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bruce wayne

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▶ WHO: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent
▶ DATE: 7-28 (I think?)
▶ WARNINGS: Only if you need warned for excessive snark.
▶ SUMMARY: Superman meets Batman.

Bruce had done a remarkably thorough job of removing himself from either sense of identity he had, between the lack of money, lack of Gotham and having killed.

It was really the last that he couldn't reconcile. The fact that what he had killed was already dead and in defense of someone who was fully alive was... irrelevant to how he viewed the action. He had become the merciless thing that Ra's had tried to turn him into.

By and large he 'handled' that by not handling it at all. By working harder to be a useful presence here. To find supplies, to work on technology and development of what they needed and by making sure that if he left the compound he left alone.

He was just back from one of those excursions when he saw Superman. He was still wearing his body armor, gauntlets, boots even, but he wasn't bothering with the cowl. The cowl was Batman, and Batman didn't kill. He had, therefore -

Yeah, he was a little mentally fucked.

All his reasoning about identity still applied. Most of the people here who knew Batman didn't know him anyway.

He stopped, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "Can you be infected by what is happening here? Do you know?"

He was great at small talk. He also had an idea.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"What are you doing?"

Yes, he was very aware the man had asked him a question. A very good question actually, one he'd wondered himself and one they should consider because a 'zombie' Superman wasn't exactly something he wanted to bring to the table so it was worth studying. And if he was really immune it wouldn't hurt to try to get a cure (even if he wasn't exactly willing to let people test around with his blood, the codex was still inside his genes after all).

But, in his defense, the armor was kind of distracting. "Actually- no, considering your attitude last time this makes a lot of sense. But still: what are you doing?"

"I didn't have an attitude last time, but if you don't answer my question I'm going to have one now."

Which meant that, no, he wasn't going to be answering Superman's question before Superman answered his, god dammit. Meanwhile he started unfastening his gauntlets so he could pull his gloves off. The gloves were decent protection, but they did limit his manual dexterity somewhat, and since he was in the compound he saw no reason to continue to wear them.

Clark refrained from rolling his eyes, but only barely. Curiosity won over pointing out that he was giving him an attitude and they had barely started making conversation.

"I don't think so, but I can't be sure. Unless I'm bitten, I guess. I've never gotten sick though. Why? Got any ideas on how to test?"

Clark was being way too agreeable and cooperative. Enough so that Bruce almost showed his surprise at getting an answer from the other man. He even blinked once, and paused.

"No, I don't have any ideas how to test that theory and I would rather not, but it does make you one of the safer people to go out and about with." He wouldn't have to kill anyone already dead for Clark, probably. "Amongst other reasons, of course. I need your help." Moving something, not in a serious way. Also, he owned Clark an answer. "I'm trying to set up a refrigeration unit inside the compound, to work on a project. I can't transport it myself." And: "What figures?"

"Oh. That's a good idea.I can move it, it shouldn't be a problem."

He belatedly realized he probably shouldn't have sounded so surprised. The man had been nothing but good ideas even as he got t know the terrain. But he hadn't really been expecting an answer at all.

"I simply meant that you acted like you had been training. Military or something but without the... following orders kind of attitude. So you being this ready isn't surprising."

Dammit, Clark, stop being so damned likable. That Oh? That was likable. The phrasing was likable. Everything that came out of Superman's mouth was more earnest, honest, and likable than made sense coming out of a guy who could fly, was apparently invulnerable and could bench press a building.

He inclined his head back toward the wall, in prelude to starting walking that way. He hadn't intended to do this now - he was tired, nearly to the point of exhausted, but he was also not going to waste time. He had the agreement now, he may as well get it done.

"Not military. Ninjas." He was apparently going to give some kind of answer, whether he quite trusted this guy or not. "They didn't prepare me for zombies."

Though it was going to be a dry answer, that said he found it ridiculous himself.

And here Clark had been worried about offending him.

“You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, there's no need for sarcasm.” In his defense, who would take 'ninjas' seriously in that kind of conversation? “But yeah, I think most people weren't really ready for this. Unless there's something like that in their world, which let's be real is really possible.

You want to try go flying again?”

"Do you want me to throw up on you?" he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm again. "No, I don't want to fly again. I found what I need in Haven. We can walk there, you can fly back with it, and I'll follow at normal speeds, and on the ground."

It wasn't a huge distance, and he could handle himself that far.

He was also perfectly content to let Clark think he was being a smart ass. Sometimes the best hiding spot for the truth was in open air.

Clark wrinkled his nose as an answer. Imagine how nicely puke smells when you have supersenses.

