Owner	Pose
Clark Kent	There's only one way Superman would ever venture into the Batcave: and that is with the express permission of Batman himself. In fact, Superman is cautious of Gotham as a whole, with a respectful attitude towards a man he considers his friend. With that welcome in front of him, Superman glides down and flies into the lower hidden entrance to the Batcave, no doubt setting off all manner of security and sensors. He doesn't hide himself, and he doesn't come in like a rocket: just a leisurely flight path, deliberately predictable. Superman is not dressed in his blue and red suit: all of that is still benched. Superman has not worn it since he died in it, at least not in public view. He's dressed casually: blue jeans, dark boots, and a royal blue hoodie. He glides down to land, and draws this hood back off of his dark hair, just a little windblown, to look around him. The hoodie back, and the posture, the manner, the flight: it is blatantly clear who he is. And all scans will agree that it's Superman.
Bruce Wayne	"You're not very good at being incognito." Batman's voice is sepulchural. It resonates hollowly from walls and crevasses. The bats in the cavern rustle and fall silent after a few moments, stirred momentarily by Batman's resonate baritone. The vigilante himself is sitting at the banks of computer monitors in the 'command center' of the Bat-Cave. The sheer amount of information is staggering. Video clips of criminals fighting, news reports, statistics, even an AI-cultivated scraping of Twitter and social media to alert Batman to the goings-on of Gotham's citizens. When Superman draws near the large chair scoots backwards and pivots to face him. Batman, sans cowl, looks up at Clark with a wholly unreadable expression. "Only a limited number of metahumans with your abilities," he points out. His diction is clipped, abrupt. Someone less familiar with Batman's ways would read it as 'curt'. Clark, at least, might recognize that Batman's being polite in bothering to focus his attention on his guest and away from his duties. "Keep it up. Someone will recognize you." There's a chime from a distance, the sound of the elevator descending from Wayne's penthouse loft overhead. "Alfred's bringing cucumber sandwiches," Batman notes, and gets to his feet to walk towards an immaculately tidied workbench in anticipation of the food arriving.
Dick Grayson	It's not Alfred with the cucumber sandwiches. Since he decided to sick a PI on Bruce's latest love interest -- that of one Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson was feeling more than a little bit guilty. Not that he did it, mind you! Just that he didn't tell Bruce first. "Someone's worked up an appetite!" Dick is announcing as he carries the tray. "I had Alfred whip me up a ham and cheese I hope you don't mind...." And he trails off. There's precious few people that know of the Batcave's location. And Bruce's relaxed posture -- relaxed for //him// mind you -- has Nightwing staring for a moment, as he looks up at the computers, and the confirmation. And the tray drops with a clatter to the ground, spilling cucumbers, ham and cheese and bread in a messy massacre that leaves the ward of Bruce Wayne staring. "Holy resurrected capes, Batman." he manages, a whisper of reverence in his voice.
Clark Kent	Superman smiles at the back of the chair as Batman describes the current flaws in Superman's attire. "Perhaps that's ultimately what I'd like, deep down," Superman replies evenly, inclining his head as he watches the large chair turn. Superman's expression drops out of serious politeness into a more comfortable expression. It's been a while, and he is glad to see his friend. It isn't hidden any more than his identity is. "That's mainly what I've come to talk to you about." That identity thing. Superman being alive. "....It's good to see you again." Genuine, honest, that is. He IS glad. Superman crosses to walk over towards the workbench to meet Batman there, hands resting in the pockets of the royal blue hoodie, and some slight tension eases away from the body language. Tension for unknown reasons, perhaps. He orients towards the sound of the elevator, of course Superman would hear it, but doesn't fully turn. "Cucumber?" Superman started to inquire with curious interest, and then Dick has arrived on the scene. Superman smiles at him, with a quiet apology in it. As if he were apologetic for startling him by the fact that he's alive.
