dinner | ❝ i'm gonna make a change, for once my life. ❞ (cont)

[menarebrave]

( continued threads from here! )

[ Bruce honestly isn't sure why he's even joining in all this. It isn't that he doesn't want to spend time with them. It isn't the fact that he dislikes them. It's... so normal. And normal is something that always seems to elude Bruce Wayne. He pushed Dick away, he failed to save Jason, and Alfred is constantly disappointed in him. That was even before the situation with Superman and Lex Luthor...

What the hell are you doing, Bruce?

He sighs and gets out of the car. A click and covering the car later, he is walking up to his own front door. Maybe he should start rebuilding Wayne Manor if they're always going to be over?

Bruce also figures he'll be the one that ends up cooking for everyone. Which is why he's brought things that he needs to cook. Sides, since everyone has already decided on the steak. He hangs up the coat and walks straight to the kitchen.

Hopefully he's beat them all there. ]

Comments

since robb's complaining that there are no girls—

[forceshadowed]

Even if they hadn't been forced to flee and dive prematurely into this final, desperate mission, Jane still wouldn't have been ready. How could any training have prepared her for this?

It feels like falling, then being torn apart and put back together and torn apart again, and then another freefall through an endless white nothingness. Somewhere in the white she sees faces, and her mind desperately holds on to the images as though doing so would keep her from disintegrating into the void. She recognizes some of them: Veré, the Mother; Scarlet Witch, who she'd only seen moments before and had sternly reminded them to avoid the lake house at all costs; even the one they called Ghost, a legend in the Resistance, a man with dark hair and sad, gray eyes who she unfortunately didn't have the honor of meeting.

And then she's dropped back into the world, hard, as though the Earth itself is offended by her very existence. She feels her body slam into something made of metal and glass before hitting concrete, and in a daze she rolls to her back, lifting a hand to her head to steady herself. Then she stares up at the sky. It's night. And there are stars—

Brown eyes widen in shock. Holy kriff, there are stars.

omg his car /weeps

[wolfsnarl]

Couldn’t grab a girl at the last minute – it was a shame, actually. He should’ve been able to; there were plenty walking around, and he was sure at least one of them would rather accompany him to this borefest of a dinner than go anywhere else. Imagined scenarios that would keep the borefest from being too agonizingly boring, but it was beginning to look like his imagination was going to be all he had to keep him company. Well, that and Jon. And Ghost. And whoever else was sitting around. They would surely be interested in having a look at his car, right? What else could they possibly be doing to keep themselves entertained? Look, but not touch—

But then he’s slamming on his brakes, much more roughly than he enjoyed having to do, and a moment after his brows shoot up in shock, they’re furrowing in aggressive annoyance. Whatever he just hit – no, whatever just hit him - had struck with enough impact to leave a mark. Irritation brought a curse to his lips as he set the car in park, ducking out the door and quickly stalking his way around the front to see what was responsible. An animal? Something obnoxious left in the street? A rock from God-knows-where?

Or… a girl? He blinks his face out of its mask of annoyance just long enough to take the sight in. Yes, a girl, lying there on the pavement, staring dumbfounded up at the stars. Why hadn’t he seen her? Or, more importantly, why hadn’t she seen him, and stayed out of the road? She doesn’t look maimed, anyway, and so his attention is snared back on the fact that she landed without invitation on the hood of his car. He steps forward and reaches a hand out to tenderly stroke the vehicle’s silver face. “Do you always throw yourself in front of cars like that?” She could’ve broken something.

Oh – she could’ve broken some part of herself, too. Returning to his manners belatedly, he steps around the girl, giving her a quick inspection before leaning down to begin helping her up, one hand finding her fingers and the other gripping her shoulder. “You look okay. Can you get up?” He can’t help but smirk: maybe when wishing for a girl to appear, he should’ve been more specific. “Interesting timing, I have to say.”

aggressive annoyance 🙄 lmfao

[forceshadowed]

There had been a joke, back when they were still figuring out the logistics of the mission, that perhaps the Resistance's method of sending them back would be like those old scifi movies (old because they didn't exactly have movies anymore) where the travelers wound up naked in the streets, and while maybe some people wouldn't mind that view, Jane was glad they didn't have to resort to that. Though she was lying on the concrete momentarily dazed, she was still dressed in the clothes she'd left the future in — a black shirt that had been altered so it was less a uniform and more of a crop top, pale brown pants the shade of desert sand likewise modified for the appropriate effect, and combat boots. She had nothing else on her person, though; no identification card of any sort, no gadgets, no weapons, no jewelry, nothing. Her first course of action, supposedly, was to disappear into the crowd and rendezvous with K in the event they were separated.

