only to greetings before she goes to find her tea.
The Brucolac: "You, my dear, gather dangerous friends faster than anyone I know. Including myself, and it is offensive to my dignity." He is so very glad to see you.
Bruce feels like there's something he's missing now and... he probably is, because these people are from Planet DnD. But he nods at the princess.
Nuala: "I don't know what you're talking about, dear. Did you meet Lestat?" So she does know what he's talking about. Would 'Tom' like something nonalcoholic while she's fetching them?
Richard shrugs a little, settling into a chair with his hands in his coat pockets, and aims a mock-pathetic look at Bruce, as in 'hugs? No? Okay.'
Bruce gives Richard a 'don't dare me to embarrass you when I'm fully capable' look - that is totally possible for a look, listen - and then moves to set his Mystery Box aside and help Nuala get teacups.
Richard sniffs meekly. :3
The Brucolac: "Yes indeed." She may have a lingering sense of Lestat from this very bar, in fact, since they were in it not long ago.
Nuala: "He's very nice. -would you like this or this?" Teas. To Tom.
Noel ...exists, dressed for Serious Fucking Winter, because he's from North Dakota. Blah blah NOT HIS CLASSROOM blah never look surprised by anything, the seventh graders can smell fear. "....well, that was unintentional."
The Brucolac watches Bruce idly, and despite the gossip-fest, is still curious about whatever the hell is in that box.
Nuala is utterly refusing to gossip, or look even a little bit embarrassed.
Bruce: "Sure." A beat. "I hope you're well." ... Well, she's a princess, he has manners.
The Brucolac: "He's exceedingly earnest, and completely unashamed, which is not quite the same." There is no disapproval in his raspy voice, just a desire for a more accurate description than 'nice'.
Bruce looks up at Noel with something resembling a wordless hello.
Nuala: "I am, yes, and are- hello, are you all right?" Nuala is nice, which means she interrupts herself when Noel registers.
The Brucolac gives up on the conversation for the moment, because there are other people in the room to be polite to. And wow, this person tastes interesting.
Richard empathizes with your outerwear, Noel. He gives him a little smile.
Noel: "I'm--yes, thank you, I'm okay." He sounds sort of faint, but it is mostly in a ~*wondering*~ way, not like 'oh GOD fleeing,' ...maybe mostly because 'God' would be inappropriate, but never mind. "If that's tea, does coffee follow somewhere?" Assuming logic exists wherever here is. PS he smells like a whole lot of Really Old Nonsense mingling somewhat uncomfortably with ...New Nonsense.
Nuala: "I think so, but I don't know where it is..." She takes a step back where she's standing to have a look, helpfully.
Noel: Or ...tastes, please don't actually taste him.
Bruce points at the coffee maker.
Richard halts with his tongue extended -- no. No he does not.
Nuala has this 'is THAT what that is' expression on her face, just ... ignore it.
The Brucolac ...is, but that is because he's got the vermonasal apparatus to go with the tongue, and thus can't really...help it. Look, at least he is being creepy quietly, over here, by himself.
Bruce: "It's the only thing in here I know how to use." .... The seriousness in which he says this should actually be kind of sad, but.
Richard looks innocently astonished, Bruce. But to Noel, he says, "Sit down, I'll make a pot."
Bruce sees how it is.
The Brucolac: "Unintentional in the sense that you have never been here before, sir?"
Noel: As long as there's no active licking, they're fine! Noel shoots Mr. Tongue there a glance, like '....huh,' (I'VE SEEN YOU IN BOOKS ...also Bismarck is full of vampires lately for some reason :() and sort of stops mid-everything to Grateful at his new fellow in Overdressed. Capital letters. "Thank you, I think I won't try to operate anything with boiling water just at this moment."
Noel: "Noel," he returns faintly, because 'sir' is for people who are around five feet tall. "I think I've been detoured, yes."
Bruce: "It happens."
The Brucolac: "I see. This particular bar, or the nexus itself, Noel?" Apparently he is in charge of sorting people out. It's a living.
Richard chuckles as he goes to do coffee pot related things. Possibly he would even grind the beans RIGHT THERE AND THEN but that tends to halt conversation, so, instant it is.
Bruce is having tea because a freaking elf princess is making it. Otherwise he'd probably end up with coffee.
Nuala makes wonderful tea. (And when an elf princess makes it for you, you drink the damn tea.)
Noel doesn't care as long as it has caffeine in it. Just give him the caffeine molecules themselves, in fact, maybe in a fine mist. ...no. ANYWAY. "Unless Bismarck took a giant leap overnight regarding its nightlife, I'm going to hazard 'all of it.'" Unless school is canceled. :D
Richard forages around the bar for a snack while he's up. Caramel popcorn?
Bruce eyes this.
Noel ....sits, really belatedly, divesting himself of a massive park to reveal ....DUN DUN DUN ....the worst tie known to man, plus also a button-up short sleeved shirt. God, it's exciting. His tie has reindeer on it.
The Brucolac continues observing Noel, bemused. "Then let me be the first to congratulate your ability to remain calm in the face of the unusual. You have left your world and come to a pan-dimensional Nexus."
Richard: Chewing blissfully, Dick raises an eyebrow. Does Bruce require popcorn? Popcorn and tea?
Nuala is passing Bruce his teacup this very moment, in fact. He could have both.
Bruce: No of course not that would be silly. "Thank you, Princess."
Noel: Parka. Park. What. Noel's typist is asleep. "Does it ruin the effect if I cop to it being 'shock' and not calm?"
Richard: Well, then, Dick shall continue eating, all by himself. Unless someone asks for some, of course. The coffee brews! As it does.
The Brucolac: "Not at all, as you are quite lucid and thus not in shock. Denial is a possibility, however."
Nuala: "You're welcome." Nuala takes her own tea and goes to sit down - by the Brucolac, who is going to get a lapful of it if he is obnoxious about who she does or does not smell like she's been around. (This is actually unlikely.)
Bruce sits down and takes his box of potential horror with him.
The Brucolac already smelled HER on HIM, so she's busted anyway. He's not in so much of a snit that he's going to grill her in front of children eating popcorn. Besides, look at this Noel fellow! He is delightful, and might explode at any moment.
