[CENTER][IMG]https://i.imgur.com/0xjS780.png[/IMG][/CENTER]

[B]Gotham City, Wayne Tower
Penthouse Suite
2:35 PM[/B]

[color=7ea7d8][i]"And that concludes the weather. Do remember to keep your umbrellas prepared, because this weekend looks as though it'll be a rough one for commuters. But proceeding to our top story for the day, Gotham Now goes live to senior correspondent Vesper Fairchild, who is on the scene of an event that has been trending amongst Gothamites for weeks. Vesper?"[/i][/color]

[color=f6989d][i]"Thank you, Adam. As you can see from the line that stretches alongside the three mile entrance, Gotham Now is coming to you live from the seventh annual Starling Fashion Show! Hosted this year by heiress to the Corvidae Jewelers empire, Margaret Pye, the public are practically sprinting to get what is to be the first glimpse at world renowned fashion mogul Paul Dekker's [b]Faux Cou Noir[/b] luxury line, said by industry insiders to be the hottest attraction of the Fall season."[/i][/color]

The live feed of Vesper Fairchild is replaced with archival footage of the aging Paul Dekker, adorned in his trademark multi-color "patchwork" suit and ruby glasses. He can be seen shaking hands and posing for pictures with celebrities, politicians, and world leaders at various points throughout a career spanning six decades.

[color=f6989d][i]"While Dekker has been frequently cited as a 'crazed genius of couture' in recent years, the in-demand designer's appearance today in Gotham is indeed a rare treat, as the Paris-born revolutionary of the fashion world was thought to be living out his final days in seclusion. But with a newly announced premium line of dresses that promise to be as spellbinding as they are provocative, Gothamites from all walks of life are about to get a firsthand look at what promises to be Dekker's final, and perhaps most everlasting mark as an icon of the industry. Attendees are already looking to be in the thousands, and with less than an hour before the show starts, that number may soar even---"[/i][/color]

[b][color=Gray]"Off."[/color][/b]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/whRQK6R.png[/IMG]

Even after the television cuts to black, I can't help but stare at the reflection looking back from the screen. While all of that nonsense went completely over my head and only filled me with a sense of impending doom, knowing that I was about to enter that world firsthand, what disturbs me more is just how well Alfred did a job of making me look the part of someone with a vested interest. The luxury suit that he had imported from Italy, tailored to my exact measurements, the makeup job that was used to hide my still-healing injuries from last week's battle with a mind-controlled metahuman and the GCPD, even in the distinct way that my hair is parted. It all seems so absurdly contradictory to who I am. I feel like I was being just as prepped to go on that stage as any of the models forced to pose in what is likely to be an overpriced series of garments. And to add to it all, this damned tie is choking the life out of me. 

Still, as Alfred has repeatedly reminded me through my many attempts to avoid this, it's a favor that I can't turn down. In an effort to raise my public profile and potentially grant me some minimal leeway with the board of directors at Waynetech to stop their appointment of Roman Sionis as CEO, given that they think me to be just as much of a recluse as that Dekker individual, I also agreed to this farce to show my appreciation towards the surgical efforts made to save my life by the head trauma specialist at Elliot Memorial, Thomas Elliot. So I'm at a loss for any suitable excuses. Ever the glory-hound, Elliot's practically called the Tower every hour since the early morning to ensure that I don't back out of an appearance I half-heartedly promised to make in order to impress his rich friends with a gracious meet-and-greet with Gotham's favorite son. 

Or whatever the hell that they're calling me these days. But regardless of my thoughts on the matter, which vary from complete disinterest to borderline aggression for the senseless hoops I'm being made to jump through for this, I don't just have to make an appearance. I [i]need[/i] to in order to make it seem as though Bruce Wayne at least has some tangential common interest with the city's elite. Selina Kyle is always pushing me to take up golf, or rugby. Attending something like this seems as though it is a suitable compromise. As it stands, I find all of her and Elliot's friends to be insufferable. And worse, perfectly willing to look the other way while the Five Families active tear Gotham apart, convinced that they're protected from the view of their ivory towers. 

