One death gives reason for a second. The second lends glory to the third. Some say he was mortal. But some say he rose from hell. Our salvation, our hope, no one knew. With the 'death' of Gotham's white knight, Harvey Dent, the people of the city turn their anger and frustration on the dark knight. The Batman.
The joker has been captured and sentenced to life in Arkham Asylum - surpassing the death
penalty with a plea of insanity. Gotham is currently on the mends after the clown's rein of destruction. Things are beginning to get back to normal. The batman has been laying low, and Gotham's crime underworld is once again... stirring... smelling their freedom again. And their chance to re-emerge.
S C A R ( S )
[skahr] - noun, verb, scarred, scar⋅ring.
–noun 1. a mark left by a healed wound, sore, or burn. 2. a lasting aftereffect of trouble, esp. a lasting psychological injury resulting from suffering or trauma. 3. any blemish remaining as a trace of or resulting from injury or use.
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Starting Over (Grayson, Gordon) « Thread Started on Nov 1, 2009, 2:50pm »
[[ooc: This takes place AFTER the events of WOUNDED LIFE. Tag me if I've skipped something you'd like to play out, also if any details need adjusting.]]
It had been a few days since the Batman had dropped Dick Grayson off at Gordon's home just before dawn. Wayne had dealt with the circus that was Gotham's court system and the press to the extent that he had agreed to accept Grayson as his ward. The process had been sped up by a well timed donation to a local orphanage and Gordon's insistence that this move was the best and fastest way to protect Dick. It was odd to consider that through it all he had yet to actually speak with the boy as Bruce Wayne, beyond a moment of polite condolences in passing. He'd managed to offer the expected, I'm sorry for your loss before he'd been surrounded by reporters and been forced to do what he could to protect Grayson from the onslaught by moving the question and answer session outside to the court house steps.
It was something he had never considered, taking in anyone else, becoming responsible for someone else. It was a dangerous decision to make, but one he felt was necessary. It wasn't simply the connection, the empathy, he felt for the younger man. He was concerned that a wild card like the lunatic that called himself the Joker might try something else in regard to the boy. He was bracing himself for the day when the clown would strike again. He also wanted to be there, vigilant, in the face of whatever Grayson concocted as a reasonable method for his revenge. Stopping the boy might be the only way to keep him safe.
Whatever else was the case, Bruce wanted Grayson to have a normal life. No matter what he told Grayson, Batman should have been able to save his family. Because of that he wanted Grayson to experience life as he hadn't been able. College, a relationship with a woman that could result in something meaningful. And even kids and marriage if that was what he wanted. He didn't know the younger man well enough to even hazard a guess. For now he could offer friendship. And a safe place to rest his head at night.
Bruce was standing about ten feet from his parked Jaquar. The rebuilding of Wayne Manor was moving along at a pace spurred on by that which an endless supply of money could provide. He felt good about this, about restoring his father's home. He still had his penthouse in the city, but Palisades had always been his home. And now it would be again. He fully expected that he could be living here within a month if he pushed it. He'd like to have Grayson settled here before the next term began. He owed the young man whatever stability he could offer.
He heard the other vehicles approaching up the long drive. The gate was still standing as proudly as it ever had and for the first time in months Wayne Manor was looking more and more like its former self. He had decided to do the exchange here for the privacy it would provide for Grayson versus the home downtown. Not only that but there was still work being done in converting Bruce's bachelor pad into something better able to sustain the three of them, Dick, himself and Alfred. He looked over at his butler, the closest thing to family he had, "What do I say to him Alfred? How do I help him get through this?"
"You know better than I, sir. Just listen to him. Be brutally honest." Pennyworth smiled, his words full of hard won wisdom and a touch of humor, "Its always worked for me."
Bruce wasn't sure he liked that answer. Truth, honesty, simply getting close to someone like Dick would put him in danger. He suddenly felt as if he was making the biggest mistake of his life.
Joined: Oct 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 37 Karma: 0
Re: Starting Over (Grayson, Gordon) « Reply #1 on Nov 3, 2009, 10:24pm »
”I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” the young man droned, eyes plastered to the scenery that whizzed by as the car sped down the winding roads leading to Wayne Manor. For someone who didn’t want to be viewed as a child, he certainly acted like one. The acrobat leaned his head on the glass of the backseat window that he stared out of, sighing and huffing and puffing to himself—anything to make his protest known to the others in the car with him. And, most importantly, to Commissioner Gordon, who sat in the seat in front of him.
