horrendousness

[onapalehorse]

From this.

"You will find strength, and peace."

He promises, with belief.

Comments

[lasiurus]

He quiets at that, and doesn't argue.

"We can talk."

[onapalehorse]

"Alfred Pennyworth. Old man, young?"

Cocking his head.

[lasiurus]

"Old. Same age as Fox."

Which doesn't improve Alfred's chances of survival out there.

"He...he raised me."

[onapalehorse]

"After your parents died."

He's always seemed to know snippets of Bruce's life, but this is the first outright admission of it.

[lasiurus]

He looks up to meet Bane's eyes, then nods, looks away again. These little insights Bane has shouldn't unsettle him; Bruce was one of the most famous men in the world once upon a time. But hearing them from someone who seems to be completely removed from that world...it is unsettling.

"Where are you from?"

[onapalehorse]

"The trade, overseas. One of the markets in the southeast."

He confesses, seeming unperturbed by the question.

"Where we know how to live with what rattles you so badly."

[lasiurus]

"You shouldn't have to live with it either."

He sits back, resting on one hand.

"And I've been through the Asian markets before. This is...different."

[onapalehorse]

"Growing pains."

He advises, quietly.

"The demise of a culture built on decadence, premised on exploiting and coddling the weak. The beginning of a new world of chaos. The markets as they are now will change again soon; the fat at the top will find themselves toppled."

[lasiurus]

"Your world order doesn't have much room for compassion."

He's steely, Batman again, even if he's making no move to be violent.

"What you suggest would have us rolling in the mud like animals, always fighting to destroy anyone who rises out of it."

[onapalehorse]

"It's even in your metaphors. You fear mud. Mud, the cleanest thing imaginable, the ground itself and the world outside are alien, evil- do you wish to go back to living in a locked room? Or would you do just about anything for a bit of mud between your toes right now?"

Amused, eyes lighting up with a little warmth.

[lasiurus]

His mouth tightens. Touche.

"That's not the point. We evolved into creatures capable of compassion, and hope, and societies are meant to safeguard its weakest members."

Admittedly that isn't how it usually goes, but Bruce has spent far too long fighting for justice to just throw up his hands.

[onapalehorse]

"True. And this world will grow, again, into one where we are capable of knowing compassion, but as it was the weak were failed every day, in every way imaginable."

He points out.

"You, being who you were, should know this better than anyone. You put on your costume and plucked- admirably- at the worst of the sin and greed, but never really scratched the surface."

[lasiurus]

"Things were getting better."

But how helpless and small he felt most days. Even when the streets were being cleaned up by the real law enforcement; even when the Joker was locked away forever.

"The aliens made it worse; why do you defend what they caused? Slavery for everyone is better than slavery for some?"

[onapalehorse]

"The aliens will be gone soon. They have almost been beaten back from this world entirely."

He explains.

"But the skeleton they left will be forever changed."

[lasiurus]

"And some change is good. We've needed it. But you speak of chaos like it's something to wait for. It's here, and it's evil."

He glances at the heavy bag hanging near the corner, and thinks of that brief meeting with Captain America. Steve. He's probably dead; he was there on the first day when everything went to hell.

Bruce looks back at Bane, calm, resolved. He was never Captain America, or even Iron Man. Batman was a symbol.

"And I won't be the only one who thinks so."

[onapalehorse]

"Perhaps when your compatriots rise to reshape things into their order, I will send you back to them, their lost lamb."

He admits, tilting his head.

"But in the mean time, I mean to have you."

[lasiurus]

"My compatriots are dead."

Which is his soft, roundabout way of telling Bane not to talk about them. Ever.

"When are you going to let me out on the grass?"

[onapalehorse]

"Soon. Though you may come to wish I had not, when I finally do."

He admits, head tilting slowly to the side, gaze frankly assessing.

[lasiurus]

"Why? What's wrong with the grass?"

It's such a frank, naive question. Sure, there were rumours of nuclear fallout, and he's met the Hulk and seen how things react to that. But still, it's the sort of thing he would have said to Alfred.

He'll regret it tomorrow.

[onapalehorse]

Bane actually laughs, astonished and almost almost kind.

"You'd be cuffed to me. You're a fast little thing."

[lasiurus]

"I think you could catch me."

He's done underestimating Bane. He's also aching to be outside. He can't remember what fresh air is like.

"I'll wear any cuffs you want."

[onapalehorse]

"Tomorrow."

He promises.

"I'll come fetch you for the dawn."

It'll be a good transition to help ease him through the hatred that recovery will bring.

[lasiurus]

He nods, unwilling to display any disappointment or worry that 'dawn' might be 'never'.

"I need something to keep me busy. Exercise, metal working. I don't sleep well."

[onapalehorse]

"Would you like access to the library?"

He proposes.

"After a little physical training. A friendly spar."

[lasiurus]

"Yeah."

He smiles faintly and stands. In all likelihood this will hurt. Certainly it will hurt him more than it will Bane, but he rarely got to practice in the last home.