dear_mun | homeless, not looking. spoilers basically guaranteed in comments.

[One brand new GPD detective plus one Wayne Enterprises Executive? But he has no idea, honestly...because he was on his way somewhere and in a car and then yep that happened.]

...A city under siege?

[ Gives him an odd look. ]

Do you not remember, Detective? I don't see how you couldn't. It's been going on now for months.

...Last thing I've got in my timeline is moving to speak with the police commissioner about our training exercises.

[Delivered completely straight faced.]

...something I should know?

Timeline is an odd choice of word, Detective. But if you really don't remember, then yes, I suppose there is something you should know about your Gotham. It has been under siege for over two months. It's Bane, of course. [ A beat, and a smile. ] You have been of great help to me, now and again. I never did get a chance to thank you for it.

[This version of Blake, along this timeline may lack in tact but he's not stupid. Hearing that he instantly thinks This requires a Detective.

Except he's not a Detective, he's a stone's throw away from his promotion but she seems to think he's one so time to try to act like the older guys on the job.

Live up to the title. He straightens.]

...In this city under siege.

[ The corners of her mouth twitch up, slightly, at his somewhat self-conscious shift. ]

Yes. Your city. I would ask if you really think you have what it takes, but I've seen for myself the evidence. Perhaps I should leave the details unspoiled, however. I'm sure you can be heroic all on your own.

...But wait, you know-honestly. What harm would it do to give me a few hints? I mean-say when this is happening? And if it's Bane you know, how many guys he has with him. That kind of thing.

That would be telling, wouldn't it?

[ A bigger smile. ]

You'll see. Experience will show you more than I could.

...Someone once told me that experience is nothing without lessons because who will know what the experience is supposed to mean? Somebody might take the wrong thing from it.

[The writer remains firmly convinced that half of the gothams rogues gallery comes from Bane and Talia's locking cops in sewers and people in their homes. D:]

Does this make me your teacher? [ With some small amusement. ] There are things you can't learn from other people. There are things the world must teach you. I think you'll see those things in time.

You're so eager for spoilers, Detective Blake. This must be why they call you a hothead.

...I like to think everyone's my teacher ma'am. [long pause] the world's an awfully cruel teacher.

[eyebrow raise] I'm not a hothead. It's dedication.

[ ... the world is a cruel teacher, is it? She tilts her head, suddenly a little curious. She'd never bothered to attempt learning about his past. She wonders now what it might hold. ]

Cruel? You sound as if you speak from experience.

[ ... ah ha. A fleeting, broader smile, actually a tinge warm. ] Dedication. Another interesting choice of words. I've always seen you as somewhat impulsive, myself.

I earned everything that I have achieved and I stand by everything that I have achieved-but I earned it the old fashioned way.

[Let's be honest. That look on her face. he's not had a lot of experience with girls but he has to wonder.]

Impulsive? No. Just...willing to look at things from a different angle.

No one earns a title like hothead just by seeing things from a different view, Detective Blake. It requires action, too.

[ He should wonder. Miranda is a skilled, if subtle, flirt. ]

Not that impulsive actions are always a bad thing.

Someone's bossy.

Someone is responsible for a great many things. I can't simply abandon them on someone else's whim.

[ A beat. ]

You look familiar. I believe I heard about you some years ago. The clown, was it?

[He side-eyes her, chewing on the inside of his cheek at the same time. Gurl, you for real? Nah, you not for real. For real? Naw.]

Tell you what. You leave my city. Take aaaall your little [ahem] boogeymen and get outta dodge.

[He sucks on his teeth before smacking his lips and squinting.]

'Cause, Miss Tate; if that is your real name, without the Bat around... this clown's gonna get a whole lot funnier.

[ She watches him, only curiosity clear in her expression. A mad clown is no threat to the child of al Ghul. ]

Your city? I was not aware you could own it from prison. I don't plan on going anywhere. I've told you; my place is here. I believe you are the one who ought to stay out of the way.

[He huffs, his eyes rolling up toward the ceiling.]

You business types and your plans. You think you'd learn by now... they never work. Plans are too simple. You think and think and think but the moment some thug comes along and shoots a little old lady chaos throoowwws your plan out the window. Boom! Gone. [He leans forward, pointing at her with his palm facing upward,]chaos... chaos is the only plan a sane person, like me, can follow.

[ Lifts her eyebrows with exceptional mildness. ]

And how did that non-plan work out for you, precisely?

Oh, [smile] it's not over yet. That's the best thing about chaos. You never know when it'll come along. If you did... well it wouldn't be chaos.

Besides... got my own place. [Don't mind him while he giggles to himself. Being the lone inmate of Arkham is... FUN!]

So I've heard. I hope you enjoy it there. I can't imagine you'll see the outside for a long time.

Everybody's looking for a cheap thrill. Mundanes aren't excluded.

Is that what you call it? [ With something of a smile. ] You might be right. Though perhaps not about everybody. Our mundanes, though, certainly aren't exempt.

Let me guess: you'd like me to believe your tastes are a little more expensive.

My tastes have nothing to do with extravagance. [ With a blithe smile, though there is an undefinable edge to the words. ] My tastes have everything to do with protecting this world. If you would call that expensive, fine. But I would call it a cause worthy of expense.

What makes you think the world's worth protecting?

It is the only world we have. We don't get a second chance if we fail the first time.

[ Ever the high society environmentalist. ]

[ INTERNAL EYE ROLL ] You don't need to lecture me about second chances.