Richard would totally be upset about Auntie and Uncle fighting.
Noel: "I stopped doing all the really good drugs in college, so at this point I trust my eyes." That's what happens to teachers, they have to stop doing the really good drugs. :( He puts his hands lengthwise over his mouth, like he is going to WILL THINGS into making sense, which ...in fairness actually works for mages. Usually.
The Brucolac would prefer to not be willed into something he is not. And unfortunately he is not something that makes a lot of sense, when you come down to it.
Bruce is just a harmless accountant. He makes perfect sense. All the time.
Noel will, presumably, not turn anyone into petunias with his mindmeats. Because of the AVF.
Nuala is a fairy princess drinking tea. Your mileage may vary, but she is /so friendly/, Noel, and mildly concerned for the safety of your mental health. (And she would make a lovely petunia.)
Nuala: "Your eyes are quite trustworthy, so far as I can tell."
Richard: The coffee is ready, because ughhh waiting. Dick gets out some mugs, then pauses. "You want anything extra in here?" ... look, he's a bartender. Clearly he has to ask.
Noel: "Espresso? --no, thanks, I appreciate it." EXCESS OF THANKINGFUL....NESS...ism. He looks at Nuala a little sideways, like 'glowing woman ...i've actually seen this before ...well okay (oh god), etc' "I hope so, I need them for work. Here, let's check--is my tie still ugly?" Look, this is just confirming his reality is reasonably the same as everyone else's.
Nuala only her hands are glowing, in fairness! ...there's an explanation for this that she feels is not even that interesting, but she took off her gloves earlier and she hasn't put them back on yet.
Noel strikes glowing from the record.
Nuala used her fingers as a nightlight :3 it was great :3
Richard brings Noel his mug, then. Then he sits nearish to Bruce, but not too close. This has to do with the box and not Bruce-related skittishness.
Bruce: "...So how are you."
The Brucolac: "It appears to have elk on it, so yes."
Nuala looks at the tie, pauses, and then says: "-is there a reason for it?"
The Brucolac is being honest in the name of being helpful, Nuala, do not even THINK of giving him a look.
Richard: "Me?" Well, he'll tell Bruce regardless. "Okay. Better." He smiles into his coffee, then affirms to Noel, "Yes, it's hideous."
Bruce is too polite to agree, but, yeah dude.
Bruce: Polite or ... really anti-social, pick.
Richard: "And you?" To Bruce.
Noel: "I'd say it's for the holiday, but really it's because I work with thirteen year olds and they think it's funny. Or at least that's how I choose to interpret their eyerolling." He looks pleased, at least some things are normal. And really, this isn't all bad! It's novel! Like his tie.
Bruce: "Fine..." except for the mystery deliveries. "Do you think the AVF would do anything about explosions?" Uh.
Nuala refuses to be classified with plaid and reindeer, for the record. "I think I would, too-" Explosions, what.
Noel also presumably coffees, and gratefuls some more at Dick for his trouble.
Richard beams at Noel, apparently untroubled by mention of explosions.
The Brucolac: "Pardon me. Are there going to be explosions that the AVF will need to do something about?" We are putting ties on hold in favor of things that might blow up near Uther this bar, which he likes being in.
Noel 's typist makes up verbs all over the place, no one can stop me. Something crosses his face, there, with the mention of explosions, but it could be anything, even indigestion!
Bruce: "...I told you I'm not sure what's in the box." Apparently he considers this a fine explanation.
Bruce adds after a moment: "I'm not going to open it here."
Richard peers curiously at the box over his coffee and doesn't comment. He knows what his Batman would do, but... that's not really applicable.
The Brucolac: "Then may I suggest," the vampire says in his calmest voice, "that you leave it outside?"
Bruce: "Well, I dropped it earlier and it didn't explode or anything." The only person in here that will notice he's trolling now is Richard.
Nuala cocks her head at Noel, disconcerted; her attention shifts from the Brucolac's concerns to him, and stays there, albeit ... quietly.
Bruce would totally scan it but it was delivered in the Nexus and he's not... taking it home until he knows what the hell it is.
The Brucolac: "Is that an argument against removing it from the vicinity of Lady Nuala and the rest of us?"
Richard: Man, where's Clark and his x-ray vision when you need him... Dick keeps his expression peaceable.
Bruce shrugs and stands up. "Thanks for the tea."
Nuala breaks off her examination of Noel, having...missed all of that, "Are you going?"
Bruce: "Mm." He nods at her and glances at Richard and takes off.
Noel glances back at Nuala a second before tucking his head into his coffee. It's ~*amazing coffee*~, because Nexus. He is mostly just spending quality time breathing normally at this point, and misses all of that in turn. So basically everyone will have to conference to even get a normal reading of events.
The Brucolac is willing to be a jerk to protect people he cares about. This is perhaps not a new tactic to Bruce.
Richard returns the glance but doesn't follow, though he wants to, that much is probably obvious despite the fact he tries to conceal it.
The Brucolac looks over at Nuala and places his hand on hers for a moment.
Nuala: "What was that...?" Nuala doesn't mind having her hand touched, but she's puzzled and a little lost with the turn of events.
The Brucolac: "Potential explosives, even with the AVF, do not belong in bars."
Nuala pauses, and the minute shift in expression is not precisely dismissive or a dismissal, just - not sure yet. Go on, though.
Nuala: "I see."
The Brucolac gets up and goes behind the bar himself, on the pretense of warming water for some purpose that probably involves blood later. "All the same, I am not in the habit of strongarming people out of the room." Which is...mostly true. "And for that I am sorry." This is mostly for Dick.
Noel looks, faintly, more like an actually trapped person in an interdimensional Nexus should look--or at least uncomfortable. "I don't--it wasn't. I don't think." He actually knows it wasn't, because there may be nothing exciting about his nose, but ...that he can scan for. ~*Forces*~ hooray.
Richard: There's like a count of five before Dick decides fuck it. He puts his cup down and stands, flashing everyone his best 'oh look at me so winsomely sheepish' look, which is also earnestly understanding for the Brucolac because Dick's like that. "I better get going."
