Down the rabbit hole and into Xanadu.
As a child Bruce had always imagined himself, re-imagined himself, as an adventurer. Solitary of disposition, these adventures, more often than not, were pursued alone. He’d disappear into the grounds that surrounded their home (he was young enough then just to call it home) or perhaps into the basement or the attic and he’d emerge hours later,
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This isn't the first time Bruce has been the vagrant, or played the vagrant (depending how you look at it), and he is generally accustomed to the fact that the status quo is to render people in this situation as conveniently invisible. The passer-by will speed up, footsteps adopting a quickness of rhythm not natural to their step, their eyes will direct straight ahead - or if the invisible person forces themselves to be visible, straight to the ground. These days, in Gotham anyway, props will come into play. People will pretend to be talking on their phone or be absorbed by some tweet on their Blackberry.
Occasionally a person will hand out some money, but rarely, and even then they barely stop to do this.
People don't stop. They just don't. That is not how it works.
But this one does and he looks at her, not in surprise, surprise is something that was wiped from his consciousness a while back, but he looks at her with a certain curiosity. Just because people don't surprise you shouldn't be they don't interest you.
And one thing Bruce has never lost is an interest in humanity. In people.
"Yes?"
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She notices that he's barefoot now. That's even worse. On one hand, walking on wet asphalt is probably uncomfortable, but she can't leave someone out here...especially not in a city like this with lax rules about vagrancy; there's got to be someplace better.
Her accent is difficult to specify: a little French, a little British, a lot upperclass American, like she's moved around a lot. Six is soft-spoken, which can make her a touch difficult to hear over the rain; one does generally have to listen closely to hear her, but she has a way of making herself heard when she wants to be.
"I don't think you should be out here. There's a hotel nearby with a lobby you could wait in instead, 'til the rain stops. It's warmer...and you run less of a risk of catching pneumonia."
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"I probably shouldn't be out here."
He agrees. And his voice is clearly American and clearly east coast money. Not the sort of voice you'd expect on a guy huddled in a doorway, in mismatched clothing and without any shoes.
"I don't think I should be here at all. But I'm trusting my subconscious to refrain from giving me pneumonia."
Unless, of course, his subconscious is not his subconscious at all. R'as has been known to meddle where he shouldn't. And then there is Crane. Or even Luthor with his increasingly dangerous (and increasingly absurd experiments).
Bruce frowns, it's an involuntary motion that he checks immediately (and berates himself for).
"I think I'm going to stay here."
He finally says. He refrains from adding - until I wake up from whatever state of unconsciousness I've found myself in.
"I am going to stay here." Better. What was with the uncertainty? "But thank you for your concern. You should get out of the rain, Miss."
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