Bruce Wayne	Batman just stares levelly at Dick until his ward gets his flustered demeanour under control. Volumes of mild disapproval are spoken in that glance-- not just at the clattering din, but Dick's clumsy reaction to the stunning revelation. Still, he doesn't dismiss his ward, or otherwise rebuke him. "You're preparing to go public with your revival," Batman remarks. It's more statement than question. "Dangerous time. Luthor's been pressing hard on his 'No Superman' campaign. Wants to censure all metas. Vigilantes next. Your return would give his campaign a lot of spin control." Bruce digs around in a mini-fridge for a pre-blended protein shake. Precisely 500 calories and with a rigorously calculated ratio of macronutrients. None is offered for either of his guests of the moment.
Dick Grayson	Look. He was dead. Even Bruce said he was dead. Or rather, he didn't deny it. And then he's looking from Clark to Bruce, and Dick's lips pull into a thin line. His eyes narrow critically as he sets his hands on hips, and his attention falls flat on Bruce. "I swear, if this is a Bat-Superman Robot or Clone, I'm having Bruce Wayne committed." There's no heat in his tone, he's just trying to recover from this revelation. And to be honest, who wants to lay even money that Bruce probably has a Bat-Superman Robot someplace?
Clark Kent	Superman wryly smiles towards Dick's quip. "If such a thing exists, I might agree," he says, though the joke falls a little flatly. He isn't a clone or robot, though he can appreciate the fun there. He gives Dick another steady look, empathetic, and answers Batman instead: "Yes. My instinct is to return fully... now that I'm ready. To again lend as much aid as I am able," Superman replies to Batman's stark assessment of what could occur if he goes public. He adjusts his shoulders back in a slow rotation, and then folds his arms securely across his broad torso. There's an 'aura' to superman that would be difficult to create out of a test tube. His personality as a presence of positivity, much as Batman's does for fear. They inspire very different things. How Superman has blended in anywhere must seem ridiculous: maybe he's just been sitting off on the south pole meditating about life and death? Superman hasn't asked for a protein shake. He probably won't ask for one, even if he wanted one: there's a politeness to Superman that would forbid such a thing. "But I'd appreciate your strategic viewpoint on this. I do not want to cause larger problems than if ...Superman remained deceased," Superman says, with a weight and curling, sad thing underneath his tone. He wants to do what is best, even if it might mean continuing to restrict his desire to help in a more direct way. "Still, ignoring cries for help, when I can respond, is not something I will do." Which explains the plane rescue, the battle with the giant crab-beast, and so forth.
Bruce Wayne	"Your inheritance disappears if I'm committed, disappear, or die unexpectedly," Batman tells Dick. It's told with a completely straight face; even Superman might have a hard time guessing if Batman is baiting Dick, joking, or just... being completely serious. He returns his attention to Superman, and then does something he rarely offers: a shrug. It's expressed in a minute roll of his shoulder and his chin jutting once to his left. Uncertainty. "Superman always causes larger problems," Batman reminds Clark. "That's his purpose. He is a lightning rod for trouble." Batman moves to the monitors and puts a larger image up on the overhead screens. It's a complex statistical analysis. Crime rates, natural disasters, political intrigue, government cover-ups. Anything that can be causatively linked to Superman's 'death' is displayed there. Batman, of course, doesn't offer to interpret it to anyone. Dick and Clark are, after all, perfectly capable of interpreting that bulk of data. Or in his estimation, they should be, anyway. Batman looks back at Dick, then at the mess on the floor, then back at Dick. His lips press minutely into a thin line of disapproval.
Dick Grayson	It's hard to tell if Bruce is joking, but he does have tells. "I'm getting it." Dick mutters as he gets over the initial shock finally and starts to clean up the mess that he made. He's not gonna be mouthy at the moment, because he wants to be, but because he has questions. "...the world's going to want to know why you didn't stop Genosha." he points out. It's not in anger or heat. "I was one of the first sets of boots on the ground in Hammer Bay." he admits quietly as he moves the tray with the ruined sandwiches to the side as he presses the intercom. "Alfred, I dropped the tray. Can we get more sandwiches, and a protein shake, please. Banana nut?" It's a guess. It's been a while. "When do you plan to go public? I assume this is a we don't talk about it thing until you do."
