Owner	Pose
Damian Wayne	While Clara was up late doing her research on the Wayne family, and in paticular Damian Wayne, there was a story that may have caught her interest - or at least the interest of her governess. A form that is on display at Harold's House of Oddities and Coffee that claims to be the original deed and contract to the lands that stately Wayne Manor now stand upon. If it is true, it could offer a rare insight to the wealthy, if reclusive family - as well as give Clara an opening for more research and provide her a chance to secure a document of some historical importance for her organization. The coffee shop only has a few customers at the moment, giving Clara a chance to case the area before she decides upon her next move and what will happen next.
Clara Jennings	Learning that a document of import is present at this strange place rather disturbs Clara. So much, in fact that she calls it to her governess' attention. Messages are relayed and Clara is given the Conservatory's blessing to evaluate the situation. Is the document valid? Is it properly defended?     Initial social engineering efforts reveal a private security firm is employed in the defense of the premises. An inquiry with that company indicates that they are foremost a retail security service, used to protecting the newest distractions of the public, from electronics to women's fashion.     Some study of the Harold's House website shows it is rather an eclectic thing. Further, it seems rather fun to Clara. The kind of place she would enjoy going herself.     After some sulking (which is promptly pointed-out by the Governess), Clara is reminded that a lady pursues her desire and does not waver in her interests. Further, she is reminded that she has the means to realize her will. Appearances be damned.     So it is that Damian receives a message from Clara. It is not a normal text message. It is a picture of a short letter on the paper she favors: Damian,     I have come across a place that I believe would be of interest to the both of us. It seems that Harold's House of Oddities has come across the deed granting Darius Wayne the lands which would become Wayne Manor. This museum is rather unusual, and also has a coffee shop, which would afford us the opportunity to continue our conversation. I would delight to share your company again.     Clara Eyre Jennings
Damian Wayne	Across town at the aforementioned Stately Wayne Manor, Damian is in the midsts of his morning katas when his phone chimes at him. It takes him a few minutes to respond, because of the fact that he was in the middle of his exercises and the message, he had assumed, would have to wait. Clara has to wait almost fifteen minutes before she finally sees the three little dots that announce that Damian has seen the text she sent and is preparing a response. A few moments later, the message appears. > Huh. Interesting. Let me grab a quick shower and a couple of things and I'll drop by. Go ahead and get some coffee, I'll pick up some once I'm there! - D.W. Text sent, Damian goes to shower, change and get ready. He decides that today will be an incognito day. Picking out a dark sweater, blue jeans, sneakers and wrap around sunglasses that hide his eyes, he spritzes on a little cologne scented of sandalwood and amber. Down through the house, there is a stop at the library, before he heads to the garage. Taking out one of the motorcycles, he slips on a helmet and makes the trek to the shop he knows well enough. It's almost forty five minutes after his message that Damian pulls up outside the shop. Hopefully, he has made it worth her wait as he slips into the cafe after locking his helmet with the spare one on the saddlebag of the bike and the bell jingles gently in announcing his arrival. Looking around for Clara, when he finds her, his hand raises in greetings as he makes his way over to her, the leather messenger bag gently settled at his side.
Clara Jennings	Among Clara's virtues, patience is perhaps the greatest and the most maddening to others. Waiting, after all, gives her time to think. Also to read. And study her surroundings. She also has a moment to ensure all is in order with her appearance.     Today she wears a gray turtleneck. The garment is tailored for her, mixing modesty and an emphasis of form. It is also comfortable. She wears a navy blue skirt that reveals her ankles. There are no slippers worn today, but instead black booties with a modest heel. Her only accessories are a cross on a silver chain and her bag, which seems rather better for hauling about books (she rather likes having at least three to read) than cosmetics.     Before her is Earl Grey tea, piping hot. She has by this point perhaps had two cups. Or has simply waited to order.     Clara looks up with every opening of the door, and so Damian's arrival can be met with a smile. She rises from her seat as he approaches. Before she speaks, she simply takes him in and again feels that thril down her spine and the racing of her heart.     "Hello, Damian! Thank you so much for joining me."
