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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 21, 2015 17:38:37 GMT
Barbara sat crossed legged on her bed in the unlit room. Her purple curtains were pulled shut letting the light from the television screen be the only flicker in the dim bedroom. She was facing the television and watching the news which in recent days had become more and more bizarre. Reports of vigilantes springing up all across the City and not just the woman Barbara had seen dressed like a bat. Talk of the Joker was also frequently played. Barbara still felt uncomfortable at just the mention of his name. That however was nothing compared to the news that Harvey Dent had returned. Barbara saw his twisted face every night in her dreams. When she had been growing up, it was Harvey 'Two-Face' Dent that had been under her bed. He was the reason she had wet the bed constantly as a child and he was the reason she had spent the vast majority of her life living in Cleveland and away from her father. The worst part of his return: the crowds loved it. He had become Gotham's prodigal son and Barbara tasted bile every time she saw his face. The fact that Cobblepot had allied himself with such a lunatic cemented the idea in Barbara's mind that Oswald was not to be trusted. None of those were the top news story however. That title belonged to the incident at Haley's Circus that had happened last night. The death of two talented people, in the prime of their life. From the little Barbara had seen of them, they had seemed so happy. She had even been jealous of Ricky to have two loving parents. Now he had none. Barbara kept playing that moment over and over in her head. It had been the noise of the tightrope snapping that had upset her the most. There had been moments of silence as the couple fell before the screaming had started. Whilst most of the crowd tried to flee or just simply sat and shrieked, her father had leapt forwards and scooped up the now orphaned boy. Barbara had felt like the world had slowed down. She had struggled to stand and had run after her father. There had been several police officers and un-uniformed cops that had finally sprung to action by guiding people out the Big Top whilst keeping them away from the bodies. Barbara ran through the seating and after her father who had already taken Ricky outside. She saw Ricky pushed into a car that drove away and that had been that. Her father hadn't even come to see her home himself. He'd told one of the un-uniformed cops to drive her away. They'd got home and Barbara had spent two hours just pacing whilst the cop, Officer Jordan Rich, helped himself to some of their leftover banana bread. Finally, when the door had opened Barbara had raced down the stairs only to find her dad's secretary, Stacey, stepping inside. Stacey had told Barbara that her Dad was going to be out all night at the GCPD and had no idea when he was coming home. Stacey had offered to cook but Barbara hadn't been hungry. She'd barely slept and now it was the morning, her Dad was still not home. He'd texted her this morning simply with: "Am safe. Another busy day. Hopefully dinner tonight? x"
Barbara wasn't going to just wait for her father to come home to tell her what was happening. Deciding to avoid the awkwardness of getting past Stacey and Officer Rich, Barbara pulled on some black jeans and her dark purple hoody. She then climbed out her bedroom window.
Less than an hour later, Barbara had dumped her bike in the bushes outside the grand building that had once been Wayne Manor. In the past three years, it had been home to the orphans of Gotham City. The news had claimed Ricky had been brought there after the death of his parents. Keeping her hood firmly up and her face hidden, Barbara made her way through the grounds. Finding one of the back doors open, she entered into a kitchen parlour. Barbara started to make her way through the house.
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Post by Bruce Wayne - The Batman on Jul 22, 2015 0:05:49 GMT
"Miss Gordon, I think you have the wrong residence."
Due to Wayne Manor's immense size and less than decorated interior, voices bounced as if it were the Grand Canyon. I was beginning to press through the rotating book-case as I had tired myself out with research regarding Earth's superhuman golden era. Superguy to Waterman- things were strange, but I know that it was just the tip of the iceberg. Before reaching my handout and pushing forward Fall of the House Usher, I kept my hand to myself and listened in as Alfred's voice continued.
"A girl your age with your father's inquisitive nature, I can only presume you thought that you were visiting The Martha and Thomas Wayne Home for Displaced Children?"
I heard no reply, but I did know that Jim Gordon's daughter was back in town. The last time I seen the girl was the night where Dent's true face- literally- was shown- he was a psychotic maniac and he was willing on murdering children to get his point across. Seeing him on stage along side Cobblepot turned my stomach- it was disgusting because they were up to no good, but they would see that their criminal element wouldn't be tolerated- not when I was back and ready to go.