Clark Kent	"Speaking of data," Superman says, after scanning over the monitors. He looked quickly: a sudden burst of analysis showed in how quickly his eyes moved. It's subtle, but no doubt Batman is on top of noticing such a thing. "I have some related to why I didn't stop Genosha." There's a guilt there, a dismay, though it's indirect. More like the guilt of someone that was absent, not someone that directly dropped a tray of, say, sandwiches. Superman draws a data card out of his pocket, and flips it across towards Batman: it'll either land on the workbench, or the other man will catch it, most likely. "I intercepted a distress call in deep space. I investigated, and found it to be false, like a prank call. When I returned... Genosha was as it is. I've aided in rescue efforts, but... someone did not want me here, I believe. The coincidence is too high. I brought back the pod I found, and I was able to determine it is replicator tech: a replication of Earth materials, made to /appear/ to be from here. But it is not. I don't have an answer of who, but this is exceptionally rare technology, and it took time to decipher the nature of the duplication." It might feel like Superman was stalling from Dick's question. He returns to it, giving Dick his full attention for a quiet pause, a thoughtful distance in Superman's blue eyes. "I will go public when it is worth the 'lightning rod' downside. When I can do more good for the world than harm," Superman says. "I believe I did that in the case of Doomsday." And it cost Superman his life. "But I do know I am ready to help again. Whether it is under the Superman mantle, or not, for now."
Bruce Wayne	Batman's hand extends and he catches the datapad as smoothly as if the two of them had rehearsed it. The information's plugged into a workstation terminal and the vigilante takes a few seconds to examine it with a fast and flickering gaze. He can't integrate information as fast as a Kryptonian can (few sapients can, in fairness), but there are few minds on the planet more agile than Batman's at solving problems. He also doesn't rush to Superman's defense, any more than he tried to assist Dick. Batman's not the sort to offer help. When Dick finishes cleaning, Batman glances at him and gestures him over with a minute tilt of his head. The monitor's swung over to his ward and Batman steps clear of the data that Superman brought, to let his protege and former sidekick perform his own analysis. Batman might be the world's greatest detective, but one would be hard-pressed to discern a difference between himself and Nightwing when the younger of the two puts his own talents to work. Batman lifts one brow a fractional inch: deferring to the young detective of Bludhaven to come up with his own line of questions and conclusions for the Man of Steel.
Dick Grayson	There's a reason why Detective Dick Grayson is a rising star on the Bludhaven Police Force. Bruce trained him, but his own mind is analytical as he slips into the seat to glance over the data. But even he has to admit a little reluctantly. "This is some Tim level stuff, Bruce." he comments with a frown. But his attention is divided as he works. "You could do what I did. Change your name, change your costume, move out..." he grins. "...okay, the last one may be a little hard." There's grim amusement there, a cut of his eyes to his adopted father, before he's picking over the data. "...why would an alien want you off planet while Genosha was attacked. Unless they were working together, somehow."
Clark Kent	"Do you have a spare costume that would fit me?" Superman asks Dick in a deadpan, though there's a smile both in his voice and on his face. He is often extremely genuine about his emotions, and they show on Superman with a relaxed ease. "I could be a Flash with little effort." There's a joke to it, some amusement, but then a deep draw of breath, filling his large chest, and then released slowly and gently. The man could create a windstorm or freeze the console, but does none of that. Just soft air as he tkaes it in. "So, my first thought is that the Sentinels or something related to the attack might have the same replicator signatures on it. I have gotten a small sample of one of the Sentinels to test. Perhaps it is entirely an outside force. But my tests are still going... this is not an easy marker to track."