Richard heads out after Bruce, one knee cracking loudly as he does so.
Bruce is actually lingering outside, giving Richard a similar five count.
Richard doesn't quite BURST out the doors but there's a certain oomph to the way he exits, and he relaxes upon seeing Bruce.
Bruce does not laugh. Or even smile. Really. There is no effort to stop that. (Ffff.) "I figured I should have stopped somewhere else first, but I get ported in there nearly every time." Cough.
Richard: "Me too," Dick says, grinning stupid for a moment before he gets control of himself. It's a little easier to breathe around this Bruce, even though he knows he has to be careful in other ways. "Any idea who sent it?"
Bruce: "I'm pretty sure I know who sent it, hence the concern." And yet he doesn't sound concerned, just kind of ... bemused. As bemused as he gets, anyway.
Richard: There are only so many people that garner that kind of reaction, but things aren't the same, so Dick tries not to guess too hard. "Anybody you feel like sharing?"
Bruce shrugs. Apparently not. He knows that hanging around Ducard is a stupid as hell idea, and doesn't ... really want to know what Dick knows about him, recklessly. "You been to the labs here?"
Richard: "No." Dick has nothing useful to say about Ducard and nothing he /would/ tell Bruce about the al Ghuls, not lately. God, not lately. "Sorry."
Bruce tilts his head like why are you sorry? "Well..." he gestures over his shoulder, because he's awkward. "That's where I'm headed, if you..." .... Because he totally followed you out here not to tag along, right.
Richard: "Of course." And he smiles ruefully at the unspoken question. "Thought you were going to ask me about them. I should've known you'd be prepared." The hint of exasperation is teasing, but he knows they're skirting uncomfortable places about how well Dick knows Bruce.
Bruce gives him a look that is suddenly very - intense - and he's wondering just how much Tim told him about searching for him, if he's okay, if -- well, that look changes and he flicks his gaze away, half-apologetic, because it's not his place. "Yeah, I've been there before." Walking now? Yes.
Richard falls in step with him, hands in pockets though he's no longer cold. He thinks about bumping shoulders, smiles at the improbability, and says, "Is it easier now? To make use of this place?"
Bruce: "It's--" whatever his first reaction was, he doesn't voice it. "...I know it's here." And ignoring something efficient drives him insane.
Richard 's soft 'hm' of amusement is almost lost in his scarf. "I kind of feel I should be using it more, myself. But I guess." He falls silent for a moment. "Well. I -- need to re-evaluate my policies on how to use it."
Bruce does not agree but the 'yeah I know' kind of hangs there in the air. "Your brother's a hell of a manhunter." ... This is related.
Richard: Looking down, his half proud, half remorseful smile is hidden but audible. "He's amazing. And a lot smarter than I am. And he puts up with me. Thanks," he says suddenly, daring a look at Bruce. "I know it would be easier to walk away from this kind of stuff."
Bruce makes some kind of wordless 'it's nothing, it's fine' noise that is ... a complete lie, but he is studiously not looking at Dick while he makes it, instead fussing with his PINpoint to get the lock command on the room in the lab he used earlier to come up. It is, all things considered, kind of like acknowledgment that he enjoys the younger man's company. If you squint.
Richard: The familiarity of deflective non-response is perversely comforting, and Dick is content to let silence lapse as Bruce opens up the room.
Bruce: The lab room is tidy, but it's clear he's been up to some significant scheming in here before; whatever he was working on involved some tech that looks like he kifed it from somewhere else in the Nexus. There's also a tupperware container of cookies. ... He did not make them.
Richard would normally feel free to poke around at will, but he exercises some restraint and smiles at the cookies. It's probably safe to say Lo's baking aesthetic differs from Alfred's... assuming they're Lo's, of course.
Bruce: They are totally Lo's, and thus liable to put the average man into a diabetic coma. Bruce sets the box down on the work table and leans over a terminal to call up a program. "Recovering well?" There's probably a lot of less blunt ways he could have brought that up, but, no.
Richard takes up station nearby and rubs the back of his head. "Yeah. It could've been a lot worse." And he's had worse, too, but he's not going to say that. Instead he examines some of the technology lying around. Bruce will tell him if that's not okay, anyway.
Bruce glances at him but it's more passive curiosity than anything. One of the offline devices is clearly a gutted PINpoint with ... tubes? Okay. "Did anything come of it?"
Richard: "Not yet." He sounds casual, but there's definitely a stubborn undertone. "But it isn't over. So what're you doing about the box?" It's not really a subject change. Well, it IS, but only because he feels the topic's wearing through. Also, he almost said 'we' instead of 'you'.
Bruce: There may have been a brief eyebrow raise, there, but it's hard to say. "I'm going to particle scan it." Iiiif he can get the program to stop restarting the install windows. Goddamn Nexus Vista. He hit the escape button and went to re-enter a sequence into the dos mode. "This thing...." is crap, apparently, despite being advanced.
Richard makes another amused sound, leaning against the work table. "I assume you've got a set-up more to your liking, back home?"
Bruce: "My set-up at home wasn't created by a half-sentient fantasy land," he deadpans, and finally the program cooperates, as if on a whim. He sits down and slides the censor pads over to the box. It is so annoying to him that he can't just glare at things and make them work.
Richard folds his arms and coincidentally covers his smile with one hand as he watches -- not that he thinks Bruce cares, it's just the principle of the thing.
Bruce wonders for a brief, distant moment if he's too paranoid, that he should just open the stupid box - but no, that's ridiculous, this is completely rational. The scan finishes and he looks at the results, expression blank and then puzzled.
Richard would agree about the rationality. "Well?" He asks, because he's not shoulder-hovering like he sometimes does to his Bruce.
Bruce: "Asafoetida," he says, tapping the chemical display on the screen. "It's Persian, historically. It's a plant, used for medication." Of course he knows that this obscure ridiculous thing is.
Richard: "That's. Very thoughtful," Dick comments uselessly, sidling over to the box but not reaching for it or anything. "Any symbolic significance?"
Bruce has a look on his face that's a little exasperated, torn in between incredulous laughter and wanting to strangle someone. He does neither. (Obviously.) At least he know for sure who sent it. "...No. Well, yes. It's an old remedy." He's not going to tell Richard that he ended up texting Ra's al Ghul while tanked on Nyquil. Ever.