"I think I may be right. I do believe the building you're looking for isn't quite as decorated as Wayne Manor is-"
.. sarcasm, Alfred- she can't be no older than 17. She's not stupid, but British humor may not be her area of expertise.
".Nonetheless, I won't dumb things down for you- you're the daughter of Jim Gordon so you can take the news. A bit after Master Bruce had left the estate to my care in his will, I was told to have Wayne Manor be used productively but as anything else with this cursed city, political red tape stopped it. It was but a month or two before City Council decided that funding an orphanage of this size on this grounds was not 'fair to tax paying citizens' due to a larger than normal utilities. Despite making a guarantee that Wayne Enterprises would cover any monetary losses the city may encounter, they decided to use an older, less structurally sound area for the poor displaced children of the city.. Nothing I said or did could help that, even with your father's backing, we failed. But not to bore you with that nonsense.. You've visited at a terribly awful time Miss Gordon. I'm afraid that renovations are underway. Any other time I would love to show you around the place but sadly- there's nothing to see."
There was no time-table when I was going to 'return,' I was taking it in stride. I didn't want Gotham City to be renamed Resurrection City with formerly dead people popping up, that wasn't what I was about. This situation wasn't about me, this was bigger than that. Sure, there was part of me that did want to steal the spotlight from Cobblepot to make sure that his campaign takes a hit and I would probably use my returned status to endorse his competition, but me being back means so much more for Gotham. I was selfish earlier, I made everything about me. While I did need to continue that act at least in public, I know that in the end- Gotham City needs The Bat- the real Bat. As much as I appreciated the effort of other vigilantes, The Batwomans.. The Nightwings, they performed a honorable task, but there was one of me- Gotham is MY city, my mother and father promised to make it a better place and I was not going to fail them.
"I would much prefer to personally take you home, especially in this part of the night. I am also under the impression that due to the events at The Grey Knight Festival, your father must have you under lock and key- of course, for your own protection. Miss Gordon.. this is something I do not need to tell you, but rather will anyway just to refresh your memory. Gotham City is never as it appears, you know that experience, don't you?"
Cryptic- grandfatherly Alfred, how I miss those days.
"You need to be careful Miss Gordon, your father albeit a very good man, leaves a hefty red target on your back. Those that have difference in beliefs with him will use any tool available to hurt him, and you're not off the table sweetheart. Please, for my sake- be careful, do not be careless, not in Gotham. You have too much to lose."
That was almost the same speech he gave me- a nice way of telling me to hit the bricks and don't look back. The difference between Barbara and myself though, she did iin fact have her future ahead of her. She could move away from Gotham- live in Florence and become something there. I didn't have that same luxury, Gotham needed me- Barbara was still coming of age- much like the Grayson boy who had an eerie twist of fate that reminded him of myself. The situation unfolding though, it really was an eye-opener as it made me see that at one point in this city's history, a pretty teenage girl- with an influential father like Jim Gordon or not didn't need to worry about being kidnapped, mugged or anything of that nature- even at night. She could enjoy a spin, come home and finish her homework and get up the next day. It was an embarrassment seeing what had come to Gotham, and I was going to fix that- I needed to.
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 22, 2015 23:15:52 GMT
Wayne Manor wasn't exactly what Barbara had expected. There had always been rumours about the grand old building and what could be behind it's thick closed doors. Barbara had heard that it had become an orphanage whilst she had been living in Cleveland. It had been a fact she'd forgotten until the news had said about a Wayne orphanage. It wasn't until Barbara started to walk through the kitchen that she began to think that this was not the orphanage. For a start, it was rather quiet. No sound of any child. There were no toys or mess anywhere. The kitchen was spotless and everything seemed to shine in the dim light. Barbara could hear the ticking of a grandfather clock as she neared a door. Pressing her ear against it, she could only hear the clock ticking. "Miss Gordon, I think you have the wrong residence."Barbara jumped backwards in shock and let out a small squeak of shock. Whipping her head around, she saw a smartly dressed ageing man standing a few meters away. His face was perfectly neutral and his posture was equally as perfected.