Bruce Wayne	"Someone already on Earth," Batman clarifies, a beat later. Dick's going in the right direction. Batman just nudges the train of thought furthur along. He looks to Dick and makes another small gesture, until he's confident his ward's either on the right train of thought or has jumped the track entirely. Then he looks back at Clark. "Perfect bait. Implies intelligent predator," he observes. "Familiar with your patterns and habits. Knows you're not dead, or strongly suspects it. Good knowledge of your abilities and possible psychological profiling. Can't confirm if this was opportunism or careful planning. Prudent not to discard either possiblity." Batman sips from his protein shake. "Raises questions about your ... country of origin, as well. Is this someone setting up an attack on Superman? Or just wanting him out of the way?" His eyes slide to the dossiere on the screen of the Man of Steel. Certain aspects are redacted and unavailable even to the most senior of the Batlings. Alter-ego, current status... ... and the vastly incorrect home of origin, listed as 'Midwestern USA'. Batman shrugs again at Superman, almost imperceptibly. Up to the Man of Steel to out himself to Nightwing, if he so chooses.
Dick Grayson	"I bet he has a Batsuit that would work. Or you know, you could be the new Boy Scout Wonder." Dick's tone is teasing, but his eyes are taking in all the information, his brows narrowed. "There's only a handful of people on Earth that have access to this type of tech and the knowhow to do it. Not only that -- who would /believe/ you were alive when the rest of the world knows you as dead." Dick's brows furrow in thought. "So either there's a traitor in our midsts..." No. That's not it. Then his eyes light up, jumping wide with realization. And only one word comes out of his mouth. "Lex."
Clark Kent	Superman has refolded his arms, and there's a slight motion of head when Batman casts that look at him. No, Krypton won't be brought up today. There's enough here to look at: if it's necessary, he'll consider it. There's a reason for the secrets, the protection. Or perhaps it is something else, a darker place that Superman has been fighting from the aftermath of his death. "I would not be comfortable pretending to be a Bat," Superman says with a brief smile. "Unless you specifically need to protect your identity; then I am available." He would only ever do it to assist, never for his own designs or purposes. Ever. "I believe Luthor thinks me dead. His actions suggest that. But I have misread him before," Superman admits. He is able to freely admit when he is wrong, just as he is able to look to allies for support, opinions, and help. He has finally come forward enough to be seeking that aid. "It's something to look at, if he made a 'friend'." Siiiigh.
Bruce Wayne	"High probability," Batman agrees, and nods at Nightwing. "Reasonable to assume Lex has malicious intentions," he observes to the other men. There are, of course, other possibilities, but nodding to them would do Superman's secret identity no favors. Nightwing's certainly capable of coming to his own conclusions, given time and incentive, and tantalizing him with a solution he couldn't come to would be tantamount to outing Superman's secret. Batman consumes the last of his protein shake. It's capped and put in a bin of recyclables to be taken back upstairs for re-use. "Don't discount others," Batman admonishes Nightwing. "Reed Richards or Tony Stark has sufficient technological expertise to create such a probe. Stark and Luthor are currently outsider candidates for President. An absentee Superman who failed to interdict with the Genosha incident could be spun to the benefit of either campaign. The first question anyone will ask is 'Where were you?'," Batman reminds Superman. "I'd have a good answer ready. Preferably one that is not 'I was tricked by space debris'."
Dick Grayson	"...Tony Stark opens his presidential campaign by nuking Genosha?" Dick asks, glancing aside at Bruce. "Damn, he dance with your girl at the prom or something?" he asks, a smirk tugging his features. "Unless something's taken over the Iron Man stuff, I don't see that happening." Mind you, he doesn't discount Reed Richards immediately. Though now at the new questions, he turns his attention away from the research to listen more intently.
Clark Kent	"If we can determine who chose to trick me, then perhaps I'll have the answer that way," Superman answers evenly. "As well as some justice to dispense on the one that did this to Genosha." There's a deliberate, firm look at Batman here: there may be difficulties between them now and then, but seeking Justice for the lives silenced is a banner to rally behind. His eyes move to Dick as well, including him in this. Superman seeks aid from /both/ of them, not just Batman. From any hero that feels the shocks of the massive death toll. And the need to act upon it. "If I learn more, I'll be in touch," Superman offers, with a tension passing through his squared jaw. "Would you prefer I contact in the same way, or a different communicator?" Superman asks. He well remembers the Bat's affinity for such tech. And perhaps he knows well enough Batman may put a tracker in it. And maybe that's something that isn't a problem.