Though admittedly, it's hard to say much about that when I'm standing [i]in[/i] one of those ivory towers. As I try in vain to loosen the tie, just enough to feel as though I'm not losing oxygen, I turn around to my office desk and carefully open the awaiting glass bottle of a vintage 1939 Scotch. An exceptionally rare brand, and what was once my father's alcohol of choice. I never had much of a taste for it myself, but catching a glimpse of just what I'm in for immediately makes me realize why he felt the need to drink after making these sorts of appearances. Before today, I had considered just shipping this bottle off to Tony Stark as a peace offering, given that our respective companies have been at eachother's throats in the arms race for decades. And it doesn't hurt that if I offered him half of the shares of his most direct competitor, Stark might be one of the only men in the world able to pool his resources together with mine to outright buy Waynetech at a several billion dollar price. 

But recently, he's been rumored to be pushing clean energy and isn't even interested in furthering his military contracts. The window of time has already passed. So I pour myself the glass instead, mix the ice in a slow circular motion to allow it to properly cure, and down the contents in one slow intake. Instantly, I wince. It burns at my throat and the sensation continues into my chest. It's what I imagine motor oil mixed with paint thinner would taste like. And yet I'd gladly expose myself to this unpleasantness a thousand more times before even normally considering how I'm about to spend my evening. As I pour myself another glass for good measure, Alfred finally walks through the double doors in order to presumably tell me that he's got the limousine prepared. He nods towards the Scotch, apparently having seen this scene before - many years prior and with a different member of the Wayne family. 

[color=8882be]"Ah. I see that you've [i]already[/i] heard the news, then."[/color]

[b][color=Gray]"Heard it? It's all over every local channel."[/color][/b], I respond, not even attempting to hide my disgust. [b][color=Gray]"Really, Alfred, a [i]fashion[/i] show? And in the middle of Dini Plaza. It feels insulting. There was a time when people used to go there for groundbreaking business pursuits. Deals that [i]three[/i] generations of my family were apart of would be broken in that area that would impact the future of Gotham. This? It just feels like a circus. A circus devoid of any of the entertainment value..."[/color][/b]

Alfred's reaction isn't one that I expect. His face reads of worry. A surprising amount, given his usual wry disposition. 

[color=8882be]"Oh. My word, then you haven't heard at all. Well, one hates to be the bearer of bad news, lad, but I wasn't referring to Mr. Dekker's fashion outing at all."[/color]

Putting the glass down just as I'm about to raise it to my lips, I look back at Alfred with confusion.

Did he just say [i]bad[/i] news?

[color=8882be]"It's Miss Kane. I'm afraid that she was just arrested right in the middle of class. She's sitting in a holding cell at Gotham Central, and the charge is remarkably serious."[/color]

Raising both eyebrows, I take a step forward and begin to walk ahead - until my pace eventually builds into a run, until I've made my way [i]past[/i] Alfred and into the hallway leading to the elevator. In a bid to try and explain what charges Kate's been indicted on, I realize that I'm not paying attention to whatever Alfred's saying by the time that the elevator doors close to take me down to the garage. He'll probably be worried that I won't make the fashion engagement after all, but at the moment, I could care even less than I did before.

If Kate's in this severe kind of trouble, I had better get down the precinct to sort things out before her father catches wind of it. My uncle Jacob has been said to be many things over the span of his military career. A tactical genius, a cut-throat war veteran, and a genuine hero. But rational and forgiving? Both concepts have always ranked too low on his list of priorities, for my liking - particularly when it comes to his only living daughter. Kate and I may not have much of a relationship yet, due to my nightly commitments... but she's family. And the closest family that I still have, given what remains of the Wayne, Kane, and Arkham bloodlines.

Reaching into my front pocket, I remove my cellphone and dial a familiar number. Even though I've hated to use this as a crutch, it looks like I'll be needing her to get me out of yet another social predicament. And knowing her, she's sure to cash this in for me to buy her a yacht, or something equally as extravagant. That thought and the likelihood of it being true genuinely horrifies me, but what other choice do I have? 

[b][color=Gray]"Selina? It's Bruce. I don't have alot of time, but an emergency just came up and I'm going to need another favor."[/color][/b]

I pause before saying the next few words. She may be a social butterfly, but even something like this is pushing it. It's a step below everything she usually makes it a point to attend, which I didn't even think was possible. But she's my only out if I'm to balance attending to Kate and still making the show. 