"A girl your age with your father's inquisitive nature, I can only presume you thought that you were visiting The Martha and Thomas Wayne Home for Displaced Children?" Barbara swallowed hard. Idiot. She had thought she was so clever sneaking past Officer Rich and crossing Gotham all by herself. She had even started crowing when she had managed to get inside the building without alerting anyone or having to resort to smashing windows. "I think I may be right. I do believe the building you're looking for isn't quite as decorated as Wayne Manor is. Nonetheless, I won't dumb things down for you- you're the daughter of Jim Gordon so you can take the news. A bit after Master Bruce had left the estate to my care in his will, I was told to have Wayne Manor be used productively but as anything else with this cursed city, political red tape stopped it. It was but a month or two before City Council decided that funding an orphanage of this size on this grounds was not 'fair to tax paying citizens' due to a larger than normal utilities. Despite making a guarantee that Wayne Enterprises would cover any monetary losses the city may encounter, they decided to use an older, less structurally sound area for the poor displaced children of the city.. Nothing I said or did could help that, even with your father's backing, we failed. But not to bore you with that nonsense.. You've visited at a terribly awful time Miss Gordon. I'm afraid that renovations are underway. Any other time I would love to show you around the place but sadly- there's nothing to see." Barbara stepped away from the door and removed her hood; allowing her red hair to droop over her shoulders. She felt almost deflated. This could've been her real first night out as a vigilante. Her first chance to prove to herself that she was capable. Her first chance to truly make Gotham a better place and already she was making huge mistakes. Barbara looked away from the elderly man and stared at her shoes whilst shuffling uncomfortably on the spot. She had heard of the Butler that had worked for the Wayne family right up to the death of Bruce Wayne. His brash cockney accent didn't seem to belong to this well kept man. "I would much prefer to personally take you home, especially in this part of the night. I am also under the impression that due to the events at The Grey Knight Festival, your father must have you under lock and key- of course, for your own protection." Barbara couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and flash the Butler a look. For an old man whom she had assumed to be rather confined to an old, quiet house, he knew a lot. "Miss Gordon.. this is something I do not need to tell you, but rather will anyway just to refresh your memory. Gotham City is never as it appears, you know that experience, don't you? You need to be careful Miss Gordon, your father albeit a very good man, leaves a hefty red target on your back. Those that have difference in beliefs with him will use any tool available to hurt him, and you're not off the table sweetheart. Please, for my sake- be careful, do not be careless, not in Gotham. You have too much to lose."Barbara felt her cheeks burning. She felt that the Butler was trying to be kind but she just felt like a scolded child. Why had she even bothered? "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to intrude or...you know...break and enter. Although I didn't actually break I...just entered. You don't need to give me a lift. I left my bike out front. I should probably go. Oh and if we could keep this between us and not tell my Dad then that'd be great."Barbara turned and opened the closed kitchen door. Beyond was a long hallway covered with various paintings. Barbara started walking. "Is this the right way to the front door?" |
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Post by Bruce Wayne - The Batman on Jul 23, 2015 2:44:42 GMT
Gordon would have an issue as Barbara got older, I thought. She definitely had her father's investigative nature as Alfred pointed out- in a city like Gotham where unravelling too much could lead to problems, she needed to be extremely careful. I knew that there was more to what met the eye with her sudden appearance at Wayne Manor, I would of liked to figure things out but preferred to keep myself hidden from most- it was safer this way, until of course I would make my grand return. Hearing the footsteps move from the kitchen into the grand hallway that would lead into one of the two studies, I followed the sound as Alfred's voice rang out.
"Actually Miss Gordon, the front door is back this way."
One thing I had to give Alfred credit for was the amount of patience that he had. It didn't matter what the situation entailed, he would keep things going charging forward, he was the definition of an 'oak' that I had come to learn about during my time away.
"But I do beg you Miss Gordon, please allow me to chaffeur you home. We could load the bicycle into the back storage compartment and I could let you off a block or two away from your home in order to protect from consequences your father will indubitably levey."