Damian Wayne	Once he's within the shop, Damian takes in the lovely form that is presented before him. He takes his time in doing so, and she cannot see his eyes, but the small smile that is allowed may give hope to Clara that she has hit close to the mark in drawing his interest. "It was no problem, Clara, I did not have much planned for the day. There is a couple of end of year events I will have to attend, but fortunately, they are not until later in the evening." A light touch of her hand is offered, a gentle caress as he waits for her to be seated first before he takes his own seat, a wave over to Harold's daughter, who is manning the shop today. She smiles as she recognizes the young man and starts to prepare his usual. Once seated, he adjusts the bag and opens it. From within, he pulls out an old, leather-bound tome. It's the type that's made by hand and probably dates back at least one hundred years, if not more. "So, I know about the document here." he admits sheepishly. "And I could have probably saved you the time and just texted back it was a fake. But I thought perhaps..." he sets the tome on the table, and gestures for her to move around to join him on his side of the table. "...you might wish to see the original." It also means he cleaved out the time to see her personally.
Clara Jennings	Clara carefully suppresses the excitement she feels. So far, the question about her own feelings in his presence have been answered. No, she does not feel the same as she did in their first meeting. She feels so much more. The first chapter of this relationship has only made her more excited to turn the page and find out what the author has in store for her next.     The touch of her hand causes the slightest of trembles. She hopes he does not notice, or simply confuses it for something else. Clara's settles into her seat to cover it, as well.     That book, though. Her eyes widen at the sight of it. And then she laughs as he points out that the museum has a fake. "Oh dear, Damian. I should admit I suspected it wouldn't be authentic. This place does not seem a proper museum, after all."     Enough about the fake, though. She moves her seat closer to his. In her excitement, she moves it perhaps closer than intended, so that her shoulder touches his. She is captivated by his suggestion, of course. "I would very much like to see the original document. And I should have known something so important would have been kept carefully secured." Or, in this case, carefully removed from security and carted across town to spoil her.
Damian Wayne	He does not retreat when she presses her shoulder to his, Damian's attention remains on the book itself. It's a well-guarded treasure, and one should probably assume he probably has some bodyguard somewhere keeping an eye on him and it to make sure they remain safe. She can pick up the cologne he had worn when he was getting ready to meet her, an extra step in preparation. Reaching up, he removes his glasses, setting them aside so she may see those green eyes that had captured her attention last night. Opening the book, the first page is a fold out chart of the Wayne family tree. He carefully unfurls it. "This chart tracks my family from me, as the youngest, all the way back to Sir geVain, a knight in the service of Arthur of Camelot. You may know him better as Sir Gawain." he explains as he starts the tale. Clara could make out that among his siblings, he is the only one with a direct blood line to Bruce. "Another ancestor of note is Sir Gaweyne de Wayene, a French knight of the Scottish court." He turns the page to bring up his heritage page and coat of arms, "He perished in the Crusades in the protection of Jerusalem." he explains. Turning the page, he comes across some artifacts from the 1600s. "This is Nathaniel Wayne, his descendent. He made the trip from Scotland to the colony that would become New Jersey. He was a witch hunter and it was rumored that one of the witches he hunted had fallen in love with him and when he condemned her to burn at the stake..." There's actually the original form of the condemnation right there in front of their eyes, "...she had cursed him and the Wayne family with an eternity of misfortune." He pauses there, allowing Clara a chance to take it all in, ask questions and generally catch up before he continues as his coffee arrives and he hands over a twenty to pay for it. "Keep the change, Betsy. Thanks!"