But accidents happen, and she starts at the voice, her face turning up towards the source. It's a man, and a very nicely dressed one at that, though his attention seems to be on his vehicle and... holy kriff, there's a dent on it. Belatedly, she lifts a hand to her opposite elbow, knowing with certainty that she'd caused it but not feeling any pain or discomfort. She's always been stronger than most, and her training has only made her stronger; she could snap this man's arm clean and kill him with it if she wanted, especially since in the next moment he's leaning down—

It's his eyes that stop her from doing anything rash. They're a dazzling blue, with a smoldering intensity about them that piques her curiosity. Are they the same color as the sky in daylight, she wonders? Or perhaps the sea? "I'm fine," she answers, a little unsteadily, though it doesn't seem to have anything to do with her fall. She lets him help her up, and her gaze darts to the damage on his vehicle before drifting back to his face again. This time she smiles sheepishly. "Sorry about your spinner." A normal, not time displaced person would just call it a car, but she's anything but that. "Interesting timing? Why?"

he calls 'em as he sees 'em u_u

[wolfsnarl]

Where could she possibly have come from, anyway? Walking down the street dressed like… this? He wanders his gaze back over her, assuring again that all is as it should be – as much as it can without having any idea who she is or why she’s here, anyway. Stumbled into the street? Out of a building? She looks like she’s on some kind of mission, almost, although he figures the same could be said of anyone. Everyone’s on some kind of mission, right? But she’s wearing boots suited to a heavy-duty excursion, and pants that seem somehow both tactical and fashion-wise. And her midriff is showing, which he finds himself making note of, clearing his throat as he looks back up at her face.

He doesn’t understand what he’s hearing, however, furrowing his brow as he wonders what on earth she’s talking about. “My what?” Spinner? His car was the only victim of this encounter, a fact he was pained to face again, passing his gaze sympathetically over the dented hood before looking again at the inexplicable girl. “It’s called a Porsche. Maybe you hit your head,” and it’s only meant as a joke, because she looks fine, at least, though he keeps a hand hovering at her elbow just in case she collapses and proves him wrong. Assuming she is coherent and unbroken, though – it really is lucky timing. He can’t help laughing, even if he is standing beside a woeful new dent in his vehicle’s hood.

“Interesting because I was on my way to dinner and my brother was making fun of me for having no one to bring.” And Robb didn’t like losing. And, well… what were the chances that this girl who had been flung into his path had something better to do? It could be framed a bit more diplomatically, though. “You should probably sit down and relax for a while, right? So we can make sure you’re okay. Eating would be a good idea, too. And I would love to see the look on my brother’s face when he sees that I do have a date.” He flashes a roguish smile before extending the official offer. “Wanna crash this party with me while you’re recovering?”

[forceshadowed]

Her head tilts a little at that laugh, taking in his expression and the joy glistening in his blue eyes and the wonderful sound that he's making. Nobody laughs in the future anymore, and most especially not in the Resistance. But they really should find the will to at least do it occasionally, because she can feel her spirits lifting and the world around her lighting up from just that. Or maybe it's just because of this guy. There's something about him that she's finding really attractive, holy kriffing hell. "Yeah, I did hit my head. On your Porsche. Remember?" she tries to joke, and none of what she just said is actually funny but his laugh is contagious, so she's laughing anyway.

She's surprised by what he's offering her next, though, and she blinks. A dinner party? With food and people and... okay, so he's asking her out because his brother made fun of him, but she kind of gets it? She has a similar mischievous streak in her, after all. And, well, she should be on her way now, looking for K — who's kind of her brother, but not really — but how can she refuse this stranger? Especially with a smile and a laugh and eyes like that. Might as well go to this party and get her bearings and figure things out and spend a little more time with him while she's at it, right?

"If you're okay with me showing up like this," she says, ducking her head a little as she feels her cheeks flush, vaguely gesturing to herself and what she's wearing. "You know, when you're looking like that. All nice and sharp and proper." One of the guys in the base had commented that she looked like she just stepped out of a videogame, and she almost covers her stomach with her arms but she isn't sure if that'll only draw more attention to it. Certainly the women of 2020 — not that she realizes it's actually 2017, three years too early — show off their abs if they have any worth showing off, right?