Richard observes this expression wryly but with great interest, because things that make Bruce have expressions, especially expressions like that, are rare. But if Bruce had wanted to tell him, he'd have told him. "Uh huh. Well. Alfred would probably approve..."
Bruce gives him a brief look that seems to ask 'do we know the same Alfred'? But he decides that's too weird to ponder and looks back at the box. "There's ways you're supposed to cook it, but I just stuck it in a blender with some other stuff." .... Oh god, Bruce, considering what that thing smells like packaged.
Richard: "Sounds like the infamous Bruce Wayne school of culinary arts, yeah." Surely, surely, Alfred is some kind of multiversal constant? Dick doesn't want to think about it either, but for different reasons than Bruce.
Bruce: "Oh, good, that's the same, then." Look, he can find bright spots, even if they are utterly sarcastic bright spots. (...Mild utter sarcasm, he has an image, here.)
Richard: An image Dick totally respects. Completely. The fact he continues on to say, ruthlessly, "Ever tried to make pancakes?" is but another facet of his respect.
Bruce: "I like my kitchen intact." That'd be a no. Or possibly a 'yes, but they never made it past the liquid stage'.
Richard: "Alfred didn't make those, did he?" He desists poking Bruce about his kitchen adventures to ask about the container of cookies, which he indicates with a nod of his head.
Bruce: "Mm. No, Lourdes." ... Er.
Richard blinks, then grins. "New girlfriend?" It's ... not funny, especially not with Bruce, but from the perspective of a once-Robin and a sometimes terrible person, it kind of is. Do socialites bake cookies? Maybe she had them baked. These are an awful lot of assumptions Dick's making, but it's more or less for the lulz.
Bruce winces immediately. Dick, why. "She's seventeen, and thinks Bruce Wayne is depressing and needs friends."
Richard: Because. That's why. "Well, she's not wrong." Everyone who comprises Bruce's circle of friends and family are just going to stand around telling Bruce things like this, casually eating his cookies-- no, no, Dick is not doing that. Just the former.
Bruce: "I am not depressing." Lord, he is young, isn't he? That was practically sulking. He nicks the cookie tin anyway, prying the lid off. Stop making eyes, Richard, just have one.
Richard bites his lip, and then cheerfully bites a cookie. "Okay, you're a ray of sunshine. As I'm sure you've been told many a time. But it's nice to have friends. The rest of us manage it okay." That is just faintly accusatory. Of course it's not easy and especially not for Bruce, but this is Dick trying to head off inclinations that are already set in place.
Bruce takes a cookie and leans back in his seat, giving him a look that is, predictably, guarded. He's quiet for a moment, then: "My girlfriend asked me if I was cheating on her because I'm gone all the time, and I have a reputation." Flat, a little forced, but the worst thing is he's not offering it up in defensiveness; there's something a little wounded about it, like he just honestly doesn't know how to solve that equation. How can he have friends? There's not a variable to plug in.
Richard: If Bruce's look is typically guarded, Dick's is typically searching. He wants to ask about Superman, but he has the feeling that Clark isn't a viable option. "I want to tell you that you're not alone. That's all I ever want to tell you." 'But you are.'
Bruce: "I didn't start this ignorant of what it would bring to me in that respect," he manages, forcing himself through this. If they were having this exchange at Stigmata, he'd have bolted already, but it feels cowardly to do it here.
Richard: He can see how difficult it is and he stays silent for a moment in an effort not to exacerbate the situation. "Can you understand where he was coming from? When he met me, when I became -- I'm not saying you should do the same. But look for it, Bruce. There's going to be someone."
Bruce shifts his position, uncomfortable but - dealing, trying to understand, because, if nothing else, he's driven to make sense of everything around him, even if only in his own way. "I can't make that kind of decision for someone else. Especially not a child."
Richard: "It doesn't have to be like that. Nor does it have to be your decision." Dick is almost painfully earnest about this, though if he has his way there are lots of things he'll never mention. "It could be someone who rises up independently. Or someone inspired by you."
Bruce: Inspired by him. His gaze flinches away. There's only one kind of person that he's inspired to that degree. "How are you like this?" His voice is hushed. "No one like me could have raised you."
Richard winces minutely when Bruce looks away. Typical, that he couldn't get through what was meant to be rousing speech without making some kind of mistake. But at least he can answer this one. "You're wrong," he says firmly. "Okay, and there was Alfred. But you were -- are -- what I emulate."
Bruce: "Alfred would kill me," a short, breathless kind of laugh that had no humor in it. "You're.." He shakes his head. "Maybe my world isn't like yours."
Richard: "Maybe it isn't," he says with a small smile. "I'm not worried." He is, but not in the same way. "There'll be someone, it doesn't matter who it is."
Bruce: "...." He exhales, and it's not quite a sigh, but there's something bemused about it. "You're... an alien, aren't you." You are just too nice, Dick.
Richard grins knowingly. "If it helps, the people skills? Not you. All me."
Bruce gives him the closest thing to an eyeroll he's capable of without betraying legitimate human emotion and sits forward again, switching the computer off. "I'm going to get lunch." Not exactly definitive; company is welcome. He's being good about not running off.
Richard: "Can't shake me now." Dick says mock-ominously, snagging another cookie and straightening off the work table, prepared to follow Bruce.
Bruce makes another one of those monosyllabic noises that means nothing and everything and sticks the lid back on the cookies. (Get your own sparkly pink stalker.) And off they go; he'll bring his 'gift' home later.
Ever.
Bruce enters, tugging at the collar of his jacket to straighten it. He's carrying a box, and if anyone has super-senses, they will probably notice the box before him.
The Brucolac has such senses! What does he notice?
The Brucolac 's tongue starts flickering at the box. His expression becomes a bit XI for a moment, but then he gets over it. "Godspit, what have you got in that thing?"
Bruce: "...I actually have no idea."
Nuala arrives about now, with her (glowing, why) hands hidden in her sleeves and- "What on earth?" ...she can smell it, her face is amazing.
Bruce looks faintly apologetic. "So I guess it's not a bomb."