Clara Jennings	There is a moment where the cologne captures her attention. She is not familiar with scents, but is taken with it. Because it is his scent, the choice he made when thinking of her. Her perfume is light, calling to mind the scent of lilac.     Her attention is soon captured by the family tree. Clara delights in reading and in lecture. There is, as it turns out, a small problem she has to navigate. While she is excited by what she sees (there's an eager tension that can be felt in her shoulders) there is also his voice. She has listened to him before, of course, but she was attending his words than, rather than getting wrapped-up in the instrument of his voice. This is a very important distinction. In one, words process naturally, they capture her full attention and are strung into meaning. In attending on the sound itself, however, those words require effort, their meaning is somewhat exchanged in the appreciation of an even greater beauty.     It is a good thing Clara's memory is such a faithful scribe. Still, she is silent for much of it. She waits for the pauses that are present in any good lecture. The kind that leave a natural space for such interruptions.     "Before I came to Gotham, I had done some reading. It is important to know and appreciate the history of a place. I knew somewhat of your family's history. I did not know how storied your ancestors were. This is truly remarkable."     Her line of thinking is paused to recognize his generosity. She already felt this in the attention he paid to her. Now she can appreciate it includes others.     "Which of your ancestors do you feel closest to, Damian?" is her question. She could not imagine having such a line of heroes in her own past. She pauses to add another, "And what would you like future generations of your family to learn from your story?"
Damian Wayne	She does smell pleasant, Damian had already made note of that. His attention has been focused on the book so far, in relating the story of his family to her, that he has missed all of her excitement and enjoyment that she is taking in the tale and the artifacts so far. He clearly does not realize that he is part of this equation as he considers her question. "Ah ah." he teases her lightly. "We've just started on the history and you're asking me to jump ahead, you're either really curious, or you're that bored." There's a playful grin shot her way. Which is way of avoiding the question, because as he turns the page in the tome, there is that very artifact that brought him out of the Manor and to her side today. A ledger for a plot of land within New Jersey, the county of Gotham, that would become Wayne Manor. "This is Darius Wayne and his brother 'Mad' Anthony Wayne. Darius lead an expedition to capture the British frigate 'Indomitable' and as recognition for his effort, was granted the land that Wayne Manor is upon now. It is said that some of the timbers from the ship are actually part of the foundation of Wayne Manor." he explains. "Darius' descendent, Charles, would be the one that would lay out the groundwork for what would become Gotham City, and amass the start of the Wayne fortune through such. Charles would pass his legacy to his sons, Joshua and Solomon. Joshua would use the caves that were once below the Manor as part of the Underground Railroad, making it a major station for escaped slaves to have a place to stop, rest, recover and prepare for the journey to Canada. Joshua would be killed by bounty hunters for doing this, he died protecting the slaves they had tried to take back." A pause. "That would be one of my major influences as a Wayne." he explains. "Solomon became a judge and saw justice for his brother's death. That too, would be a major influence. Solomon's son, Alan, would have the land passed down to him. He would build the railroads and backbone of what would become Wayne Enterprises." "Alan would have a son, Kenneth. Kenneth founded Wayne Chemical, but he was murdered young and his wife, Laura would take over the company. Their son, Thomas Patrick, would found WayneTech, WayneCorp and many other business ventures. Thomas Patrick would have two children. Agatha. And my grandfather, Thomas Wayne." And it is there he pauses again, allowing Clara to take it all in and digest it as he takes the moment to sip from his coffee.
Clara Jennings	Clara is rather used to being scolded. Her governess does so frequently! She accepts his correction with a smile and a slight bowing of her head.     "My apologies, I shall endeavor to wait until the story of Damian Wayne comes into focus."     She would like to draw out paper and start taking notes. They are not technically required. When she is interested, her memory loses precious few things. Clara is very interested. Her eyes divide her focus between the deed, the precious document whose forgery brought them together today, and the man.     As she takes it in, her mind frequently diverts questions at itself. What does she mean to do with Damian? Is she certain her intentions are pure and that she is not, in fact, simply pursuing a man whose history and station are so far above her own?     It is a thought she does not dismiss. So many women would throw themselves at Damian's feet. Were he penniless, though, she would still crave his company. If they met under a drafty roof behind a broken door she would still rush to his side just as eagerly.     This answer assures her. It also shocks her. She flees from it for now, though, to put all her attention again on his voice.     "For centuries your family has been devoted to justice," she notes calmly. "From enforcing a brutal law against a beloved witch to defying the law so that others might be free. This is an interestill dichotomy. There is a subtle dance told in this lineage, between the idea and realities of justice and morality."     There is no answer to it, no opinion or stance. She finds herself too young to likely have value to add to the endless debate. What is right vs. what is legal. And of course who decides each.     "And this is working towards the part of the tale I am more familiar with. It is no shock, I suppose, that the American media is most interested in the industrial pursuits of your family."