Don't I? [ A smile. ] I wasn't sure where you stood. Tell me something. Do you think this world is not worth saving?

I think some people aren't interested in other people's definition of being 'saved'.

In the end, we're all out for our ends. That's what I'll put my chips in believing.

How opportunistic of you. It must be nice to be responsible for no one but yourself.

Instead of deluding myself that I'm living for someone else just to make myself feel better?

Selflessness is just a fancy dressing for selfishness that lets you sleep better at night.

You think you know everything, don't you? You think you see to the heart of the world. And because you understand everyone is ultimately selfish, it's alright for you to be selfish, too. In fact, you become virtuous for it. For being so honest with yourself. [ Somewhat scathingly. ]

Whatever way you dress it, what I do is still for the betterment of this world. I seek to bring balance. You can mock my reasons, but I will still make this world better. I cannot say the same for you.

I worry about my own form of balancing the world. [ taking from those who have too much, for one. ] But I look at the world as a case by case scenario: it's when you start making broad sweeps that you end up doing more harm than good.

I am not one to fight a losing battle. [ With gentle, quiet derision. ] Believe what you wish. But when my mark on the world is made, you might wish you had changed your mind.

[ It is not a threat. She could well be saying, when I change the world for the better, you'll wish you had done the right thing.

In fact, that is what she's saying. But it doesn't mean what a good person might think it means. ]

{{OOC: Aurora is far too sweet and nice to be dealing with the likes of you, but mun's feeling like a bitch.}}

The speaker is an unassuming blonde girl that just screams "straight off a farm" and/or "college student activist"

"Gotham's under siege? Well, ma'am, I may not be rich or powerful, but I got two good hands and I know how to work a field hospital and garden."

Edited 2012-08-06 02:45 (UTC)

Gotham isn't your city, Talia. It has never been your city.

[ Opens her mouth to say his name, thinks better of it, and shuts it, instead. An uncharacteristic moment of being caught quite off guard.

There is a small shift. Barely perceptible unless you knew to look for it. But there is an arch to her brow, a coldness to her eye, that was not present a moment ago. ]

Why, Bruce. Whatever could you mean? That name is unfamiliar to me. [ A tight smile, tinged on the edges with an angry cruelty. She does not like being outmaneuvered. ]

Oh. [ he feigns surprise. he is surprised, granted, but this is clearly a mock-up of the emotion. there's a harshness to the way he mocks it, a sort of scorned chip on his shoulder to the way he gesticulates. first, his hand presses to his chest. ]

You didn't think I'd know. That this game was yours. [ he points at her with his forefinger, almost like he's wagging at her. ] I guess Ra's didn't manage to pass on everything before he passed. He'd have a contingency. [ it's scathing, but at the same time, there's a reverence that bruce would like to pretend wasn't in him still. ra's was his teacher, like a father to him, and he'd betrayed him. but that only made the sting worse, it didn't excise those emotions. ]

I don't want to hear you talk about my father. [ With sudden disgust, she stops trying to keep up the facade. This is not Miranda Tate, this is Talia al Ghul, and she is not pleased.

Of course, what the detective said occurs. Something about timelines. But this bodes ill. When Bruce was supposed to find out... no matter what, his discovery of that knowledge should have soon been followed by his death. By the deaths of a great many people. That he is mocking her for her name is foreboding indeed. It reeks of triumph. ]

I knew you wouldn't know, Bruce. You think you are so clever. You believed you'd truly bested the League of Shadows. You never knew just how much you had missed, how important that was. You were so easily seduced by the promise of sympathetic comfort. Pathetic. A shadow of what you should have been.

So, why don't you tell me. Are you here to gloat? To kill me? What do you want, Bruce?

I'm not interested in gloating and superiority, Talia. If I were, I might have stayed with the League. What I want is your contrition, because it may be the thing that saves your life. [ because he cares enough to want her to get out of that. because anyone can get out of the mess of a life they've built for themselves with the right tools, with the right help. because he can't help but try to reach out, if it hasn't happened for her yet. ]

Contrition? For trying to restore balance to this corrupted, broken world?

I meant those things, Bruce. Many of my efforts as an environmentalist were genuine. I want to make this world better. I know how to do that. So did my father. You cannot expect a cancer to heal itself. It must be removed. But you cling to your sentimentality. Your Gotham.

[ She approaches him, movements fluid and nonthreatening as possible. There is an exactingly fine, precise control to every last adjustment of her body. And she reaches up and places a gentle hand on his cheek. ]

We could have been something, you and I. Perhaps if you'd been better. Seen clearer. But you see nothing. You are blinded by the light. [ A smile, small, private. ] It sickens me.

A light you refuse to see. You're just like your father, refusing to rise out of those shadows and consider there might be another way. Annihilating an entire city doesn't make you the world's saviors, it makes you an integral part of the problem.

You are one to talk about refusing to rise out of the shadows. [ Her fingers curl against his face. ] I know I can't convince you, Bruce. That is why I tried to kill you. And yet you keep returning. It's almost admirable.

[ Her eyes flicker to her own fingers against his skin, as if she's considering doing something more with those perfectly manicured nails of hers. In the end, she simply slips away from him. ]

I am doing what is right. You and I will never agree on that. So, here we are. I am going to ask you for the last time: will you kill me?

I'm not an executioner.

Then you are free to leave.

homeless, not looking. spoilers basically guaranteed in comments.

Mid-Movie.

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