Nuala: "It has a stench."
Bruce: "...Yeah."
Richard trails in, muffled in a peacoat and a scarf, looking cold and vaguely sheepish, the latter of which does not diminish upon seeing Bruce. He doesn't say hi due to the ongoing conversation.
Bruce looks over at him like-- oh there you are ... though that's pretty mild, too.
The Brucolac stands at once. {"Shazhadi."} ONE DAY, Nuala, you will get to hang out with BB when he is in a good mood.
Nuala: {"Hello, dear."} Nuala is mannerly, and will keep her language switch only to greetings before she goes to find her tea.
The Brucolac: "You, my dear, gather dangerous friends faster than anyone I know. Including myself, and it is offensive to my dignity." He is so very glad to see you.
Bruce feels like there's something he's missing now and... he probably is, because these people are from Planet DnD. But he nods at the princess.
Nuala: "I don't know what you're talking about, dear. Did you meet Lestat?" So she does know what he's talking about. Would 'Tom' like something nonalcoholic while she's fetching them?
Richard shrugs a little, settling into a chair with his hands in his coat pockets, and aims a mock-pathetic look at Bruce, as in 'hugs? No? Okay.'
Bruce gives Richard a 'don't dare me to embarrass you when I'm fully capable' look - that is totally possible for a look, listen - and then moves to set his Mystery Box aside and help Nuala get teacups.
Richard sniffs meekly. :3
The Brucolac: "Yes indeed." She may have a lingering sense of Lestat from this very bar, in fact, since they were in it not long ago.
Nuala: "He's very nice. -would you like this or this?" Teas. To Tom.
Noel ...exists, dressed for Serious Fucking Winter, because he's from North Dakota. Blah blah NOT HIS CLASSROOM blah never look surprised by anything, the seventh graders can smell fear. "....well, that was unintentional."
The Brucolac watches Bruce idly, and despite the gossip-fest, is still curious about whatever the hell is in that box.
Nuala is utterly refusing to gossip, or look even a little bit embarrassed.
Bruce: "Sure." A beat. "I hope you're well." ... Well, she's a princess, he has manners.
The Brucolac: "He's exceedingly earnest, and completely unashamed, which is not quite the same." There is no disapproval in his raspy voice, just a desire for a more accurate description than 'nice'.
Bruce looks up at Noel with something resembling a wordless hello.
Nuala: "I am, yes, and are- hello, are you all right?" Nuala is nice, which means she interrupts herself when Noel registers.
The Brucolac gives up on the conversation for the moment, because there are other people in the room to be polite to. And wow, this person tastes interesting.
Richard empathizes with your outerwear, Noel. He gives him a little smile.
Noel: "I'm--yes, thank you, I'm okay." He sounds sort of faint, but it is mostly in a ~*wondering*~ way, not like 'oh GOD fleeing,' ...maybe mostly because 'God' would be inappropriate, but never mind. "If that's tea, does coffee follow somewhere?" Assuming logic exists wherever here is. PS he smells like a whole lot of Really Old Nonsense mingling somewhat uncomfortably with ...New Nonsense.
Nuala: "I think so, but I don't know where it is..." She takes a step back where she's standing to have a look, helpfully.
Noel: Or ...tastes, please don't actually taste him.
Bruce points at the coffee maker.
Richard halts with his tongue extended -- no. No he does not.
Nuala has this 'is THAT what that is' expression on her face, just ... ignore it.
The Brucolac ...is, but that is because he's got the vermonasal apparatus to go with the tongue, and thus can't really...help it. Look, at least he is being creepy quietly, over here, by himself.
Bruce: "It's the only thing in here I know how to use." .... The seriousness in which he says this should actually be kind of sad, but.
Richard looks innocently astonished, Bruce. But to Noel, he says, "Sit down, I'll make a pot."
Bruce sees how it is.
The Brucolac: "Unintentional in the sense that you have never been here before, sir?"
Noel: As long as there's no active licking, they're fine! Noel shoots Mr. Tongue there a glance, like '....huh,' (I'VE SEEN YOU IN BOOKS ...also Bismarck is full of vampires lately for some reason :() and sort of stops mid-everything to Grateful at his new fellow in Overdressed. Capital letters. "Thank you, I think I won't try to operate anything with boiling water just at this moment."
Noel: "Noel," he returns faintly, because 'sir' is for people who are around five feet tall. "I think I've been detoured, yes."
Bruce: "It happens."
The Brucolac: "I see. This particular bar, or the nexus itself, Noel?" Apparently he is in charge of sorting people out. It's a living.
Richard chuckles as he goes to do coffee pot related things. Possibly he would even grind the beans RIGHT THERE AND THEN but that tends to halt conversation, so, instant it is.
Bruce is having tea because a freaking elf princess is making it. Otherwise he'd probably end up with coffee.
Nuala makes wonderful tea. (And when an elf princess makes it for you, you drink the damn tea.)
Noel doesn't care as long as it has caffeine in it. Just give him the caffeine molecules themselves, in fact, maybe in a fine mist. ...no. ANYWAY. "Unless Bismarck took a giant leap overnight regarding its nightlife, I'm going to hazard 'all of it.'" Unless school is canceled. :D
Richard forages around the bar for a snack while he's up. Caramel popcorn?
Bruce eyes this.
Noel ....sits, really belatedly, divesting himself of a massive park to reveal ....DUN DUN DUN ....the worst tie known to man, plus also a button-up short sleeved shirt. God, it's exciting. His tie has reindeer on it.
The Brucolac continues observing Noel, bemused. "Then let me be the first to congratulate your ability to remain calm in the face of the unusual. You have left your world and come to a pan-dimensional Nexus."
Richard: Chewing blissfully, Dick raises an eyebrow. Does Bruce require popcorn? Popcorn and tea?
Nuala is passing Bruce his teacup this very moment, in fact. He could have both.
Bruce: No of course not that would be silly. "Thank you, Princess."
Noel: Parka. Park. What. Noel's typist is asleep. "Does it ruin the effect if I cop to it being 'shock' and not calm?"
Richard: Well, then, Dick shall continue eating, all by himself. Unless someone asks for some, of course. The coffee brews! As it does.