[b][color=Gray]"Do you happen to have any vested interest in 'Faux Cou Noir'?"[/color][/b]

[B]Gotham Central Precinct
Front Entrance
2:50 PM[/B]

[b][color=Gray]"Where to even start with this?"[/color][/b]

I place my arms infront of my chest, staring down my cousin as she's released on the sizeable bail bond that I just paid. In contrast to her generally dour outlook on everything, even going as far as to have been in the midst of a Goth phase whenever I first met her upon returning to Gotham, Kate's expression seems to be one of genuine shock. Not because she doesn't know what she did to be arrested, but because she likely didn't think it would ever go this far. I give her a disapproving glance as I open the door to my Lamborghini. She gives me a look back, halfway apologetic and partially disgusted, given my choice of vehicle. 

Despite spending many weekends at the Tower to escape her father, she's made it no secret that she's never been comfortable with my wealth. Which is precisely why I chose the car in the first place over something alot more subtle. It's just the first of a series of punishments that I have in store, [i]if[/i] I can safely get her across town without a military coup on the orders of my uncle Jake. Wordlessly, she assumes her place in the passenger seat as I assume mine behind the wheel. We both shut our respective doors at the same time and buckle in. 

As I begin to back out of the parking space, I give her a side-eye and she looks away. I have to do my best to keep in mind that she's still only seventeen years old, and not to take any of this personally. Should the Dean at Brentwood Academy be willing to overlook this - which is [i]highly[/i] doubtful - she may even graduate by the summer. But it's difficult not to be angry, given what the hell she just pulled. 

[b][color=d66161]"Look, I... I know I fucked up, but..."[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"You pulled a knife on a student and threatened to, what was it again? Ah, yes. Give her a glasgow smile."[/color][/b], I bitterly point out. [b][color=Gray]"I'd say that you're underselling it, all things considered."[/color][/b]

Immediately, she turns to me with seething rage. 

[b][color=d66161]"You don't know the whole story!"[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"I don't have to!"[/color][/b], I fire back. [b][color=Gray]"You were the one that brought a weapon to school. You were the one that was caught threatening the girl. You're the reason the Dean had to call the police. You didn't just mess up, Kate. You may have ruined any number of chances that were coming your way. You had a [i]future[/i] to look forward to. Now, your only immediate prospect is looking at a potential prison stint."[/color][/b]

She crosses her arms and stares out the window as we peel into traffic. 

[b][color=d66161]"Oh, sure. Like I had any chances..."[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"Just tell me this. Okay? Just tell me what the hell could've possibly been going through your mind whenever you did this. Because if I have to explain this to the Colonel without hearing your side of it, he's going to want to interrogate you himself. And we [i]both[/i] know you'd rather be telling me than him."[/color][/b]

Tears come streaming down her face as she angrily looks forward.

[b][color=d66161]"It's complicated."[/color][/b]

I slam the brakes as hard as possible, causing her to jump. My hands remain firmly on the wheel. 

[b][color=d66161]"Jesus Christ, Bruce! Are you out of your mind?!"[/color][/b]

Leaning against the wheel as a number of cars begin to honk their horns behind us, I leisurely look towards her with a raised eyebrow. 

[b][color=Gray]"It's your choice. Either you tell me the truth, or we remain here and piss off every motorist behind us for the next ten blocks. And I think they're liable to upend the car if I don't get moving, so you'd better talk fast."[/color][/b]

She stares at me, shocked, but this is honestly nothing new for me. If anything, I'm utilizing a very unorthodox version of my training as Batman to initiate a confession - in the least threatening way imaginable, of course, but I suspect that it'll get the job done. Looking out the rearview window, I notice a few pedestrians starting to get out of their cars to visibly complain, shouting obscenities and giving me a number of angered, crude gestures. I honk the horn in response, making it clear that I don't intend to budge. 

Kate looks back at them, worriedly. 

[b][color=d66161]"Oh my god. You're not actually doing this."[/color][/b]

I shrug, looking ahead.

[b][color=Gray]"They look angry. Be a shame if they started trashing the car. That's thirty-eight million that I can't easily pay off..."[/color][/b]

She looks back at me, then back at them, the pressure of the situation building. She tries to speak, but hesitates. Something's holding her back, and it's alot more than some generalized teen angst at work. She legitimately doesn't want to say the words.

[b][color=d66161]"She called me a stupid queer! Okay?!"[/color][/b], she yells, the tears coming even harder. [b][color=d66161]"The bitch called me a stupid queer..."[/color][/b]

My eyes slightly widen, hearing the rather unexpected answer. The tension is broken by the oncoming drivers who're looking to get in my face over this. True to my promise to Kate, I immediately shift from park to second gear and take off for the freeway, speeding past a red light in the process but ultimately doing no further damage. 