I heard no response, luckily for Barbara- Alfred was the Patron Saint of Patience and Persistence.
"I would not be able to live with myself if one of the bottom-feeders that make up the city's population were to make an attempt on you."
As brash as Alfred could be, he did have a heart of gold. He would often go out of his way to ensure safety.. as he did for me time, and time again. It didn't matter if it was he attending board meetings when I was forced to miss them whilst dealing with injuries from my nightly activities as The Bat- or crafting sly tales of why I would miss any one of the dozen social events through the year. Alfred Pennyworth was much more than a butler, he was an inspiration, a man that had nerves of steel but a heart that cared for all.
"Would you mind doing this old man the favor of allowing him a clear conscience by personally taking you home?"
I don't know if she would be able to pass up such an offer, I mean moving through town in Alfred's priceless 1959 Aston Martin DB4 would be great. The car was a gift from my father as a thank you for Alfred leaving the presence of The Royal Family to tend to mine. The car never picked up much miles, it was parked for the most part in the garage and kept spotless but since my absence, Alfred had made more use of it, especially since he no longer had to valet me around to upkeep the playboy image. I had my hands pressed to the wall- Wayne Manor was the haven for many secrets- The Bat was just the beginning. The home was originally used as a protective zone for runaway slaves- what had become The Cave was actually an underground railroad to get them to the safety of Canada. The paintings that I saw Barbara eye were purposely placed there, each had a different opening I could see through as I moved through the walls. She stopped and looked at one- I believe it was an oil painting of Cain and Abel with Abel in Cain's arms after the murder. Looking at her through a small hole set near eye-level of where Abel's eyes were, she had a spark in her eye that definitely told me there was much more to the girl that met the eye.. She was up to something.. and I needed to figure it out before she got hurt.
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 23, 2015 20:41:05 GMT
Barbara felt a tinge of guilt as she kept walking away from the kitchen. She continued down the hallway. It's clear extravagance and beauty was almost astounding enough to deafen her to the Butler's voice calling from behind. Several chandeliers hung from the ceiling all the way down the hall and their dim glow reached down onto the carpeted floor. Barbara glanced to the side as she passed several paintings; each more detailed yet vaguely unsettling than the last. A portrait of a young woman on a horse, a cottage on a moor and a bird staring out of some reeds. "...you off a block or two away from your home in order to protect from consequences your father will indubitably levey."
The Butler was still calling out to her. She didn't look back but could hear that he had left the kitchen and was slowly following down the Hall. He was several meters back and, although he was trying his best to dissuade her from walking further into the Mansion, he wasn't showing any sign of attempting to use force. Barbara did feel bad but felt worse at the idea of returning home empty handed. So she wasn't going to find Ricky Grayson here and see if he knew anymore about the death of his parents but she felt something about Wayne Manor. It didn't feel right. The Butler wasn't just showing her concern. There was more. He was worried maybe? Anxious that she would find something. Barbara felt she was over-thinking the situation out of desperation to find something. Yet he had known her Dad had her under guard at home. How would he have known that? She didn't think the Butler knew her father well enough to have inside knowledge. She didn't remember her Dad ever mention him. "Would you mind doing this old man the favour of allowing him a clear conscience by personally taking you home?" "Thanks for the offer. I think a lift home is probably the best idea. Do you have a phone anywhere so I can call my Dad and let him know I'm safe?" Barbara felt she knew this old man and pulling at his softer side could buy her some extra minutes at Wayne Manor. She could feel her phone in her pocket and resisted touching it as she mentioned the word 'phone'. She didn't look back and kept moving. She passed a painting where one stone faced man carried carried another. She didn't like it. She felt as though the man's eyes followed her as she walked. Reaching the end of the Hall, Barbara could either turn left or right. To the left, the door was closed. Even though she was now very much going as she pleased, she didn't really want to open many doors so she turned right and instantly regretted it. The room was large and relatively simple considering the house. The room was pretty bare with several chairs covered in white sheets in the centre. A rather sorry looking large plant sat in the corner closest to the doors and was drooping. The wall to her left had large windows that overlooked the grounds. The old grandfather clock she had heard was in the far right corner and was still ticking away. However, her attention was drawn to the opposite