The Brucolac: "Not at all, as you are quite lucid and thus not in shock. Denial is a possibility, however."
Nuala: "You're welcome." Nuala takes her own tea and goes to sit down - by the Brucolac, who is going to get a lapful of it if he is obnoxious about who she does or does not smell like she's been around. (This is actually unlikely.)
Bruce sits down and takes his box of potential horror with him.
The Brucolac already smelled HER on HIM, so she's busted anyway. He's not in so much of a snit that he's going to grill her in front of children eating popcorn. Besides, look at this Noel fellow! He is delightful, and might explode at any moment.
Richard would totally be upset about Auntie and Uncle fighting.
Noel: "I stopped doing all the really good drugs in college, so at this point I trust my eyes." That's what happens to teachers, they have to stop doing the really good drugs. :( He puts his hands lengthwise over his mouth, like he is going to WILL THINGS into making sense, which ...in fairness actually works for mages. Usually.
The Brucolac would prefer to not be willed into something he is not. And unfortunately he is not something that makes a lot of sense, when you come down to it.
Bruce is just a harmless accountant. He makes perfect sense. All the time.
Noel will, presumably, not turn anyone into petunias with his mindmeats. Because of the AVF.
Nuala is a fairy princess drinking tea. Your mileage may vary, but she is /so friendly/, Noel, and mildly concerned for the safety of your mental health. (And she would make a lovely petunia.)
Nuala: "Your eyes are quite trustworthy, so far as I can tell."
Richard: The coffee is ready, because ughhh waiting. Dick gets out some mugs, then pauses. "You want anything extra in here?" ... look, he's a bartender. Clearly he has to ask.
Noel: "Espresso? --no, thanks, I appreciate it." EXCESS OF THANKINGFUL....NESS...ism. He looks at Nuala a little sideways, like 'glowing woman ...i've actually seen this before ...well okay (oh god), etc' "I hope so, I need them for work. Here, let's check--is my tie still ugly?" Look, this is just confirming his reality is reasonably the same as everyone else's.
Nuala only her hands are glowing, in fairness! ...there's an explanation for this that she feels is not even that interesting, but she took off her gloves earlier and she hasn't put them back on yet.
Noel strikes glowing from the record.
Nuala used her fingers as a nightlight :3 it was great :3
Richard brings Noel his mug, then. Then he sits nearish to Bruce, but not too close. This has to do with the box and not Bruce-related skittishness.
Bruce: "...So how are you."
The Brucolac: "It appears to have elk on it, so yes."
Nuala looks at the tie, pauses, and then says: "-is there a reason for it?"
The Brucolac is being honest in the name of being helpful, Nuala, do not even THINK of giving him a look.
Richard: "Me?" Well, he'll tell Bruce regardless. "Okay. Better." He smiles into his coffee, then affirms to Noel, "Yes, it's hideous."
Bruce is too polite to agree, but, yeah dude.
Bruce: Polite or ... really anti-social, pick.
Richard: "And you?" To Bruce.
Noel: "I'd say it's for the holiday, but really it's because I work with thirteen year olds and they think it's funny. Or at least that's how I choose to interpret their eyerolling." He looks pleased, at least some things are normal. And really, this isn't all bad! It's novel! Like his tie.
Bruce: "Fine..." except for the mystery deliveries. "Do you think the AVF would do anything about explosions?" Uh.
Nuala refuses to be classified with plaid and reindeer, for the record. "I think I would, too-" Explosions, what.
Noel also presumably coffees, and gratefuls some more at Dick for his trouble.
Richard beams at Noel, apparently untroubled by mention of explosions.
The Brucolac: "Pardon me. Are there going to be explosions that the AVF will need to do something about?" We are putting ties on hold in favor of things that might blow up near Uther this bar, which he likes being in.
Noel 's typist makes up verbs all over the place, no one can stop me. Something crosses his face, there, with the mention of explosions, but it could be anything, even indigestion!
Bruce: "...I told you I'm not sure what's in the box." Apparently he considers this a fine explanation.
Bruce adds after a moment: "I'm not going to open it here."
Richard peers curiously at the box over his coffee and doesn't comment. He knows what his Batman would do, but... that's not really applicable.
The Brucolac: "Then may I suggest," the vampire says in his calmest voice, "that you leave it outside?"
Bruce: "Well, I dropped it earlier and it didn't explode or anything." The only person in here that will notice he's trolling now is Richard.
Nuala cocks her head at Noel, disconcerted; her attention shifts from the Brucolac's concerns to him, and stays there, albeit ... quietly.
Bruce would totally scan it but it was delivered in the Nexus and he's not... taking it home until he knows what the hell it is.
The Brucolac: "Is that an argument against removing it from the vicinity of Lady Nuala and the rest of us?"
Richard: Man, where's Clark and his x-ray vision when you need him... Dick keeps his expression peaceable.
Bruce shrugs and stands up. "Thanks for the tea."
Nuala breaks off her examination of Noel, having...missed all of that, "Are you going?"
Bruce: "Mm." He nods at her and glances at Richard and takes off.
Noel glances back at Nuala a second before tucking his head into his coffee. It's ~*amazing coffee*~, because Nexus. He is mostly just spending quality time breathing normally at this point, and misses all of that in turn. So basically everyone will have to conference to even get a normal reading of events.
The Brucolac is willing to be a jerk to protect people he cares about. This is perhaps not a new tactic to Bruce.
Richard returns the glance but doesn't follow, though he wants to, that much is probably obvious despite the fact he tries to conceal it.
The Brucolac looks over at Nuala and places his hand on hers for a moment.
Nuala: "What was that...?" Nuala doesn't mind having her hand touched, but she's puzzled and a little lost with the turn of events.
The Brucolac: "Potential explosives, even with the AVF, do not belong in bars."
Nuala pauses, and the minute shift in expression is not precisely dismissive or a dismissal, just - not sure yet. Go on, though.
Nuala: "I see."
The Brucolac gets up and goes behind the bar himself, on the pretense of warming water for some purpose that probably involves blood later. "All the same, I am not in the habit of strongarming people out of the room." Which is...mostly true. "And for that I am sorry." This is mostly for Dick.