His foot tapped restlessly on the floor of the police car, divulging his uneasiness no matter how masked it seemed to be by anger. Something had to give. One day his parents are taken from him in the most unexpected of ways, and just as his heart was beginning to heal someone drilled another curveball at Grayson. How was he supposed to handle it all? Surely there weren’t any “Orphan-life for Dummies” paperbacks for him to cram with. If life was supposed to be a test, then where were his study materials? Winging it was the only way possible for him to go on, and that scared the boy. His foot continued its tapping.
Dick wondered what he would say to the man he would be moving in with today. Bruce Wayne was his name. Besides that and the fact that his trademark W was plastered everywhere (albeit tagged with graffiti) around Gotham, (a symbol of status, the young man assumed), he knew nothing of the man. He was told that Wayne pretty much controlled the city and all its workings, except for the responsibility of protection against crime which so obviously belonged to the Batman. Some things were simply better left to the superheroes as far as Dick was concerned.
The events of his nighttime expedition on a Gotham rooftop with the Batman and Catwoman were still fresh in the boy’s mind, even if he couldn’t quite remember much of the ride in the tumbler or being dropped off at Commissioner Gordon’s house thereafter—the sun had begun to rise by that point, and no amount of willpower could keep his eyes open once day began to break. His lack of sleep over the past few weeks finally caught up with the boy, and physical and mental exhaustion swallowed him up for good after that night. He slept for almost a full day afterward. Since their meeting he thought a lot about the accusations he made toward the Bat, whom received dual judgment from the majority of Gotham City. Dick felt somewhat that he was on the border of both judgments. His relationship with the Batman was a delicate one, where any event could sway Dick’s opinion of the older man. Bat. Whatever he was.
Coming around another curvature in the road, a mansion came into Dick’s line of sight. He blinked. Did all homes look that massive when surrounded by emptiness or was Wayne Manor truly enormous? As the car approached he decided on the latter, chuckling coldly to himself. He could see it now; people waiting hand and foot on him, eager to express their condolences pity for him, just like everyone else he’d come into contact with since the Gala. Of course he appreciated the genuine concern about how he was coping, but it sickened him to be bombarded by media and consequently pawned into getting a stranger’s face in some photo for ‘offering condolences’ when in honesty they were after their filthy fifteen minutes of fame and could probably give a rat’s ass about how he was feeling at all whatsoever. He swallowed his anger, trying not to go into this situation negatively. Trying.
As the car appeared to turn onto one long road leading directly to the entrance of Wayne Manor, Dick glanced over his shoulder and out the back window of the police car, hoping to see Gotham close in distance. Instead he saw another police car tailing them and quickly remembered the police escort he was receiving. Apparently there were many reasons for what appeared to Dick as an overreaction, one of which being the Joker’s recent threat on his life. Perhaps getting Grayson out of the heart of Gotham and to the heavily secluded and protected Wayne Manor would serve as a preventative measure for any future stunts by the malicious clown. He wondered if Wayne’s offer to take the boy in as a ward was simply for the benefit of his self-image; or did he really want Dick out of danger? A small trailer was being towed by the final car of the escort; it contained his motorcycle. Dick nearly called the entire deed off completely when they refused to let him ride his motorcycle to Bruce’s home—they claimed it was to keep him from fleeing the city. And perhaps they were right… Coming to living with Bruce Wayne was about the biggest joke he had ever heard. Dick didn’t see himself as a child and he sure as hell didn’t see Bruce as a father figure, so how was this agreement supposed to work out? The young man sighed once more.
”Gordon, I swear I’ll get the hell outta this town if you just don’t make me go.” Dick tried one final plea as the car pulled up the long driveway of the estate and rolled to a stop. Were he ten years old the boy might have been more agreeable to this arrangement, but he was quite old enough to govern his own life and definitely did not need the pampering of some billionaire’s adoptive son. He needed to be out, free, finding the justice his parents deserved from the Joker. He just hoped that this Bruce Wayne character could understand that and let the boy go without much of a fuss. He was already being hounded by the media and after the mess at the courthouse he was especially thankful that the transfer was taking place out of their jurisdiction—he didn’t know if he could handle more cameras shoved into his face and exploiting his pain.