wall from the door she had passed through. A large marble fireplace held some burning logs that illuminated the room. Above the fireplace was a gigantic painting. It was of three people. A young boy looked down at her and standing either side of him were his parents. It was the Wayne family gazing down at her from their lofty position. Barbara walked to the middle of the room without tearing her eyes from the painting. The man and woman were smiling. The woman was dressed in a beautiful dark dress with a string of pearls around her neck. The man had his hand placed on the woman's shoulder and seemed to swell with pride at the opportunity to show anyone his family. Barbara guessed that decades ago, when Wayne Manor had been full of life, this painting would have been a friendly sight and many would have enjoyed it. Now, it had become a memorial. A reminder of better times. An echo. It was as dead as the rest of the shell that had been the home of Gotham's finest family. Barbara avoided the gaze of the young boy. His blue eyes seemed to pierce out of the very canvas they had been encased in. Barbara turned back, expecting to see the Butler still chasing her as a shadow moved in the Hall. |
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Post by Bruce Wayne - The Batman on Jul 24, 2015 4:15:35 GMT
"I am fairly certain Commissioner Gordon knows not of your presence here.. I doubt you're foolish enough to get yourself into that kind of trouble."
Hearing Alfred make mention of Gordon's ignorance to his daughter's presence here, this was beginning to get good. The game of cat and mouse was rather entertaining, I wasn't sure of Alfred felt the same way but I knew that the girl was after something. I doubt she had any idea I was lurking through the walls, following her- she didn't have ESP.. or so I hoped. Despite being Gordon's daughter, her knowing I was alive and well before making it public could destroy everything I'm working towards in regards to destroying Cobblepot's campaign. Hearing only one set of footsteps as she continued through the Manor, I heard it come to a sudden stop- sorting through the areas as quietly as I could, she was looking off into nothing.. it wasn't until Alfred popped up in front of her without her knowledge, he knew the grounds like the back of his hand, attempting to escape him wouldn't work out.
"Miss Gordon, please.. enough of the games. It is apparent that you're here seeking something so what do you come in search of? I know you're not here because Wayne Manor is the happiest place in the world, it's quite gloomy and dead if I may say. Maybe you were interested in one of the orphaned boys, I don't know- but I am sure that you're here for something.. it would be much easier to tell me what it is and I can see if we can get it for you. Otherwise, I will be retiring for the evening soon, I'm a tired.. old man, Miss Gordon- what can I do for you?"
There was a few rumors I had heard growing up that Wayne Manor was haunted by the ghost of "Solomon Grundy." The tale was strange due to the fact that the first Waynes to move into the [then] Van Derm Estate was Solomon and Zebediah Wayne. Solomon was a judge, and he said to have a gavel made of steel, making sure to keep the city safe from anyone that tried to take advantage of it. Somehow in history, a tale was spun where Solomon Wayne was involved in an affair with a street-walker and the street -walker faked a pregnancy to extort money from Solomon. Long story short, he was killed on the grounds of what is now Wayne Manor but had his body dumped in Slaughter Swamp.. it was a wives tale that stuck around until it was discovered that Cyrus Gold was actually the man killed and it wasn't on these grounds. It didn't stop people from keeping the story alive, I often used it as the premise to multiple stories, maybe it was time to bring the tale to life?
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 24, 2015 18:00:29 GMT
Barbara glared at the Butler. "Listen, I get that you want me to leave and I get that I really shouldn't be here. This isn't my house and I'm clearly not welcome. However, you don't know my Dad. You don't get to tell me when I can and can't phone him and don't call me foolish. You're a nice man and you've been very patient but you don't get to do that." Barbara's chest heaved up and down as she tried to catch her breath. She hadn't expected such a sudden flare of anger. She knew she needed to calm down. She was nervous. She was frightened and it was causing her to lash out yet she wanted this man to know he couldn't just make demands from her. She wanted him to know she was in control. "What do I want? I want..."Barbara turned away from the kind old man and leant both hands on sheet covering the closest chair. Looking upwards, Barbara's eyes met with the young boy; protected by his parents. In that moment, she knew what she wanted. Wiping a tear from her eye, she spoke to the Butler without looking at him. "I want you to do what you did for years. I want you to help a boy that's lost his parents. This place was a home once. It had people inside it that loved each other. Now it's just a pile of expensive bricks. It doesn't have to be."Barbara finally turned round and approached the man in an attempt to emphasise her point.