Damian Wayne	"If you wish me to stop there, I will." Damian comments lightly. His tone is meant to coax and tease her. He's caught on how eager she's become for information. And with that, he does continue the story, rather than stringing her along. "Thomas, as the junior of Thomas Patrick, felt his calling in medicine, not business. He would become one of the most well-respected and philanthropic elites in Gotham." "He would meet Martha Kane, another social elite and the two would marry. They had one child, Bruce. My father. After their deaths..." because he assumes by now that Clara is well-versed on that part of the story, "...Bruce was orphaned and raised by Alfred Pennyworth, our family butler. During one of his trips, he met Talia al-Ghul, and would have an affair with her. It is from that affair that I was concieved. And that is where we are now." He moves to close the book and sets it on the table, allowing Clara to touch, open and explore as she wants with it. "My family has a rich history of wanting to do what's just and right. But also to reach out to those that cannot be otherwised assisted. Many of my siblings have taken up children's rights or the crusade to end poverty. I believe more in the fair treatment and rescue of endangered species and I am a major patron of many zoos and wildlife foundations."
Clara Jennings	She wrinkles her nose at the teasing and laughs softly. It is rather obvious what she likes, and she clearly takes pleasure in his playfulness. She does point out, "I think I would enjoy listening to you all night and several more."     The story, though, goes on, and she attends him more carefully. While her exploration of the document is detailed, her study of his face exceeds it. His eyes are remarkable. She saw them before, of course. She appreciated them. In this moment, though, engulfed in the history of his family and wrapped up in the magic of his voice, she finally understands what it means to be lost.     It is an edge she walks, up to this moment, pretending that she has the reins of her heart. That she will decide just how far and how fast to fall. But the edge does not share her patience and it laughs at her ignorance and arrogance. It swallows her up, whether she will or no.     "I know it was a long time ago, but you have my condolences. Truly. To be denied the love of your grandparents is a painful thing." One which she knows all too well.     It does not escape her that she has this in common with Damian, and the loss of her parents in common with his father.     The book, then, is presented. She does not reach out to touch it. Not immediately. She opens her bag and draws out a long, slender case from it. This is opened.     Inside the case are a pair of gloves, which she puts on. Only then will she say, "With your permission, of course..." With confirmation, she at last picks up the book.     She knows how to handle valuable artifacts, and her study of them goes beyond the words and provenance, but to the materials and the making.     "I truly appreciate you sharing this all with me, Damian. They simply do not make books like they used to, and the full story of your lineage is incredible."     As she appreciates the object he has brought to her, though, her focus grows more and more on the man. "I had learned a bit about your interests in wildlife. Justice again for those who cannot defend themselves. Are there some animals you favor more than others, or is the love more universal?"
Damian Wayne	"I will have to find reasons for us to spend the time together to converse throughout the night and other ways to entertain ourselves." Damian says smoothly as he takes her words and runs with them, just to see what she may react to the idea with. "Thank you. I appreciate your warm thoughts on my well-being, but as I was denied the opprotunity to meet them, I can only accept their memory as it is presented to me." he decides to settle upon. But his brows arch when she takes out the gloves so that she may study the book and he gives a nod of his head. "Yes, of course. I appreciate the extra effort." And his eyes reflect that gratefullness, a light pat of the top of her thigh under the table only meant to convey that thought. He would not blame her if she read into it, though. "I was happy to share it with you. You showed such interest when we were moving across the dance floor, I figured you would appreciate my company..." Despite that confidence he carries, that seemed almost shy. But when the conversation turns to his love of animals, he thinks on this. "There is a farm on the Manor grounds and I care for quite a few of the animals there, including the horses. Perhaps we could go riding together sometime." he suggests to her. But to answer the question, he chuckles. "I find, honestly, that I tend to get along better with animals than people. I have issues with anxiety and crowds and I get nervous in groups." he explains. "So if I can give back to that which has provided me so much comfort, I am glad to give what I can back to them." There's a grin as he finally moves to put the book away. "You realize, Clara..." he suggests to her, looking thoughtful. "This means on our next meeting, you will have to share some of your history with me." Yes, he could ask her to do so now. But. This way, she may realize he's suggesting that they go out again?
