2994/The Way We Were

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The Way We Were
Date of Scene: 19 August 2020
Location: Talia al Ghul's NYC Penthouse
Synopsis: Star-crossed lovers share a bittersweet reunion.
Cast of Characters: Talia al Ghul, Bruce Wayne




Talia al Ghul has posed:
When Talia al Ghul had come to New York City she'd already made the arrangements, and now held claim over a penthouse suite in one of the many buildings towering over the landscape, allowing her to look down in absolute comfort and decadance. It was her due, afterall.

A luxuriant bed, a roof-top swimming pool and deck for lounging, an opulent bath sunk into the floor that could double as a hot-tub large enough for a party of twelve, a self-contained entertainment system were among the luxuries involved. But then, Talia was used to such things, and didn't bother 'slumming' it with others when she didn't have to.

This evening, Talia is just getting out of the pool, a black two-piece bikini the only clothing she's got on, and the towel all the way over -there- as the water drips off her body at first in sheets, and then in dribbles.

She stands still a few moments, looking out over the city, silently, thoughtfully.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
There's a faintest of rustles when the Batman alights upon the rooftop. It may well trigger a state of alarm for Talia, at least for a second...when she spots the crouched figure of the Dark Knight looming on the edge of the rooftop that marks the entrance back into the Penthouse, it becomes more apparent that the sound was likely a deliberate one, to alert her to his presence.

"Talia."

His expression is...not pleased. Though it's hard to tell with the cowl on how conflicted he might be...a lot of nuance is lost with the lenses of the mask in the way.

"We're overdue for a talk."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia had looked, almost imperceptibly, towards the sound. And, when she'd seen who it was she'd relaxed, and continued to wring out her hair just a little bit, until she was approached.

For a few moments she does not even seem to acknowledge her visitor until she tosses her hair back and then she turns to fully regard him, her own look even, cool, and ever-so-slightly amused that this is the moment he chose to have the conversation.

"Mmm," she agrees, eyes flickering over him in the costume, "I suppose it is." She nods, more sober and serious, and begins walking down the span of the pool towards the towel sitting on one of the reclining deck chairs.

"You've been busy," she cites, knowledgably. Perhaps excusing him, in that statement, for not visiting her sooner than now. And, perhaps, explaining also why she hasn't just dropped by. But, if she knows what, exactly, has been keeping him thus she doesn't go into details. "And, let's face it, beloved. Neither of us are ones to send postcards."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"I'm always busy." Batman replies setting foot on the ground and standing straight, his cloak draped closely around him...a near-motionless shadow among shadows. He's silent as she plucks up the towel, but after a few moments, he breaks the silence. Perhaps he doesn't feel like he has time for awkward pauses.

"You could have told me. You could have come to me. You know I would have protected you both."

There's no petulance in the voice. Nor even anger, precisely. There is, however, traces of a thread of hurt...betrayal...if there IS anger though, she knows him more than well enough that he's probably directing it mostly at himself, for not discovering Damian sooner.

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia swipes the towel across her face, then lets one end of it drop to the ground as she turns to consider him with measured intensity. There's no rancor in her tone, no accusation, only simple fact.

"You did not want the life I offered you, beloved," she states, some of the affection for him in her own tone coming through. "You refused the mantle."

A hand is placed on his chest, over the bat emblem that defines the man within the costume with a lover's caress. Initimate. "And, it would have only distracted you from your purpose."

Her eyes search for his beyond the mask. But she remains close to him, another half-step forward and she'd be pressed against him, fully. "We both made our choices, that night. And, fate bound us still. We are ever to be entwined, beloved."

She looks out then, over the city, "Even if we are both - busy."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"And then you...and your father...made the choice for /him/. Which was no choice at all." Batman scowls, "You let him turn our son into a killer."

He doesn't flinch away from her touch, though neither does he relax at it. He's silent a few more moments, and while he does speculate as to Talia's presence here in New York, he didn't come here to interrogate her...at least not about that.

"Tell me...truthfully...was it your idea to bring him to me? Or his?"

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia is silent for a few more moments, as if trying to pierce those goggles in the cowl, to see past them, into the man's eyes whom she, perhaps, knows better than most others - even some who consider themselves 'close' to Bruce Wayne.

"Mine," is her honest answer. "It did not take much convincing of my father. Despite your rejection of his offer, he still holds out hope that you may yet change your mind. And even he cannot discount your skills."