"Bruce Wayne died wanting this place to be a home for young kids without parents...for people just like him. I'm not asking you to give shelter to every orphan in Gotham...just one."Barbara took out the pamphlet of the circus she had taken. It was crumpled but still was clearly advertising the event. She pointed at the picture of the Flying Graysons. "This boy's parents died. He's clever and talented and doesn't deserve to get swallowed up by this horrible City. I want you to look after him. Would it hurt you to give him a home here? You have like...I dunno...fifty spare bedrooms? Well now you have fourty-nine."Tears splattered onto the pamphlet and she rapidly wiped her eyes again, furious at herself for crying like a child. |
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Post by Bruce Wayne - The Batman on Jul 25, 2015 0:23:21 GMT
So.. Barbara was here to find care for the Grayson boy.. now that was an interesting turn of events. Alfred and I had watched the events transpire, the camera didn't have the chance to cut to dead-air before the fall, we saw everything and it brought back a rash of memories. Needing to step away from the television at the time, I knew how the boy felt, I was there once.. but at a much younger age. It may sound bad but it was a lot easier for me to cope with the loss, for Ricky Grayson is was a task, he had his parents for 17 years, there was a bond between the trio that was unbreakable. While the same could probably be said about my parents and I.. but this just seemed different, and the girl had a point. Wayne Manor was originally pegged to be used as a home for the children when I left, but like anything else with the city and it's corrupt politicians, they refused to honor my wishes due to the costs or something of that nature, it'd be something I worked out when I got back.. and seeing how things were going into a downward spiral at the speed of light, that needed to be soon. Keeping my position between the walls, I peeked through a hole made near a vent- I saw the Gordon girl crying as apparently, she had some bond with Grayson.. she was looking out for his best interest, not something that was seen often in this day and age, especially at this age. With tears hitting the pamphlet, Alfred let off a deep sigh, I wanted to see how he'd try and handle this situation. Tending to an emotionally charged teenage girl was like navigating a mine-field, but he could do it.
"You know, there would be nothing more gratifying than taking in a boy who parallels Master Bruce in many ways.. but Miss Gordon, I am not the spring chicken I once was. Caring for another would take a toll on my mind and body, I am an old 80 years of age.. I don't have it in me to adequately give that boy the same kind of home that Master Bruce had."
Despite probably not what she wanted to hear- it was the sad truth. I had Alfred during the absolute prime of his life, from the time he was entering his 50s.. he was a jack of all trades. He was and still is a phenomenal cook, he made sure that I was always engaged in different activities and kept my mind and body sharp. Insisting I take an interest in boxing, chess and soccer, it was as if he knew he was going to be preparing me for the task I took on to defend Gotham as The Bat. While Alfred was a shell of what he once was, a fact he would point out himself.. maybe there was something I could do. Alfred may not be capable of caring for another, but.. maybe, it was time I gave back as both Bruce Wayne and as The Bat?
"Miss Gordon, if there was anything I could do, believe me- I would. I decided to watch the performance live on television and it's a decision I regret to this day, next to allowing Master Thomas, Missus Wayne and Master Bruce attend Gotham Theater that infamous evening. I could speak with a few close associates though, to ensure that Mister Grayson's time in Gotham until he enters adulthood at 18 is as smooth as possible? Despite being an old man that feels it in his bones, I still have a hefty address book full of influential allies whom could provide Mister Grayson with everything he needs.. I'm afraid that myself providing room, board and hot meals.. I.. can't bring myself to do that.. not anymore.."