For the first few minutes, I don't... exactly know what to say to her. Teenagers can be cruel, of course, and I have distinct memories of being targeted for my own background by a few bullies just a few years after my parents were murdered. So it's not as if it's something I don't understand.

What completely catches me off guard is just how strongly she reacted to such an insult. 

Almost as if....

[b][color=Gray]"And you didn't like that."[/color][/b], I reply, realizing it for the first time. [b][color=Gray]"Because you're gay."[/color][/b]

She places her head in both hands, holding back any outright sobbing. Clearly, she's mortified. But I'm not sure if it's due to the fact that it escalated to this incident, or the mere fact that she had to have me say it for her. Eventually, she loses all composure and breaks down.

[b][color=d66161]"I didn't mean to do it. I didn't. She just... wouldn't stop. Every day, she'd push me and [i]push[/i] me and threaten to tell everyone else. I wasn't ready for that. I just... I didn't know what to do. I tried being nice about it. I tried ignoring her. But she wouldn't stop. She just... [i]hates[/i] me. Just because I'm different."[/color][/b]

My anger subsides as I hear her genuine plight. The pain that she must have endured, carrying around such a secret. Knowing that someone else knew about it and was willing to expose her. Made to feel like an outcast for no good reason. 

Looking in the rear-view mirror again, I catch a glimpse of myself and have to be reminded that there's always heavy burden with keeping your true self hidden. With me, granted, it's a bit of a different situation. But this...

[b][color=Gray]"Does your father know?"[/color][/b]

Immediately, she looks up and panics again.

[b][color=d66161]"No! Oh my god, no. Please, Bruce, I can't let him know about this. Not now. Especially not now. Promise me you won't tell him. Oh, god, Bruce, please promise me you won't!"[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"Kate."[/color][/b]

I look over at her and raise a hand, indicating that she has nothing to worry about.

[b][color=Gray]"This stays between us. What you did aside, I have absolutely no right to violate your personal privacy. If the Colonel ever learns of this, it won't be from me. You have my word."[/color][/b]

Kate looks at me, and subsequently sighs, wiping the tears from her face. I know the look. She's wondering if I'm to be trusted. Perhaps, given what little history we share as family, wondering if she has any choice [i]but[/i] to trust me with this until she can be certain that I'm a man of my word. 

Which isn't fair to put on her, but is something that I suppose is unavoidable. The time that I've devoted to my crusade has made me distant, which is now more clear than ever, but given this revelation... I think that it's time for that to change. 

[b][color=Gray]"What did you mean when you said 'especially not now'?"[/color][/b], I ask after a few moments. [b][color=Gray]"You made that sound so specific. Is everything alright at home?"[/color][/b]

She looks off again. I'm not going to push her on this, even though we're certainly [i]not[/i] done with the discussion about her bringing a knife to school and threatening this girl. Whatever her reasonings and the pressure she's been under, it doesn't justify threatening another classmate in such a vicious way. 

Of course, there's an irony in all of this. It isn't lost on me that this is coming from the man that, just one week prior, bashed the back of a Police Captain's skull against the pavement and sent half of a SWAT unit into the ICU. But Kate isn't me, and she isn't out to do something for the right reasons. She was just pushed too far.

[b][color=Gray]"Okay. You don't have to tell me that. But I'll make you a deal,"[/color][/b], I elaborate. [b][color=Gray]"If you promise to never do anything even [i]remotely[/i] like this again, I'll see what I can do about getting this girl transferred to another school."[/color][/b]

Kate's eyes widen as she looks back at me, shocked.

[b][color=d66161]"N-No way. You can't do that."[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"One phone call with the Dean and the promise of a donation to the Academy's next school function, and I can pretty much do whatever you want. Provided that this is a road you want to go."[/color][/b]

She looks down, mulling it over. Legitimately wondering if I could pull it off.

[b][color=d66161]"No."[/color][/b]

I look back over, an eyebrow raised.

[b][color=d66161]"I don't want you to do that. I've done enough damage. I don't need to seek any further retribution ontop of the message I sent."[/color][/b]

Admittedly, I'm surprised by her response to that offer. But I can't say that it isn't a mature decision on her part. It would've been very easy to be vindictive after suffering the verbal and mental abuse that she claims.

[b][color=d66161]"Actually, um... could you maybe make it so that her family's better off?"[/color][/b]

I look forward, genuinely astonished. 

And the surprises keep coming.