Noel looks, faintly, more like an actually trapped person in an interdimensional Nexus should look--or at least uncomfortable. "I don't--it wasn't. I don't think." He actually knows it wasn't, because there may be nothing exciting about his nose, but ...that he can scan for. ~*Forces*~ hooray.
Richard: There's like a count of five before Dick decides fuck it. He puts his cup down and stands, flashing everyone his best 'oh look at me so winsomely sheepish' look, which is also earnestly understanding for the Brucolac because Dick's like that. "I better get going."
Richard heads out after Bruce, one knee cracking loudly as he does so.
Bruce is actually lingering outside, giving Richard a similar five count.
Richard doesn't quite BURST out the doors but there's a certain oomph to the way he exits, and he relaxes upon seeing Bruce.
Bruce does not laugh. Or even smile. Really. There is no effort to stop that. (Ffff.) "I figured I should have stopped somewhere else first, but I get ported in there nearly every time." Cough.
Richard: "Me too," Dick says, grinning stupid for a moment before he gets control of himself. It's a little easier to breathe around this Bruce, even though he knows he has to be careful in other ways. "Any idea who sent it?"
Bruce: "I'm pretty sure I know who sent it, hence the concern." And yet he doesn't sound concerned, just kind of ... bemused. As bemused as he gets, anyway.
Richard: There are only so many people that garner that kind of reaction, but things aren't the same, so Dick tries not to guess too hard. "Anybody you feel like sharing?"
Bruce shrugs. Apparently not. He knows that hanging around Ducard is a stupid as hell idea, and doesn't ... really want to know what Dick knows about him, recklessly. "You been to the labs here?"
Richard: "No." Dick has nothing useful to say about Ducard and nothing he /would/ tell Bruce about the al Ghuls, not lately. God, not lately. "Sorry."
Bruce tilts his head like why are you sorry? "Well..." he gestures over his shoulder, because he's awkward. "That's where I'm headed, if you..." .... Because he totally followed you out here not to tag along, right.
Richard: "Of course." And he smiles ruefully at the unspoken question. "Thought you were going to ask me about them. I should've known you'd be prepared." The hint of exasperation is teasing, but he knows they're skirting uncomfortable places about how well Dick knows Bruce.
Bruce gives him a look that is suddenly very - intense - and he's wondering just how much Tim told him about searching for him, if he's okay, if -- well, that look changes and he flicks his gaze away, half-apologetic, because it's not his place. "Yeah, I've been there before." Walking now? Yes.
Richard falls in step with him, hands in pockets though he's no longer cold. He thinks about bumping shoulders, smiles at the improbability, and says, "Is it easier now? To make use of this place?"
Bruce: "It's--" whatever his first reaction was, he doesn't voice it. "...I know it's here." And ignoring something efficient drives him insane.
Richard 's soft 'hm' of amusement is almost lost in his scarf. "I kind of feel I should be using it more, myself. But I guess." He falls silent for a moment. "Well. I -- need to re-evaluate my policies on how to use it."
Bruce does not agree but the 'yeah I know' kind of hangs there in the air. "Your brother's a hell of a manhunter." ... This is related.
Richard: Looking down, his half proud, half remorseful smile is hidden but audible. "He's amazing. And a lot smarter than I am. And he puts up with me. Thanks," he says suddenly, daring a look at Bruce. "I know it would be easier to walk away from this kind of stuff."
Bruce makes some kind of wordless 'it's nothing, it's fine' noise that is ... a complete lie, but he is studiously not looking at Dick while he makes it, instead fussing with his PINpoint to get the lock command on the room in the lab he used earlier to come up. It is, all things considered, kind of like acknowledgment that he enjoys the younger man's company. If you squint.
Richard: The familiarity of deflective non-response is perversely comforting, and Dick is content to let silence lapse as Bruce opens up the room.
Bruce: The lab room is tidy, but it's clear he's been up to some significant scheming in here before; whatever he was working on involved some tech that looks like he kifed it from somewhere else in the Nexus. There's also a tupperware container of cookies. ... He did not make them.
Richard would normally feel free to poke around at will, but he exercises some restraint and smiles at the cookies. It's probably safe to say Lo's baking aesthetic differs from Alfred's... assuming they're Lo's, of course.
Bruce: They are totally Lo's, and thus liable to put the average man into a diabetic coma. Bruce sets the box down on the work table and leans over a terminal to call up a program. "Recovering well?" There's probably a lot of less blunt ways he could have brought that up, but, no.
Richard takes up station nearby and rubs the back of his head. "Yeah. It could've been a lot worse." And he's had worse, too, but he's not going to say that. Instead he examines some of the technology lying around. Bruce will tell him if that's not okay, anyway.
Bruce glances at him but it's more passive curiosity than anything. One of the offline devices is clearly a gutted PINpoint with ... tubes? Okay. "Did anything come of it?"
Richard: "Not yet." He sounds casual, but there's definitely a stubborn undertone. "But it isn't over. So what're you doing about the box?" It's not really a subject change. Well, it IS, but only because he feels the topic's wearing through. Also, he almost said 'we' instead of 'you'.
Bruce: There may have been a brief eyebrow raise, there, but it's hard to say. "I'm going to particle scan it." Iiiif he can get the program to stop restarting the install windows. Goddamn Nexus Vista. He hit the escape button and went to re-enter a sequence into the dos mode. "This thing...." is crap, apparently, despite being advanced.
Richard makes another amused sound, leaning against the work table. "I assume you've got a set-up more to your liking, back home?"
Bruce: "My set-up at home wasn't created by a half-sentient fantasy land," he deadpans, and finally the program cooperates, as if on a whim. He sits down and slides the censor pads over to the box. It is so annoying to him that he can't just glare at things and make them work.
Richard folds his arms and coincidentally covers his smile with one hand as he watches -- not that he thinks Bruce cares, it's just the principle of the thing.
Bruce wonders for a brief, distant moment if he's too paranoid, that he should just open the stupid box - but no, that's ridiculous, this is completely rational. The scan finishes and he looks at the results, expression blank and then puzzled.