He probably was clinging onto the thought of my 'death' to bring a tear to his eye.. it was what he did. During his time of working for the Royal Family, Alfred was an esteemed stage performer which allowed him to carry on his abilities to this day. Whether it be selling his 'hurt' personality, ot how he could drop tears and give heart-felt monologues at the drop of a hat, it was something he was very skilled at. I also knew that the 'powerful allies' he spoke of including myself and Lucius Fox- it was something we had talked about briefly after the tragedy but hadn't looked much into. As someone who loss their parents in a tragic matter, I could relate to the boy.. maybe it was the universe acting in a strange fashion- calling out to me to return the same great treatment Alfred showed me? I was thinking about it.. when Barbara left, Alfred and I would continue the conversation. Alfred though, moved his glasses off of the bridge of his nose and used the corner of his thumb to wipe the trail of tear away.. all as he let off an embarrassed sounded chuckle.
"Forgive me for my earlier tone. I did not intend to speak down to you, I don't get much guests these days. As it's said, life doesn't get easier as you age, especially when you begin to lose the ones you love at early ages. As much as I've tried to leave Gotham and return home, I can't bring myself to detach myself from the life I've created here.. no amount of crime, terrible service at grocer's shops or even the loss of the family I've loved the most aside of my own flesh and blood can drive me out of here.."
Alfred took another deep exhale, all as he looked at the portrait that Barbara had fixed her attention on.
"There's nothing better to deal with a hurt soul than a cup of fresh Green Tea with packets from Beijing. Would you care for one?"
The man knew me well- I wanted to get out of the walls and at least into the master's quarters upstairs, it was hot here. As I tried to leave the situation, knowing Alfred could handle it, I wanted to continue to watch as Barbara Gordon single-handedly restored my faith in their generation. All I've heard and seen was how they were slackers with egos, I didn't get that vibe from Barbara- nor did I pick it up from Ricky Grayson. Almost the same age, both seemed focused on achieving whatever they had their heart set on.. and for Barbara... it was ensuring that Ricky wouldn't be lost in the system for a year. Had it not been for Alfred becoming my guardian, I could of easily developed into an entirely different person.. and now, it was time that I helped give back.. I wasn't the fatherly type, but I knew I had advice I could give.. it'd be up to Ricky to see if it was something he'd be interested in. But as Alfred wiped another tear out of his eye, awaiting an answer from Barbara regarding a cup of Chinese Green Tea to elate the mood in Wayne Manor.. I was beginning to plan my return, Gotham City needed Bruce Wayne as much as it needed The Bat, this I was sure of.
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 25, 2015 8:28:28 GMT
Barbara listened to the Butler's excuses for not having Ricky live at Wayne Manor and nodded. She hadn't expected him to say yes and was surprised at herself for even asking. There was just something about the foreboding feeling of Wayne Manor that gave a strange sense of safety and security. The Butler went on to offer to keep a watchful eye over Ricky and to contact one of his 'allies'. It was a greater offer than Barbara had anticipated. She then saw the man wipe away a tear. Against Barbara's wishes, she felt her inner barricades slip and she felt a rush of emotion for this old man living alone in a huge Mansion. "Forgive me for my earlier tone. I did not intend to speak down to you, I don't get much guests these days. As it's said, life doesn't get easier as you age, especially when you begin to lose the ones you love at early ages. As much as I've tried to leave Gotham and return home, I can't bring myself to detach myself from the life I've created here.. no amount of crime, terrible service at grocer's shops or even the loss of the family I've loved the most aside of my own flesh and blood can drive me out of here.." Barbara hugged him tightly. She wasn't even aware that she had crossed the room but squeezed her arms around the man before her. He really was a good person and had clearly cared for the family he'd worked for. "There's nothing better to deal with a hurt soul than a cup of fresh Green Tea with packets from Beijing. Would you care for one?" Barbara let him go and took a step back, smiling. "I'd love one thanks. But then, I should probably go home. It is pretty late."The Butler gave a warm grin and extended his bent arm. Barbara took it and arms linked, they left the room and walked back down the Hall towards the kitchen. "I don't think I've even asked, what's your name."The old man smiled and looked down at Barbara as they walked. "My name is Alfred Pennyworth and it's a pleasure to meet you Miss Gordon." |
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