[b][color=d66161]"She's, uh, well. She's kinda mentioned it before to some of our mutual friends, but her dad got laid off a few months ago and hasn't been able to get a job since. That was around the time that she started taking it out on me, when she found out I was... what I am. I just don't want her to have to deal with that anymore, especially if it'll get her to lay off."[/color][/b]

I don't show it, since I don't want to let her off for what happened [i]too[/i] easily, but there's an immediate sense of pride that I feel in hearing that. It's far from the reaction I expected, but it's a such level-headed response to such a painful predicament that I don't think even I would've been able even [i]consider[/i] that approach whenever I was her age.

Then the moment passes, and I realize something. 

[b][color=Gray]"Wait."[/color][/b], I respond. [b][color=Gray]"If this is what you really want, why didn't you just come to me about this in the [i]first[/i] place? This is obviously something you've thought about before, so why the escalation?"[/color][/b]

Kate buries her head back into the seat. 

[b][color=d66161]"I don't know how else to say this, Bruce, but... I've tried. Many times before. Infact, I was willing to come out to you first because I figured that since you didn't know anyone at my school, and because you like my dad about as much as I do, you wouldn't have anyone to tell. But you're always so busy, and..."[/color][/b]

Damn it. 

I'd question the validity of that excuse if it weren't entirely true. From the three days that I was out of action due to Ivy's toxin to my recent hospital stay, I can't help but feel guilty about the fact that Kate had nowhere else to turn to. Despite the fact that my efforts have been legitimately being put to use in order to save lives, I do have other responsibilities to the people I care for. Many of which I've been severely neglecting ever since I returned to Gotham. And now I'm seeing the fallout.

[b][color=d66161]"Plus, you kinda got busted on a DUI last week. So, I didn't know how to... y'know. Approach you with that."[/color][/b]

I sigh to myself. 

[b][color=Gray]"That's because you're not the [i]only[/i] one in the family whose made mistakes."[/color][/b]

[b][color=d66161]"Dad says that you're a bad influence, and I didn't really believe him. But with that, I just... I don't know. It seemed like a real eye-opener."[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"I don't blame you for thinking that."[/color][/b], I reply. [b][color=Gray]"And you're right. I have been unavailable. To you and to several other people that need my attention, and none of it is fair. But especially to you, Kate. I know we don't know eachother very well, but I do want to be there for you. Especially if you're going to be staying at the Tower, and especially now. I know it doesn't seem like it, but family is something that I hold above all else."[/color][/b]

She seems to pay attention to those words. As if she's really listening for the first time in this conversation. 

[b][color=d66161]"Aunt Martha."[/color][/b], she eventually says. [b][color=d66161]"She died before I could ever know her. She meant alot to you, didn't she?"[/color][/b]

I stare off as things go momentarily silent once again.

[b][color=Gray]"More than you could ever know."[/color][/b]

Her tone turns somber. 

[b][color=d66161]"I know something about watching your mother die infront of you. And your sister..."[/color][/b]

My hand grips the wheel even tighter. I've kept this vow a secret since I was eight, but whenever my parents were taken from me, I swore that I would never allow another child to experience the pain that I did that night in the alley. Whenever Kate lost her mother and sister, my aunt and younger cousin, I was abroad and training in Nepal. Had I been aware of the plot to kidnap them for ransom, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I could've done something to prevent what happened. Because ironically, I failed that promise to a child who didn't even share a separate bloodline. 

[b][color=Gray]"That family you mentioned. What are their names?"[/color][/b]

[b][color=d66161]"Radcliffe, I think. The girl I threatened was named Charlotte. I, um, I think they live in The Narrows, somewhere. I don't know if she has any brothers or sisters, but..."[/color][/b]

[b][color=Gray]"I'll make the arrangements. Waynetech has a few openings that I may be able to offer them, even if I'm not technically running the company yet."[/color][/b]

She takes a long, drawn-out breath of relief.

[b][color=d66161]"Thank you. Thank you so much. I owe you for this, big time."[/color][/b]

My relatively reserved expression turns into a more serious glare.

[b][color=Gray]"Yes, you do. And just so you know, you're not off the hook for this. I want to make perfectly clear. There are going to be some rules that Alfred and I are going to have to implement if you continue to stay at the Tower. And for awhile, they're going to have to be strict."[/color][/b]

Despite looking a little less than pleased with that information, she eventually nods, just as I pull up to the curb that leads into the public front entrance to Wayne Tower. Alfred is already standing outside, waiting to take her inside with his passcode for the private elevator. Alfred's always been hands-off when he knows that the situation calls for it, so I don't expect him to give her any unnecessary grief. 