Once the car was parked along the curb the boy muttered another comment to the effect of ’here we go,’ and opened the door of the car, slipping from the automobile and promptly shoving his hands into his pockets. He wouldn’t be shaking any hands. The young man inwardly chuckled as he spotted the dark haired billionaire right beside a Jaquar; he remembered his face from the courtroom. An old man in a suit stood beside the younger gentleman. He looked somewhat like a servant. He lifted his brows and consequently pulled the ends of his lips into a very small, forced smile. Well, this was sufficiently awkward. Unwilling to introduce himself to either of them—he was quite sure they already knew his name—Dick merely glanced back and forth between the both of them and the Commissioner who now stood beside the young man. One troubled orphan: signed, sealed, delivered.
Re: Starting Over (Grayson, Gordon) « Reply #2 on Nov 4, 2009, 12:00am »
"I can't believe you're making me do this."
Richard had been nothing but inconsiderate the moment Batman had dropped him off at Gordon's home. Jim had considered telling Batman that he couldn't take him, that he couldn't do anything for the boy since his family was gone. Death was a hard thing to handle, he understood this, and too many times in his life of being a police officer had he seen that kind of thing in Gotham City. Sometimes it hurt him to know that children were becoming orphans every day. He felt he had to do something about this, about how the Joker had killed off the parents of someone that had been looking forward to a bright future. Jim wasn't a superhero; he wasn't capable of doing all the things that people expected of him but at least he tried. That's why he'd taken the boy in for a few days, offering him up a place to rest and stay at his own home, and that's why he was going to take up Batman's advice in talking to Bruce Wayne.
That meeting had gone over well. Jim had expected the billionaire to say no to the proposition of taking care of Dick until hew as at least twenty-one, in which he could roam free for the rest of his life anywhere he wanted. Mister Wayne had taken it well, even going so far as to offer up any commodities that were necessary to the young acrobatic orphan. Jim was proud of that and glad that at least a few good people stood tall in a city of so many lowlifes. That's why he was in the Palisades, driving a police car with another patrol officer riding shotgun, and Dick sitting in the back sulking. "I'm sorry Richard. This is the best course of action that we have. I'd take you in myself but I already have enough on my plate as it is. Another person in the family would be too hectic." He tried not to make it sound like he didn't want the young man around. While he was sulky and over-reactive most of the time, Dick was still more company, and finally another male presence that was good for Timothy. He'd tried so hard to give the attention that he was supposed to as a father to Tim but he had failed so many times that it felt reasonable to give up. Instead he had taken it in stride and just pushed on, eventually getting Richard there.
”Gordon, I swear I’ll get the hell outta this town if you just don’t make me go.” Shaking his head Gordon kept driving up the long way that led right to the entrance to Wayne Manor, his eyes going up to it briefly before focusing on Bruce and his butler. Jim had known the Wayne Family his entire life, and this meant a lot to him. As the car pulled to a stop he turned a little, glancing at Richard over his shoulder. "It's not a matter of you just leaving; it's that we don't want to see you get hurt or killed, just like your parents. Protect yourself a little by doing this. If not for yourself then for your family." He popped open the car door and got out, approaching Bruce and offering to shake hands. They'd already greeted each other many a times since this little court dealing and hearing, and he was just glad that they finally were giving hope to a life that deserved it.
"Mister Wayne. Alfred." A nod was given to each of them as Gordon drew out an envelope, holding a few papers and whatever else was needed for the boy to live comfortably under his new lawful guardian. "This is the rest of the paperwork. Signed, completed, dated...and ready to hand him over as your new ward." Jim wasn't about to say "kid" because Dick was young. There was no reason for him to be called a kid when he was nothing close to it. Just one more year and he'd be an adult just like the rest of them, which is why he turned back to the young man with a small smile, albeit weak and not impressing. "Richard. Remember now, if you need anything, you have my cell number. Mister Wayne does as well." He was offering and hoping at the same time that the boy wouldn't hate him forever for doing this. Sometimes he acted too much out of paternal instinct for his own good.
Batman had been adamant about this, and Jim trusted the caped crusader's judgment every time before; this was nothing new.
Re: Starting Over (Grayson, Gordon) « Reply #3 on Nov 4, 2009, 1:00am »
"Mister Wayne. Alfred." A nod was given to each of them as Gordon drew out an envelope, holding a few papers and whatever else was needed for the boy to live comfortably under his new lawful guardian.
