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(no subject) [Feb. 8th, 2006|08:19 pm]
Bruce Wayne
(( OOC: Just scooting this post back onto the GL flist. ))
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December 3rd - 11:32 AM [Jan. 12th, 2006|01:47 pm]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |pensivepensive]
[music |The Cranberries :: Ode To My Family]

Phone CallCollapse )
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** E-mail ** November 29 [Nov. 15th, 2005|02:29 pm]
Bruce Wayne
To: CJGordon@GCPD.org
From: [[ IP UNTRACEABLE ]]
Subject: Dr. Jason Woodrue

Commissioner:

Dr. Woodrue was poisoned primarily by black nightshade. Odd for a botanist, don't you think?

I'd suggest checking the reports and cross-referencing them against his car registration. Maybe we can find where he was.

- Batman

PS. Sorry about the boat.
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Presumed Private Entry - November 29, 10 AM [Nov. 15th, 2005|02:10 pm]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |contemplativecontemplative]
[music |Paul McCartney :: Fine Line]

Black nightshade. Jason Woodrue, a prominent botanist, was poisoned with nightshade. And from what I could see, it spread from his face. His lips.

One of Gotham's most renowned botanists does not go willingly putting his face in nightshade. That doesn't take much deduction at all. Nor does the fact that he had reason to come from Ivy University last night, and whoever killed him knew it. ... I'm going to try and put in a tip to Jim to look for his car. I'd do it myself, but the systems in the Cave are crippled.

This is really starting to get on my nerves. Sometimes I've got half a mind to go down to Arkham and give Ed Nygma hell for it ... but considering he kinda wanted me dead as Bruce Wayne -before- he figured out I was Batman, that might not be such a great idea.

I think Selina's still here, somewhere ... Dick and I already had coffee and all, but maybe she'll want to go to lunch. Or, maybe she left. Maybe she already spent enough time with me. Who knows ... I wouldn't put it past her, considering my luck with women.

Either way. I think I'd better send that email.
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Presumed Private Entry - November 27, 1:21 AM [Oct. 27th, 2005|12:20 am]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |exhaustedexhausted]
[music |Goo Goo Dolls :: Name]

Max Shreck is alive.

True, I didn't get to see him, but Alfred wouldn't lie. And I'm sure Dick won't either, once I see him. Right now, though, I don't dare leave my room. I might wake Selina.

Bringing her up here might not have been the best of moves, as far as party etiquette is concerned - the gossip columnists will probably have something to say about it, unless something else eats up all their attention by tomorrow morning. But I couldn't have her and Max catching sight of each other, separately or at once. Not after last Christmas. Not after they nearly killed each other.

I don't know, exactly, how Max would react - since I still don't know exactly what their problems with each other are - but I know Selina would be less than thrilled. No, wait. I know Catwoman would be less than thrilled. And no matter what happened, it wouldn't have been good for her to let that side of herself show at the party. Especially not in front of the Dean.

I suppose that now, the question is multi-faceted. How did Shreck survive? Why did he come back to Gotham? There's nothing here for him, anymore. Not financially. Not besides his own estate, since his son declined the offer to inherit Shreck Enterprises and Tekmore put the bid in. And potentially not revenge - how would he know Selina was still alive? I doubt that he would.

He's after something - but why come looking for it at a party full of University beneficiaries?

I can already tell it'll be at least another hour before I can calm my mind down enough to sleep.

... Maybe less, if I go lie down next to Selina, though. I don't know if I can put her effect on me into words. Closest I can even try to come is to say that we're the same. Maybe it's birds of a feather. I don't know.

All I know is, right now, I think we both need each other. Even if only in unconscious company.
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** E-mail ** November 24 [Jul. 4th, 2005|02:18 am]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |calmcalm]
[music |Lazlo Bane :: Overkill]

To: CJGordon@GCPD.org
From: BWayne@WayneInd.com
Subject: Charity Event

Jim,

I hope the fall season's finding you well, in the wake of everything that's happened. I'm writing to ask if you'd be interested (and inclined) to join me at a charity ball I'm holding at Wayne Manor for Gotham University. I'm sure, certainly, that word of mouth about it has reached you already - and I apologize for not writing personally, sooner. (I think I may have a little too much on my plate at the moment!) If you can come, Dick and I would love to have you - not just as a officer of the law, but as a friend.

Take care, and my regards to Barbara.

~ Bruce
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Presumed Private Entry - November 25 [Jul. 3rd, 2005|12:18 am]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |rushedrushed]
[music |Matthew Good Band :: Failing The Rorshach Test]

I saw Selina last night. Well, heard first, then saw. Called the Dean, and what do you know, she's working at GU. So. I managed to bumble my way through a coffee invitation. Took her to Eastern Perk, that nice little place near the harbor ... burnt my tongue. Hey, Bruce, next time you order coffee, wait a while to drink it, okay? ... ow.

It's ... it was ... I'm still amazed at how good it feels to see her again. Amazed, and well, maybe scared. Because, well, the last time, I got too wrapped up and ... well. I know what happened, I don't need to write it here to remind myself.

And I can't afford to let that happen again. Not now, when it isn't just me, anymore.