But I will feel better knowing that he's keeping an eye on her while I attend to some - well, rather unpleasant business. Especially in a time where Kate is the most emotionally vulnerable to her more base impulses. Had I not chosen to bail her out, she'd be spending the night behind bars. I imagine that the fright of that possibility alone will keep her from trying anything that worsens the situation. 

And mercifully, I'm listed as her emergency contact with Brentwood. So if Uncle Jake [i]does[/i] know anything about this, he sure as hell hasn't shown his hand. Reaching over and opening the door for Kate, she looks back at me, quizzically.

[b][color=d66161]"You're not coming?"[/color][/b]

Apologetically, I look her directly in the eyes.

[b][color=Gray]"Believe me, there is nothing more I'd like to do than avoid leaving. Especially for this. But I made a promise to someone that I can't break. If it weren't related to business, we would already be on the way up."[/color][/b]

I know how it sounds, and her disappointed expression all-but-confirms it. But I can't keep Selina waiting at the fashion show, otherwise I'll catch enough hell to last me a lifetime. Placing a hand on her shoulder, however, I give her a reassuring smile. 

[b][color=Gray]"We'll talk the minute that I get back. I swear to you, Kate. And whatever you want to tell me, I'll be there to listen. You don't have to hide who you are from me."[/color][/b]

For the first time since I've known her, I think, part of a smile starts to form over Kate's lips. She wipes the residual tears from her face and leans forward, doing something I expect even less - she embraces me, as tightly as she possibly can. At first, I'm not sure of what to do. But I eventually place a hand on her back and hope that it makes up for my lack of experience in the department of displaying familial affection. Satisfied, she wordlessly gets out of the car and makes her way to Alfred, who offers her a friendly hand across her shoulders. 

It's been... too long since I've had legitimate family to worry about. Even longer since I've had any to feel pride in knowing. But despite everything she just did, I have a feeling that Kate is only on a road ahead that can lead to better things than this. What she did today isn't going to define her future. I won't let it, even if she allows herself to fall back into such behavioral patterns.

Letting out my own sigh of relief, I reluctantly shift gears once again and begin to make my drive towards the Stadium. I've already experienced enough drama one for day, and this isn't likely to help my mood. The only thing that I can count on is that however bad that I think it's going to be, it can't possibly get any worse.

[b][color=Gray]"Teenagers..."[/color][/b]

[B]Gotham City, Snyder Stadium
Starling Fashion Show
3:35 PM[/B]

[b][color=8a6840]"Good God, Selina. Is he usually this late?"[/color][/b]

Dr. Thomas Elliot lifted his watch up to re-affirm the time. It was close to curtain call for the show to begin, and there had been no sign of Bruce Wayne in the last hour since Elliot had arrived. Selina Kyle smirked to herself, wondering how long any of these rich men would last in the [i]real[/i] world if such trivial matters could get under their skin so quickly. Looking out towards the crowd, Selina spotted several of her father's own business associates among the massive crowd surrounding the massive, neon-tinged stage. Thank heavens, she sarcastically thought to herself. If one of these oh, so [i]highly[/i] intimidating sickly looking rail-thin women actually lunged out and attacked the crowd in the middle of their catwalk turn, there'd be at least five mobsters in the room capable of whacking them. 

[b][color=a187be]"Tommy, dear, I adore Bruce. He's one of a kind in a sea of dimwits with money. But I still wouldn't count on the man to arrive on time for his own funeral. So all that I can assure you is that he'll arrive fashionably late. But he'll still be fashionable."[/color][/b]

Thomas raised an eyebrow as Selina smiled, mischievously. Doctor Elliot was a well-respected surgeon known far beyond his native city of Gotham, and was constantly on call and at the request of several high-profile celebrity clients. Yet he still managed to find time to be able to clear his schedule on occasion. But Bruce Wayne, as he understood it, didn't even have a real job. His family's company was being taken over by an associate of Miss Kyle's father, and the billionaire seemed disinterested in taking up a trade that was all his own. 

To Elliot, it seemed like a waste of the well-respected Wayne dynasty. His own late father had known Thomas Wayne personally and considered him one of the greatest to ever live, and Tommy had personally grown up idolizing the work of Bruce's mother at Arkham Asylum before her untimely demise. Had his own domineering mother not driven Elliot to pursue medicine as a practice, he would have loved to pursue psychology as a major. 