"Good evening, Commissioner Gordon." Bruce offered a warm smile and shook the man's hand. He was careful not to exert too much force or strength in that grip. It was important in these matters to know the difference and remain firm enough and yet yield properly so as not to cause the other an discomfort. A good firm handshake, his father had said was like a good hug. When dealing with anyone outside of family, it was meant to be nothing more than a greeting and a sign of respect. Boa constrictors and clammy, cold fish had no hands and thus no place in a hand shake.
"This is the rest of the paperwork. Signed, completed, dated...and ready to hand him over as your new ward." Jim wasn't about to say "kid" because Dick was young. There was no reason for him to be called a kid when he was nothing close to it. Just one more year and he'd be an adult just like the rest of them, which is why he turned back to the young man with a small smile, albeit weak and not impressing. "Richard. Remember now, if you need anything, you have my cell number. Mister Wayne does as well."
"I certainly do." Bruce mused aloud with a pleased expression that spoke of him being one of the privileged few. It was a veritable hot line direct to the Commissioner. But then of course, Gordon has his number as well. Sometimes he questioned whether or not Gordon suspected that he was the Batman. Jim Gordon was smart. For that reason he kept as much distance as he could reasonably expect to keep given their publicly minded goals of improving life in Gotham.
"Thank you for agreeing to bring Master Grayson all the way out here." Alfred offered politely, in case Bruce failed to do so. This was of course matched by the oldest man present offering the billionaire a smirk that clearly said, you are good, master Bruce, but I am better. This of course referring to his manners and his sense of decorum.
"I've spent a good part of the day finalizing some of the finishing touches on Wayne Manor." He indicated the massive home behind them, virtually restored to its exact predecessor, baring a few improvements to the south wing. And to the hidden cave beneath it. He would offer them both a tour now, out of politeness, but even if they wished to see the progress of the rebuild there would certainly be areas they would not see. He invited, "We've still got a great deal to accomplish if we hope to be ready for the first event planned here. In....gosh...is it really only a month away now?" He smiled, his face taking on a sort of goofiness that he used completely to his continued advantage. He could almost feel Alfred kicking him now.
"Would you care to see it?" He asked, a mixture of pride and good will now in both his tone and his expression. He could most definitely expect a good solid kick any moment now. Alfred was of the impression that they shouldn't show the young man his rooms until they were ready to leave him to them. That he would need that time to get his bearings. And yes, Grayson would have a room here, but not yet. It wasn't safe to raise a child in a home under construction after all. He was still slightly amused, at Grayson's expense of course that he had been put into this position. If any one had informed Bruce at twenty that he was to be placed under the care of a man who was hardly much more than an older brother he would have balked. And probably withdrawn his trust fund and left town.
He presumed it was for the best. Maybe he could help secure a positive future for the younger man. And if trouble came calling for Richard Grayson, it would find the Batman. He felt the need to explain something, he turned to Grayson and said, "I've taken the liberty of setting up accommodation for you at my place in the city, but perhaps we can take a look at your rooms here before we go grab something to eat?" He'd used the excuse of the renovation to make sure Grayson got an idea of what he would be giving up if he did decide to run. It wasn't that he wouldn't be able to find him, Bruce would rather not have to go through anything like that. This was going to be difficult enough.
"Shall we?" Bruce asked, deciding to reintroduce himself later, hopefully in a more casual way than he had been forced to in the courtroom. Looking to Alfred for any guidance he could provide, Bruce waited to see if he would be taken up on his offer of a tour, if not he would move on to phase two of his plan. He wanted to help Grayson, sure, but the Batman wanted the boy safe. To do that, he had to convince Richard that there was no better place for him to be than with Bruce Wayne.
Joined: Oct 2009 Gender: Female Posts: 37 Karma: 0
Re: Starting Over (Grayson, Gordon) « Reply #4 on Nov 5, 2009, 12:03am »
[[OOC: This is so bad. I really apologize. Blame the World Series; it distracted me. >.<]]
It's not a matter of you just leaving; it's that we don't want to see you get hurt or killed, just like your parents. Protect yourself a little by doing this. If not for yourself then for your family. At the beginning of Gordon’s comment, Dick nearly forced a condescending laugh at the cop; if they didn’t want to see anyone killed then how was it at all possible for the Joker and Scarecrow to escape Arkham? It was obvious that Gotham’s justice and crime prevention units left something to be desired, but in the same breath, this city was littered with some of the worst criminals the nation had ever seen, let alone been expected to deal with, so he cut the commissioner some slack in that respect. Gordon’s final words struck the boy in a much deeper place. He wondered how his father would react to the childishness he’d been exhibiting as of late. Dick shuddered at the thought. This was not the way he was raised; he wasn’t some cocky kid who wanted his freedom to go get high and spend the remainder of his life impregnating girls with nothing better to do than raise fatherless children. He knew too many people that did that. Too many children without dreams, and Dick knew that wasn’t the life he was meant to have. Parents or not, Dick was destined for more.