Clara Jennings	If Damian were to read her mind and carefully plan out everything she wished to hear in this moment he could scarcely do better. Clara yearns to be with him again. She is only starting to fully understand the nature of this craving. While that comprehension will grow swiftly in time, he does much to help her down the path.     One thing that stands out to her, though, is the strangest of things. Even now, with their bodies touching, with him here, talking to her, she hurts. The pain is knowing that at some point, he must go back to the manor and she to her apartment. It is inescapable and painful that he will say things today that she does not hear. He will smile and she will not see it. He will close his eyes and rest and while they sleep at the same time, they will not be sharing the same air. It's a pain unlike anything she has ever known, and it explodes through her.     It is good fortune her eyes are on the book. Tears threaten to come before she manages to hold them back. Her expression, too, will shift, if just for a moment, as she endures this emotion for the first time.     Then like magic he touches her thigh and it vanishes. In its place is a warmth every bit as powerful. It is as calming as her earlier fear was terrifying. It creeps into her tone, which is softer, almost fragile.     "I adore your company, Damian. I rather hate the thought that I shall soon be without it again."     The admission only calls back the fear and pain again. Sharp as any sword, but she holds it at bay just as she would in a more mundane contest. She has so many questions for herself now.     They must wait.     "I have never ridden a horse, but I would very much like to learn, if you would suffer to teach me."     The playful mention of it being her turn next time is met with an uncertain smile. "I shall do my best, though I fear my family history is a little bit more mundane a tale. Still, I know at least one fine swindler and womanizer whose history stands out amongst the other more boring but less offensive of my forebears."
Damian Wayne	"It sounds exciting." Damian admits with a laugh and a shake of his head. "I had worried at some point that I would have bored you to sleep." His voice is light and airy, a tease to it as he takes the book, his hand brushing over her still gloved one before he sets it back within it's bag to seal it away for the transport back home. Which is really the only reason that they have to part. And then he looks powerfully amused. "I wish to learn more about your world, Clara." he points out to her. "I want to see the story you weave and where we may learn to intertwine our words and story and see what blossoms from it." he comments to her. "So, the date after the next date, I will take you riding." He just said the 'd' word. But there's date and Dating, and date is where it is settled for now. Of course, there's that dirty rumor of what happens after three dates. "Along with your story, Clara... I am placing myself in your hands. I would like to see what you will wish to present to me as an enjoyable evening. I promise I will not be disappointed." he says to her sincerely. And with that, the ball is in her court.
Clara Jennings	The date after the next... Clara's heart delivers a kind of singular stroke, like a rushed beating of a timpani at the conclusion of a song. Two dates are assured, then. The future is never certain, but she will make these count.     "You never bore me. And two more dates sounds like a wonderful start." She rather hopes to count this one, as well, in the collection. She pays no mind to society's suggestions of what might occur after three dates.     She grins and reaches into her bag. She draws out a flier and slides it over to Damian. On it is her picture. It is an action shot, of her standing in front of a blackboard. It is covered with her fine script in chalk. It appears this flier is for a lecture. The topic of the lecture is Mongolian epic poetry, particularly the Jangar and the Geser.     "This is my work," she explains. "It is not my idea for our date, but perhaps afterward would be a good time to meet."     The lecture occurs after the New Year, of course, on January 4. It is being offered at Gotham University, free for all students and the public. Donations to the university are of course welcomed.     This does call into question a most important point for Clara. He has mentioned two dates, and if that should be the second, it would mean her lips and his may be far apart when the year ends.     "I imagine you have plans for New Years," she begins. "However, if you do not, perhaps you would forgive me for setting that as our second date and leaving the lecture as our fourth?" The horse riding she is looking so much forward to being the third, of course.