As much as he hesitated to say it, were he in Bruce Wayne's place, Elliot felt as though he could do so many greater things with the opportunities that being apart of Gotham's first family presented for one's career. Despite it being a considerably dark impulse, Thomas even considered having to save Wayne's life after being in a horrific car accident the very week before to be a waste. In what world would such an aimless man, lacking of any ambition, be of any value to society? 

[b][color=8a6840]"If you say so."[/color][/b], Elliot finally replied. [b][color=8a6840]"I just hope that your billionaire boyfriend is everything the press says he is, because I've been dying to pick his brain ever since I had to discharge him from the hospital. He comes from such an impressive lenieage. It'd be a shame to know that Thomas and Martha's little prodigy weren't living up."[/color][/b]

Selina paused, hearing the 'boyfriend' line. 

[b][color=a187be]"First of all, he's not..."[/color][/b]

She paused again, realizing how defensive the next few words would sound.

[b][color=a187be]"That is to say, we're not involved. He's far too busy counting his coins and playing golf, or whatever [i]boring[/i] pursuits that these rich people cling to in order to fill up their free time, to ever consider the possibility of a real commitment. Not to say that I'd ever be interested in the first place."[/color][/b]

Elliot smirked to himself, watching Selina's practiced disgust. Clearly, this isn't the first time the subject has come up.

[b][color=8a6840]"Uh-huh."[/color][/b]

[b][color=a187be]"Don't you dare even give me that look, Elliot."[/color][/b], Selina replied, her eyes shooting daggers. [b][color=a187be]"And secondly, I think his parents' perspective on how he's gotten to where he is is a bit irrelevant, given that they've been [i]corpses[/i] for the last twenty years. Everyone gets so hung-up on how important they were, and I've never understood the admiration. One was rich, the other treated the insane. And then they were shot, the end. I'm sure even Bruce would've gotten over it by now if people didn't constantly shove how great they were into his face."[/color][/b]

[b][color=8a6840]"Point taken, Miss Kyle. You can sheathe the claws."[/color][/b], Elliot responded with a laugh. [b][color=8a6840]"Tell me, does he usually get you this unwound?"[/color][/b]

Selina began to rub the bridge of her nose.

[b][color=a187be]"Oh, it's not even him. I just hate coming to these things. It seems like such a waste of..."[/color][/b]

Suddenly, she looked up, realizing something. 

[b][color=a187be]"Hey, did someone just crank up the A/C?"[/color][/b], she asked, covering her arms. [b][color=a187be]"Because it just got a hell of alot colder in here..."[/color][/b]

Elliot noticed it too, and was visibly shocked as he watched his own breath rendered visible. 

[b][color=8a6840]"That's... odd. The room's refrigerated. And it can't be coming from outside, since it's the middle of August. So temperatures like this shouldn't be here for another..."[/color][/b]

Without warning, the stage exploded into a series of large, sharp and penetrating icicles that seemed to appear out of nowhere, lining the stage and destroying the inner-wiring to the point of sending sparks off to the screaming audience. As people took cover, the entire stage seemed to become encased in a thick sheen of ice. 

Selina and Dr. Elliot watched in horror as scaffolding from the ceiling began to freeze aswell, and the wires turned brittle, eventually shattering and falling towards the panicked crowd. Elliot grabbed Selina and pushed her out of the way of some of the debris, getting struck by a large piece of frozen metal himself and being sent flying backwards.

Before anyone could realize what was happening, another explosion rang out across the Stadium. This time from the backstage area, creating a massive hole between the audience and the hidden portion of the stage, causing half-dressed models, stylists, and makeup artists to flee in terror as an unknown assailant followed them. But unlike them, he remained atop the stage, and produced a massive, glowing cannon that seemed to be attached to a bizarre suit. The man's face was obscured by a giant dome, and nothing seemed to indicate who he was beyond a pair of piercing red dots for eyes staring out at the crowd.

His voice, however, was just as chilled as anything in the room.

[color=6ecff6][b]"I am going to ask this only once, and failure to produce an answer will result in the deaths of everyone in this room. Where is Nora Fries?"[/b][/color]

[IMG]https://i.imgur.com/3UEJGmT.png[/IMG]

[b][color=6ecff6]"Where is my wife?"[/color][/b]