As the exchanges of greetings went on around him, Grayson watched with interest, observing the way Bruce interacted with the commissioner. He could tell already that the atmosphere here was far different than the one in the courtroom just days ago. The men shook hands but it seemed more like a greeting than a formality, something Dick was thankful for given the virtual lack of interest directed toward his well-being exhibited by the court during the custody hearing. Perhaps Bruce Wayne was more than just a business-minded, industry mogul. Maybe.
This is the rest of the paperwork. Signed, completed, dated...and ready to hand him over as your new ward." Jim wasn't about to say "kid" because Dick was young. There was no reason for him to be called a kid when he was nothing close to it. Just one more year and he'd be an adult just like the rest of them, which is why he turned back to the young man with a small smile, albeit weak and not impressing. "Richard. Remember now, if you need anything, you have my cell number. Mister Wayne does as well." The young man couldn’t help but feel like a shelter dog as his ‘papers’ were handed from person to person. They were passing his future back and forth, all neatly wrapped within the confines of a manila envelope. He knew the men weren’t trying to make him feel like a piece of property, it just happened that way. Dick tried to swallow the feeling before it brewed too much of any emotion within him.
"Thank you for agreeing to bring Master Grayson all the way out here." Alfred offered politely, in case Bruce failed to do so. Dick glanced up from his shoes, caught off guard by one distinctive word the older man said: master. Was this guy kidding? Since when was Dick someone’s master? The boy tried not to look too confused, but the bewilderment was undeniable upon his features as he replied, ”Thanks. You can call me Dick.” He then reluctantly offered his hand to the man, smiling faintly. And as he released the oldest man’s hand from his grip Bruce spoke up again, capturing the acrobat’s attention. His gaze fluttered upward at the billionaire’s mention of Wayne Manor and the reconstruction of the home. Of course Dick never saw the original manor, but this version was pretty damn impressive and certainly didn’t look more than a few months old. "Would you care to see it?" He asked, a mixture of pride and good will now in both his tone and his expression. The young man thought for a moment, glancing back and forth between the white haired man and Bruce. He really didn’t want to give them the impression that he’d be staying with them; after all, his plan was to hit the ground running back to Gotham as soon as the fleet of police cars’ dust cleared his tracks. But for now, he was stuck here, and Hell, he was increasingly curious about the mansion ever since seeing it from miles back on the dusty palisades.
Shooting a final glance to Gordon as if to ask ‘well, can I?’ Dick nodded, replying ”Sure.” As Wayne made another comment regarding the manor, the young man quirked a brow at him. ”Rooms?” he asked, incredulous. His pale gaze lifted once more, scanning the vast amount of windows on the front of the mansion alone. He assumed Wayne hadn’t misspoken based off of what he saw. Dick had to admit; it would be difficult to leave this place behind. Having never actually lived in a home, the young man would have reveled in the chance to call a place as wonderful as Wayne Manor his residence, besides the circumstances of course. Part of the acrobat felt like he would be betraying the rest of his family by taking accommodations from the rich man. It was another reason for his plan not to stay for too long. Though as his stomach rumbled just slightly, Dick mentally noted that perhaps staying for lunch wasn’t completely out of the question.
As the group prepared to enter the manor, Dick hesitated slightly, holding Gordon up. ”Where are they going to put my bike?” the boy asked, his eyes searching out the men unloading his vintage automobile from the trailer. He was protective of it to say the very least and didn’t want the men to try and pull anything on him. He could see it now: ”Oh, sorry Mr. Grayson, but it appears that your motorcycle was deemed unfit for travel. We’re afraid it had to be confiscated.” It wasn’t out of the question to have concern about his only personal belonging, though the fingertips slipped inside the pocket of his leather jacket curled around the mask he wore the night of the Gala, another reminder of just how little he had. He could hear the men calling out to one another and shoving the door of the trailer up. Dick squirmed to get a better look as he walked inside the home.
It only made the surprise of seeing the inside of the manor that much greater as Dick stepped into the masterpiece of a home.
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