She remains still, unmoving from where she'd set herself, so close - and yet just far enough away from him to remain intimate, and yet feel that ache of wanting to be closer to him. Or, him to her, perhaps.

"I sent him to you when he was ready."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"And your father is going to try to take him back when he thinks he's learned everything of use from me." A statement of fact in the Batman's mind. The only logical conclusion. The only way Ra's would have agreed to it. "He won't. Even beyond me not letting him. He's not like your father. Even after everything he had to do...he has the hands of a killer, the mind for it, but not the heart of one. Not at its' core."

Bruce pauses a moment, yet again, taking in a breath, exhaling slowly.

"Much as I might like to believe it, that sort of thing isn't genetic. Someone taught him that life had value. Perhaps not in the most traditional of ways, but he has more conscience than even he lets on at times." Another beat passes.

"Was that you?"

Talia al Ghul has posed:
Talia's face tightens, briefly, before she regains control of it. "No." She is honest, at the very least. "That is his own doing. I was not a mother to him. Anymore than you could have been a father to him." She knows Bruce far, far too well.

"He is our son," is all she can say, suggestive that Bruce's own genetic code might be responsible for that sense of conscience.

Then, she's pressing herself close to him, her lips kissing against his, slow and intimate. Her teeth graze against his lips before she pulls away, slowly - reluctantly, her eyes lidded even as a sigh escapes her lips.

"Do not worry about what the future may, or may not bring, beloved. We are the masters of our own fates."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
At first, there is the barest moment of tension, a sense, perhaps, of the thought of pulling away occurring to him, being processed, and almost translated into motion...but not quite. It's clearly not his /instinct/ to do so. Nor, ultimately, his desire. By the time the kiss parts, against all better judgment, he is returning it in equal measure. Though his face schools back to its' impassive mask quickly enough.

He told himself that wasn't going to happen, but here they are. Deny all he like he cannot banish all feeling for this woman from himself. Even after over a decade of deception-by-ommission. It may not be exactly as it was before, but it's also not nearly as different as he might have hoped for. Feeling nothing would be far, far easier. Even feeling contempt. But sadly for him, neither are the case.

"If that's the case...you could still walk away from it all, Talia. Away from /him/." He cants his head, "We both know we'll never have a traditional family...but it could be /a/ family."

Talia al Ghul has posed:
The smile that touches Talia's face is an honest one. Sincere. Warm. Perhaps, the vaugest shadow of what she might've looked like, or been, if she had not been the daughter of the man who is her father, Ra's al Ghoul. It is the smile of a woman in love, and the man who she is in love with - and whom she knows loves her back, is near.

But that smile is gone almost as soon as it spreads across her lips for something more amused, a little wry. She leans her head against his chest, and again she sighs. "Bruce." The affection for him, and the knowledge of how close - and yet how far he is away from her is in every shade of tone in her words, now, "I would do much for you. I have done more for you than I have any other man, save my father. But until order comes to the world, and the corruption that permeates it is wrung from it, my duty is not done."

Then, she pulls from him, only a full step back but it seems a chasm, at least to her. She looks down, briefly, before meeting his eyes once more.

Her hands move to the cowl, then. His face. Her fingers press against the skin, warm flesh against his cheek, and they slide beneath the mask, just a little as if she might pull it off to look him, truly, in the eyes.

"We are masters of our own fates," she repeats, adding, "But they pull us apart, more than they would ever bring us together." Slowly, her hands move back to rest at her side.

"Teach him well, beloved."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Bruce nods, as though hearing an answer that was expected. Despite it all, while his expression remains focused and solemn, there's no grimace of disappointment. It is...sadly...the outcome he foresaw.

"You know that we will."

The damnable thing of it all is that the endstate they seek is not so different, but for the vastly differing methods to achieve it.

He moves now, to the edge of the building, a hand at his belt extracting the grapnel launcher as he goes. He pauses on the precipice, looking over his shoulder, and for a moment, the grim facade fades, a glimmer of genuine regret replacing it as he speaks:

"I had to try. For Damian. And for me."

And then he vanishes from sight, dropping off the side of the building, letting himself fall a few meters before Talia can hear the release of compressed gasses launching the line across the intervening space to another building, and her last glimpse is of the Dark Knight swinging through the air, until his course takes him around a corner and out-of-sight.