Richard would agree about the rationality. "Well?" He asks, because he's not shoulder-hovering like he sometimes does to his Bruce.
Bruce: "Asafoetida," he says, tapping the chemical display on the screen. "It's Persian, historically. It's a plant, used for medication." Of course he knows that this obscure ridiculous thing is.
Richard: "That's. Very thoughtful," Dick comments uselessly, sidling over to the box but not reaching for it or anything. "Any symbolic significance?"
Bruce has a look on his face that's a little exasperated, torn in between incredulous laughter and wanting to strangle someone. He does neither. (Obviously.) At least he know for sure who sent it. "...No. Well, yes. It's an old remedy." He's not going to tell Richard that he ended up texting Ra's al Ghul while tanked on Nyquil. Ever.
Richard observes this expression wryly but with great interest, because things that make Bruce have expressions, especially expressions like that, are rare. But if Bruce had wanted to tell him, he'd have told him. "Uh huh. Well. Alfred would probably approve..."
Bruce gives him a brief look that seems to ask 'do we know the same Alfred'? But he decides that's too weird to ponder and looks back at the box. "There's ways you're supposed to cook it, but I just stuck it in a blender with some other stuff." .... Oh god, Bruce, considering what that thing smells like packaged.
Richard: "Sounds like the infamous Bruce Wayne school of culinary arts, yeah." Surely, surely, Alfred is some kind of multiversal constant? Dick doesn't want to think about it either, but for different reasons than Bruce.
Bruce: "Oh, good, that's the same, then." Look, he can find bright spots, even if they are utterly sarcastic bright spots. (...Mild utter sarcasm, he has an image, here.)
Richard: An image Dick totally respects. Completely. The fact he continues on to say, ruthlessly, "Ever tried to make pancakes?" is but another facet of his respect.
Bruce: "I like my kitchen intact." That'd be a no. Or possibly a 'yes, but they never made it past the liquid stage'.
Richard: "Alfred didn't make those, did he?" He desists poking Bruce about his kitchen adventures to ask about the container of cookies, which he indicates with a nod of his head.
Bruce: "Mm. No, Lourdes." ... Er.
Richard blinks, then grins. "New girlfriend?" It's ... not funny, especially not with Bruce, but from the perspective of a once-Robin and a sometimes terrible person, it kind of is. Do socialites bake cookies? Maybe she had them baked. These are an awful lot of assumptions Dick's making, but it's more or less for the lulz.
Bruce winces immediately. Dick, why. "She's seventeen, and thinks Bruce Wayne is depressing and needs friends."
Richard: Because. That's why. "Well, she's not wrong." Everyone who comprises Bruce's circle of friends and family are just going to stand around telling Bruce things like this, casually eating his cookies-- no, no, Dick is not doing that. Just the former.
Bruce: "I am not depressing." Lord, he is young, isn't he? That was practically sulking. He nicks the cookie tin anyway, prying the lid off. Stop making eyes, Richard, just have one.
Richard bites his lip, and then cheerfully bites a cookie. "Okay, you're a ray of sunshine. As I'm sure you've been told many a time. But it's nice to have friends. The rest of us manage it okay." That is just faintly accusatory. Of course it's not easy and especially not for Bruce, but this is Dick trying to head off inclinations that are already set in place.
Bruce takes a cookie and leans back in his seat, giving him a look that is, predictably, guarded. He's quiet for a moment, then: "My girlfriend asked me if I was cheating on her because I'm gone all the time, and I have a reputation." Flat, a little forced, but the worst thing is he's not offering it up in defensiveness; there's something a little wounded about it, like he just honestly doesn't know how to solve that equation. How can he have friends? There's not a variable to plug in.
Richard: If Bruce's look is typically guarded, Dick's is typically searching. He wants to ask about Superman, but he has the feeling that Clark isn't a viable option. "I want to tell you that you're not alone. That's all I ever want to tell you." 'But you are.'
Bruce: "I didn't start this ignorant of what it would bring to me in that respect," he manages, forcing himself through this. If they were having this exchange at Stigmata, he'd have bolted already, but it feels cowardly to do it here.
Richard: He can see how difficult it is and he stays silent for a moment in an effort not to exacerbate the situation. "Can you understand where he was coming from? When he met me, when I became -- I'm not saying you should do the same. But look for it, Bruce. There's going to be someone."
Bruce shifts his position, uncomfortable but - dealing, trying to understand, because, if nothing else, he's driven to make sense of everything around him, even if only in his own way. "I can't make that kind of decision for someone else. Especially not a child."
Richard: "It doesn't have to be like that. Nor does it have to be your decision." Dick is almost painfully earnest about this, though if he has his way there are lots of things he'll never mention. "It could be someone who rises up independently. Or someone inspired by you."
Bruce: Inspired by him. His gaze flinches away. There's only one kind of person that he's inspired to that degree. "How are you like this?" His voice is hushed. "No one like me could have raised you."
Richard winces minutely when Bruce looks away. Typical, that he couldn't get through what was meant to be rousing speech without making some kind of mistake. But at least he can answer this one. "You're wrong," he says firmly. "Okay, and there was Alfred. But you were -- are -- what I emulate."
Bruce: "Alfred would kill me," a short, breathless kind of laugh that had no humor in it. "You're.." He shakes his head. "Maybe my world isn't like yours."
Richard: "Maybe it isn't," he says with a small smile. "I'm not worried." He is, but not in the same way. "There'll be someone, it doesn't matter who it is."
Bruce: "...." He exhales, and it's not quite a sigh, but there's something bemused about it. "You're... an alien, aren't you." You are just too nice, Dick.
Richard grins knowingly. "If it helps, the people skills? Not you. All me."
Bruce gives him the closest thing to an eyeroll he's capable of without betraying legitimate human emotion and sits forward again, switching the computer off. "I'm going to get lunch." Not exactly definitive; company is welcome. He's being good about not running off.
Richard: "Can't shake me now." Dick says mock-ominously, snagging another cookie and straightening off the work table, prepared to follow Bruce.
Bruce makes another one of those monosyllabic noises that means nothing and everything and sticks the lid back on the cookies. (Get your own sparkly pink stalker.) And off they go; he'll bring his 'gift' home later.