Bruce Wayne	"Communicator is fine," Batman informs Clark. "I have updated designs ready, /if/ the League elects to re-assemble. Avengers seem to have things well in hand. Also several paramilitary groups of metahumans have been spotted in Genosha. Not sure we're needed. I have enough problems here in Gotham," he tells Superman, bluntly. Read: Batman's not going to come running just because someone whistles for him. "Make up your mind fast," he informs Superman. "You won't have long before someone else spots patterns and confirms facial recognition. A trip to your tombstone could clear up your alleged death very quickly." At that, he gives his friend a direct look. Read again: A cautionary note. Batman is concerned. Maybe. "I'll be in touch if we hear anything else." The tone carries a finality to it. Batman and Nightwing. 'We'. The Batlings. Always Gotham's First Family versus the rest of the world, if need be. Even for their allies. On that note, Batman returns to the computer station and resumes his work. He's not one for good luck or good-byes, it seems.
Dick Grayson	"Someone's gonna need to talk to Luthor. Perferrably on tape. Everyone has tells. That's one of the first things Bruce taught me." Dick says as he turns his attention fully away from the screen to two of his mentors since the day that he arrived at Wayne Manor. "What about that reporter girl that wrote about you all the time. What was her name... Lois?" he asks, looking between the two. "Get her up there with a camera, get his reaction of film, and we can read it in detail. See if he's lying or not." "But if he's playing the long game on this, we're going to have a lot more to deal with than Genosha and space probes. Guy's running for President after all." "...and his reaction to you being back may give us the clearest view we're ever going to get on his honest, complete reaction. Or you know..." "We could just produce the information to him, and ask him to help." And that's when Dick pauses. Looks aside to Bruce and groans. "I'm getting as bad as you." Then he gives Superman a grin. "It's good to see you back, though." he admits. Since Bruce seems to be calling the meeting, Dick turns his attention back to the information to help. "By the way..." Dick decides it's best to mention it off-hand to Bruce since he's safe with Superman here, right? "...I may have hired Jessica Jones to check on that woman that keeps asking you out. Selina?"
Bruce Wayne	"Kyle?" Obviously, Selina Kyle. Batman's face is only visible in data-scattered reflection on the monitors in front of him. The subtle tilt of his head in Dick's direction, though, speaks its own language of interest. A moment later he focuses on the monitors again. Silence hangs in the air for a half-beat. It's quite a poker tell from the World's Greatest Detective. Then again, Clark and Dick are one of a handful of people who know Batman well enough to pick up on the subtle motion at all. Let alone interpret it correctly. "Prudent. Jones is competent. When she's sober. And if you think miss Kyle is worth surveilling." For Dick, then, a read thus: Batman wholly pretending to not care at all about the socialite who has been on-and-off again in his personal orbit, more than once, over the last few years.
Dick Grayson	"Just keeping my inheritance safe, Bruce." Dick can play that game, too!
Clark Kent	"I appreciate your thoughts," Superman replies to the caution from Batman. Or whatever that was. He won't infringe on the Batlings or pressure them either way. "I am trying to handle this as best I can." All of the problems around his death, his recovery, all of it. The death alone was a lot, let alone the fallout. It shows on his face for a moment before he pushes it aside and resumes his more usual confident, pleasant front. Even so, it was less a weakness: and more a sense that Superman is human. In his way. And that is perhaps most important of all, in the long run. "When the time comes, we'll watch him," Superman directs to Dick, appreciative of his input, clearly. It's a vocal pat on the back from the kryptonian. "And I'll check in with Richards again... and some of the rest of the League." The former League. Superman steps back, lifting off. It's less regal with no cape, but still very Superman. There's a way he does it, the posture to it - there's been documentaries of a lot of footage containing Superman after his death. But he's there, alive, doing all of those motions. "One step at a time," Superman says, thoughtfully. It's a farewell of a sort. And then he's gone.