“So what is exactly your idea for a refrigerator? I mean, what are we getting?”

Bruce turned on his heel and started walking back toward the wall. He looked over his shoulder toward Clark, as he walked, expression pretty bemused. "A commercial refrigeration unit. Something from a restaurant, or possibly a refrigerated semi."

Probably not a situation most people would call amusing, but Clark couldn't help a snort as he hovered behind the man.

"I don't know why I was expecting something more dramatic."

"I don't either," he said, tone just a little bit dry. "Maybe because you can't keep your feet on the ground and head out of the clouds." Was that a jab about Clark floating behind him? You bet your pretty red cape, Superman.

Clark just floated a little higher and made a point to fly in front of him, turning around so they were still face to face and he was hovering backwards.

"You've got a problem with my hovering? I did offer to fly you. I'm sure you wouldn't... well. Again."

"I find it ridiculous. I wouldn't call that a problem." He kept walking, even if he was now walking into Superman's face - or chest. He was just going to assume anyone who could fly in outer space could manage to avoid being smacked into by a human walking at normal speeds. "And I don't know why you'd be sure of that or avoiding the verb."

"Because I'm a perpetual optimist. And I was trying to be nice to your dignity." Clark kept flying backwards to avoid a collision, trying to match Bruce's speed.

"I can walk by your side if it bothers you so much." And yet he was still hovering. Yeah, he'd force Bruce to ask if he wanted him down, because... well. Honestly? There wasn't much when it came to distractions in this place. Sue him.

"My dignity can withstand any word or group of words you can possibly use to describe throwing up," Bruce said, dryly, because he was fairly certain that it could. He wasn't going to admit to embarrassment over puking, nope, not for anything. "Yours, however, apparently can't handle having your feet on the ground. That's your problem. As long as you're coming with me, I don't care if you handsprings all the way."

Clark did lower his feet on the ground, making a point of staying like that a few seconds if only to make sure Bruce could see.

And then, without adding another world, he simply started doing handsprings next to the other man, with a very smug grin on his face.

Bruce's steps faltered for a moment from sheer disbelief. Then he had to resist the urge to laugh out loud. He didn't laugh here, dammit. He barely laughed anywhere. Not going to do it now, no matter how ridiculous.

"Right. My mistake. You don't have dignity."

He landed in front of him with a very 'ta-da' kind of attitude and a shiteating grin. It was... fun, to let himself just be a jerk for the hell of it. He didn't have many opportunities for that back home. But in here Superman wasn't an identity he had to keep to guide humanity like both his fathers had wanted him to. Superman was just... him, and he could just be himself.

"I'm not the one puking around, am I?"

"You aren't the one being taken for rollercoaster rides after dinner, either." He paused and frowned at Superman as a question occurred to him, "Do you even eat?"

He wasn't sure if he was having fun or he wanted to punch this guy's lights out, yet. Time would tell, but for now it was pretty firmly some of both. Wanting to punch him was kind of fun.

Bruce was an odd man.

Now that he'd been a jerk Clark was happy to simply walk besides Bruce, hands on his back.

"I do. I don't have to, not often, but I like the normalcy of it. I'm trying not to eat much in here though, just in case we run our of food for people who actually need it."

The ease with which Bruce transitioned from snarky remarks to conversational should probably be worrying, but since Superman had made a very similar transition he wasn't too fussed.

"We need to think about planting food. Livestock won't work but we should be able to arrange some sort of sustainable project. Scavenging isn't a long term solution." But crops weren't a short term one. "Something has to fuel you. If it isn't food, what is it?"

Clark didn't even notice the transition. He could go from teasing to serious in a second, just like he could get angry enough to trash a man's truck in just a couple seconds. He was an emotional man.

"No offense, but the government is always asking that kind of things from me to find out ways to keep me under their control. So I'd rather not show all my cards right away. Does that make sense?"

"Sure," he agreed, with what might seem a surprising amount of ease. For a moment or two. He even paused to get outside the gates, though he did so by going over the wall again, just for the safety of others inside. "You also just told me that wherever you're from, you're known to the government and they have a problem with you and that whatever you use for energy is something that can be taken away from you."

Just in case Clark had missed that. Not that Bruce was making it a threat, he was just making it Clark that Clark wasn't being opaque. Then again, he clearly didn't intend to be or he would have lied.

"Nope." He grinned as he followed Bruce outside. He didn't even hover this time, actually following the man's steps.

"I told you they are trying to find out if it can be taken away from me. But you're good at reading between the lines."

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