Damian Wayne	"Good, because when I am with you, I find that conversation does come far more easier than when I am... not." Damian admits as he decides to take a chance on Clara. They can revisit where they stand after a few dates. Re-evaluate, figure out what it is that they are seeking. When she pulls out the flier, he has a curious look, but when he reads it over, he's already pulling his phone, looking it over as he considers the calendar. "At the moment, I am free on the fourth. I would be happy to be in attendance for your lecture, Clara." he offers to her. "And we can do something afterwards, of course." So he is assuming that the fourth is their next date. That is until she changes things up and talks about other times. "Oh!" he says, and a laugh bubbles up from him, "Yes, well, I would be happy to see you when you're ready before the first of the year, of course. And just make sure you give me enough notice to have the horses saddled and ready for your visit." And time to coax Goliath, his dragon, into hiding. He does not want to have to explain that to her yet. Because that is a whooool other story. "My plans for the New Year are currently fluid for the moment. With family events and all, I am not sure I could commit to anything, but I'll let you know?" he asks her, a hint of apology in his voice.
Clara Jennings	His reply pleases her up until there is that bit of bad news. But before that comes, she has so much to be happy about. She remains close, and finds herself somehow even more focused on him. It is perhaps amusing to note that she has forgotten her tea the entire time. It sits now, stone cold, where she left it on the other side of the table. A pity, truly. The first cup she drank was quite good.     "It is certainly acceptable that you duck out, should it prove too dry," she says. She hates to corner him into doing something that might prove boring to him. That she would happily listen to him read the ingredients of toothpaste is not lost on her, though.     She feels rather self conscious suddenly. There's a blush, brighter than before, that leaves her face quite pink. She is imagining, in this moment, that he will help her onto her horse. Imagination being free of all reasonable restraints, she further wonders what it would be like to share a saddle with him.     That soft, welcome haze of joy is disrupted, however, by the thought that New Years may be a wish too far. She conceals her disappointment well, though her words come somewhat awkwardly.     "Oh, yes, well, I rather imagined that you would be busy. Still, should there be any surprise changes please do call on me. I would be delighted to welcome the New Year at your side."
Damian Wayne	"I'll let you know, I promise." Damian says as he squeezes her hand, trying to be reassuring. He just doesn't know. He could be on patrol that night. Gotham does get a little wild on New Year's, admittedly. "And I do not duck out of things that I promise to attend." he points out, a small thinning of his lips, but he lets it slide. "For now, though, I should return this book back to the library. And to get the chance to return this to you." Reaching into the messenger bag, he pulls out a shoe, and presents it to her. "I believe it would fit." he admits to her quietly. "I just wonder what it means." Does he not know the story of Cinderella? Or does he want her to realize... The kiss to her cheek is soft, warm, and fleeting. If she was not paying attention, she may actually miss out on it. Afterwards, he moves to his feet and gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You know how to reach me, when you're ready." he comments, before he's heading out of the shop and to the street beyond.
Clara Jennings	Clara smiles reassuringly. And he comforts her, which does much to make her feel better. There's never a doubt that he wants to be with her. He leaves no room for it to grow.     "I will look forward to seeing you at the lecture, then. Oh, and I tend to get rather nervous, so before the start I tend to hide in an office to prepare. Do not be worried if I am not in view beforehand."     She is calming down. Growing more comfortable. She is just starting to feel like she knows where this is going and at what pace when her shoe is brought out. Broken as it is, it does perhaps make sense to question its purpose.     Her posture straightens slightly and she does not take the shoe from him. Instead, she replies gently, "If you are not yet sure what it means, I would prefer you-" and she is cut off. His motion is swift, like the light touch which plces the dot of an exclamation point at the end of a sentence.     She freezes there for a moment and her cheek blossoms in a gentle pink. Slowly her eyes turn to follow him and she realizes she is holding her shoe. She cannot recall taking it.     Then his hand is on her shoulder and his words... those parting words. When she is ready? She will be lost in their meaning. For now, though, she's so flabbergasted she cannot begin to unrwap them.     "I will count the seconds, Damian," she says gently. And then he is gone, soon out of sight, and her gaze falls to the shoe.     Clara does not stay long. She does not wish to be bothered. There is so much on her mind.