I don't think I'm going to say anything to Dick. And I'm not changing my password, either. After all, I doubt he'll try and hack back in here again. He kept avoiding me today. Never quite looked at me. If the computer log hadn't told me he was in here, those hangdog looks would have done it on their own.

I'd better go - I see the signal outside. Let's hope it's nothing big.
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11.23 (-Presumed- Private Entry) [Jun. 30th, 2005|07:55 am]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |groggygroggy]
[music |Goo Goo Dolls :: Name]

((OOC A/N :: This entry is marked Presumed Private. Therefore, it's stored in the Batcave's computer logs, and if anyone knows Bruce's passwords, they can have access to it. Please leave an OOC comment if you think you have a reason for a character to have/need access. ))

She's back.

She's alive, and she's back.

I don't know if I dare say too much more. Because, well, two things.

Number one ... this is Selina we're talking about. Catwoman in every sense of the word - she's beautiful, she's mysterious, she's moody ... and she's skittish. I don't want to scare her away. So ... I said what came to me, first. What came on instinct. (However, I censored myself heavily ... I don't think she wants to hear -everything- that's on my mind right now. It's been a year - who knows what's changed?)

I told her that we could live with each other. Work around each other. Ourselves. Both of ourselves.

And while I feel like it's the thing that would work for us ... I'm not sure it's the thing that would work for Gotham. Which brings us to number two:

I have really, really, really bad luck with this sort of thing. It's one of those things that a part of me wishes I could talk to Alfred about, but he's busy enough already getting things set for the party. Which I dropped in his lap, too ("Hey Alfred, let's party." "Yes, Master Wayne, splendid, shall I do all the work again?" "Yeah sure, that'd be great, thanks, you're a real pal."). I feel really bad. Like everything I do isn't really that big, and Alfred's behind the scenes doing the Beaches thing. You know, being the wind beneath my wings and all that. And in a way, he is. But whenever I bring that up, he tends to sort of hand me a nice fat reality check. All the things I do, apparently, matter. Both as Bruce and as Batman. Wayne Enterprises is (according to some) a big boon to Gotham's economy ... which is good, I don't want Gotham turning into the next Hooverville, and all. And Batman, well. Help's debatable, according to Gotham. But as I told Selina ... I'm starting to wonder if it really matters how much good people think I'm doing.

If I feel I'm doing the best thing for as many involved as possible, isn't that enough?

... I don't know. I guess this is what I get for writing as soon as I wake up. ... But that's supposed to be the best time to clear your head ...

It really doesn't feel all that clear. Maybe after a few cups of coffee, I'll be meeting-worthy. After all, the board's meeting today to discuss stock options, and a possible business partnership with Tekmore Industries. They're not that big a corporation ... the only thing that gained them a name is that in the past couple of months, they've taken the reins for Shreck Ltd. from Chip Shreck. Guy seemed nice enough when I met with him before he left for the Orient. I wish him well. His father's another story - I think it's a good thing Gotham isn't under his twisting little manipulative thumb anymore.

But I'm rambling again - this is why I need coffee. Tekmore, right, I was talking about Tekmore. Uh. The only real thing we'd gain is a small percentage of stock capital, and they'd gain a part of ours ... sort of a symbiotic relationship, dependant on a mutual gain ratio. In other words, we both have to win to some extent for us both to gain anything. Incentive to work harder on both sides. So, it could work if Tekmore manages to bring SL back up from the ground. But little department stores aren't doing so hot anymore in the face of the big chains like Hal-Mart and all that.... so I don't know.

I guess that's what the board meeting's for, right?

And in other news .... how the HELL did Selina know about the party?!

God, I gotta stop trying to think so much before my coffee. Two cups, today, I think.
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November 20 [Jun. 27th, 2005|09:36 pm]
Bruce Wayne
[mood |thoughtfulironic]
[music |Massive Attack ^|^ Protection]

Chase told me once that I should keep one of these things, especially of my dreams. She said I should keep it all to myself, that she'd never read it or anything.

Even so, I never started it. Mostly for the same reason that we ended up not working out: it felt like therapy. Everything she said started to feel like therapy. I'd come home at maybe four, five a.m, and she'd roll over in bed, all wrapped up impossibly in the sheets, and say, "Hey Bruce, what do you think it represents, you throwing the leader of the Red Devils into that dumpster like that?"

Honestly, she'd -say- things like that. And mean 'em.

... and they call me crazy.

Breaking up with Chase made me realize something. All this time, all these years, I've been drawing correllaries between myself, and everyone else out there on the streets of Gotham, searching for some sort of meaning. With Joker, well, that was a little different. That was a dance with the devil in the pale moonlight, you can't get more profound than revenge.

But after that ... With Selina it was the duality, wondering how you can connect when you've got two sides to connect with. With the Penguin ... maybe Cobblepot was right, maybe it was the fact that we were both freaks of a sort. Harvey's personal life, ruined by tragedy, our dualities ... Edward's intelligence.

The way I've started seeing things, I wouldn't be surprised if I ended up calling my own nightmares my brothers by the time I got through with myself.

Gotham doesn't have time for me to walk around and soul-search every person I come up against. It needs a protector.

I've made my choices. I'm going to stand by them. I don't need someone to validate me ...

... Even so, despite myself, that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to stop looking.

I know myself too well for that.
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