Comments | sirenspull_logs: Is he a dot? Or is he a speck? When he's underwater, does he get wet?

mentis_reae in sirenspull_logs

Is he a dot? Or is he a speck? When he's underwater, does he get wet?

Jun 13, 2011 15:30

Who: Fatsworth mentis_reae and Fatman kingofrooks. Eatin' pastries.
When: Today. MONDAY THE THIRTEENTH. DUN DUN DUNNNNN.
Where: A coffee shop near police headquarters!
Summary: Two guys get together to talk. One of them has a single identity. One of them has a triple identity. This averages out to two identities per guy.
Warnings: Uh...Maybe language? Turbo-angst from ( Read more... )

miles edgeworth, bruce wayne | batman

Comments 35

THE LOG HEADER MADE ME LAUGH MYSELF OUT OF BED. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY kingofrooks June 14 2011, 03:07:20 UTC

Morning still came no matter what happened to him, the world turned even if he wished it would just stop for a moment for him to breathe. But it was a good thing, really- Bruce could just stop thinking about what happened, shoving Batman to the back of his mind ( ... )

mentis_reae June 14 2011, 04:07:30 UTC

Edgeworth shook his head, his expression caught between rueful and hopeful. "I doubt very much that you'll be missing her at all," he said. "Even if she does indeed leave her position - something which is far from a foregone conclusion as of yet - that does not mean she'll disappear from the public life." Edgeworth strained the water from his teabag and set it aside, then stirred the water to cool it enough to drink. "Perhaps she'll move into consulting, perhaps into another department...Regardless, she'll be a good contact to have even if she doesn't work in her current capacity."

He took a sip. Not a bad tea. A bit bitter, but a bit of bitterness wasn't always bad at this time in the afternoon. It roused one to wakefulness almost more effectively than the caffeine itself did.

"I think it inevitable you'll receive a contract for work with the police department at this point. I've been wrong before, of course, but you represented yourself very well."

kingofrooks June 14 2011, 04:29:39 UTC

"Even with the great shiner on my face?" the teasing and the banter still came easily to him, even though he had to hood his eyes to hide the hollowness in them. The smirk remained, though, even if the jokes weren't sincere. After all, he was playing Bruce Wayne, and Bruce Wayne had no reason to be- whatever he was now. It defied labels and descriptions except for 'pathetic', and he really should get over himself.

Bruce closed his eyes for a moment, and knocked his coffee back like it was a shot of alcohol. It wouldn't help, because he'd long ago stop himself from being affected by both depressants and stimulants. He preferred to rely on his own will.

"I hope so. The officers always meet really dangerous people and monsters out there." He shrugged slightly, then looked at Edgeworth.

"Have I thanked you yet?"

mentis_reae June 14 2011, 04:47:12 UTC

"Mr. Wayne, you're offering to serve the police department." Edgeworth raised a skeptical eyebrow over his tea. "You're offering to help fight crime. What madness would drive you to think that you would need to thank me?"

It was truly remarkable, though. Even with that bruise, even with the violence of the past few days - Wayne still seemed in remarkably high spirits. Optimism was something that came only with difficulty to Edgeworth, yet Bruce Wayne had seemed born into it. He was not stupid, nor naive, to be completely fair; he was just ceaselessly able to keep his spirits up.

"And honestly, Mr. Wayne, I believe the 'shiner' impressed the chief more than anything else. I suspect she saw it as a battle wound."

kingofrooks June 14 2011, 05:03:15 UTC

If Bruce knew what Edgeworth was thinking- if he had the presence of mind right now to guess instead of running in circles about his own thoughts and gradually spiralling further and further into the darkness- he would be both incredibly amused and gratified. It meant that it was working; that the mask had become an entire persona, an entire person whose moods was separated enough from his own- whoever 'he' was- that his moods didn't affect how Bruce Wayne should be feeling.

But he had no idea. So he just shook his head, laughing a little. "Of course I do. What I'm supposed to do is pretty important, and involves a lot of trust, you know?" He cocked his head to the side, and couldn't help the edge of his smile from being brittle, prone to shatter at any moment.

"If it's not for you, I don't think they would've trusted me with it."

He folded his hands. He was wearing gloves today. Short little black gloves- half for the cold, half because his knuckles were bruised and torn from what he did to the Joker last night.