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Whumptober Prompts: 01 Shaky Hands
Jun. 10th, 2020 06:37 pmYears of habit drive him to the keyboard as soon as he's physically able. The encounter with Ivy is still fresh in his memory and accurately capturing details is a compulsive pursuit. The tremor in both his hands is more than distracting however. He's finding it difficult to type, striking wrong keys with irritating regularity. The frustrated sound that forms at the back of his throat is a mistake and immediately it triggers a coughing fit that seizes his lungs and binds his chest. At the far end of the desk is the inhaler he's been taking since removing himself from more industrial breathing treatments.
He doesn't reach for it.
He doesn't reach for it.
After The Funeral
May. 13th, 2020 11:13 pmHe trudges back to the jet long after the funeral is over, after Martha, Diana, Lois, and even the groundskeepers have departed. A great emptiness has taken hold of him, the surreal calm of emotional and physical exhaustion at odds with the growing list of things to be done when they reach home. The others need to be found, hopefully with Diana's assistance, but there's nothing that can be done in the moment. The days and events that have come to pass are rapidly catching up to him. Sleep and antibiotics for the infected shoulder wound are on his horizon.
Without shedding his overcoat or suit jacket, he deposits himself in the only seat directly opposite Alfred, who's been waiting all this time. No word of greeting is offered, instead only an expression forlorn.
Without shedding his overcoat or suit jacket, he deposits himself in the only seat directly opposite Alfred, who's been waiting all this time. No word of greeting is offered, instead only an expression forlorn.
The Wood Pile
Oct. 23rd, 2018 05:29 pmThere was remarkably little about the new house Alfred found appealing. It lacked history, privacy, and any sense of aesthetic character, fulfilling every aspect of its original design. The lines were harsh and the glass walls lent an impersonal, cold touch. Its ostentatious nature screamed 'new money', the antithesis of the once beautiful and spacious manor. Only one concession had graduated past multiple architectural drafts to the final schematics. In addition to the radiant floor heating, a single fireplace had been installed in the living room, large enough to heat the entire home. Much to his delight. For it was really the only feature that brought him joy. The kitchen was a postage stamp and the appliances were arranged in no logical manner. Alfred harbored the secret belief that the house had indeed been purposefully designed to drive him away. In a way, it had worked. He didn't live in the house any more than Master Wayne.
He swung the axe, splitting a log from a tree felled on the property. The individual pieces flew in opposite directions off the stump, the last two for the season. The leg wound had set him behind by several weeks and the leaves all around him had begun to turn. Green faded to yellow and red. Soon they would litter the ground and the breeze would drop from cool to cold. He huffed an exhale of satisfaction, and straightened, surveying the uneven pile of wood surrounding him. Two cords, he estimated. Perhaps even three. A summer's worth of effort.
Yet his work was far from done.
He swung the axe, splitting a log from a tree felled on the property. The individual pieces flew in opposite directions off the stump, the last two for the season. The leg wound had set him behind by several weeks and the leaves all around him had begun to turn. Green faded to yellow and red. Soon they would litter the ground and the breeze would drop from cool to cold. He huffed an exhale of satisfaction, and straightened, surveying the uneven pile of wood surrounding him. Two cords, he estimated. Perhaps even three. A summer's worth of effort.
Yet his work was far from done.
It's Not Just The Waiting That Kills Him
Apr. 14th, 2018 05:05 pmHe broke every speed limit between Gotham and Bludhaven that evening. Then there was nothing to do but wait.
The reader board in the surgical center had changed formats. It no longer listed names, just patient numbers and their current stage. The number was the first piece of information they'd received beyond the initial phone call and Bruce had memorized it instantly. As he paced the waiting room with his arms crossed tightly against his chest, his eyes traveled to the status board regularly. Sometimes the information would rotate through to a second screen and the information he was seeking wouldn't be there when he glanced up. For that brief second, he fought back panic.
Alfred had glued himself to the nurse's station, bypassing the information desk. If anyone could coax extra information out of the staff, it was the eloquently spoken and insistant gentleman. Bruce glanced in his direction regularly as well drawing strength from afar.
An hour after arriving, there was still no word.
He finally took a seat. And dropped his head into his hands.
The reader board in the surgical center had changed formats. It no longer listed names, just patient numbers and their current stage. The number was the first piece of information they'd received beyond the initial phone call and Bruce had memorized it instantly. As he paced the waiting room with his arms crossed tightly against his chest, his eyes traveled to the status board regularly. Sometimes the information would rotate through to a second screen and the information he was seeking wouldn't be there when he glanced up. For that brief second, he fought back panic.
Alfred had glued himself to the nurse's station, bypassing the information desk. If anyone could coax extra information out of the staff, it was the eloquently spoken and insistant gentleman. Bruce glanced in his direction regularly as well drawing strength from afar.
An hour after arriving, there was still no word.
He finally took a seat. And dropped his head into his hands.
It's murder on the leather but he does it anyway. Jamming the topline like they were a pair of cheap sneakers, he slips off his dress shoes and pushes them away. The sigh of relief is inaudible. His feet have mostly recovered from the effects of the frostbite but they still don't feel comfortable while confined. So he's taken to padding around in his socks while behind closed doors in his office. It's the first time he's done it at the conference table. The enormous round of mahogany is hiding the fact he's shed a layer.
He drops his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, looking very much like he's tuning out, fulfilling the widely held expectations of the others around him. The truth is he's already read their reports. In depth.
His cell phone vibrates in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and he pulls it out lazily, lowering it and his gaze to his lap. Like his feet, the screen is now obscured by the tabletop.
He drops his head back against the chair and closes his eyes, looking very much like he's tuning out, fulfilling the widely held expectations of the others around him. The truth is he's already read their reports. In depth.
His cell phone vibrates in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and he pulls it out lazily, lowering it and his gaze to his lap. Like his feet, the screen is now obscured by the tabletop.
The Birth Of An Idea
Mar. 26th, 2018 11:16 pmThe conversation may be over but Bruce's mind continues to turn the subject over, even on the subconscious level. His overactive dreams are full of symbolism and future potential horrors. The child hasn't even been conceived yet and already the questions are overwhelming. What kind of powers would a Human-Kryptonian hybrid possess? Would he or she have the same kind of strengths and weaknesses as their full-bred father? Which physical traits would be dominant? Is a combination of genes even possible? Would Lois be able to carry the baby to term? Would a superpowered child rip her apart from the inside? The risks are many.
Underlying it all are his own feelings. He knows what it means to be a father, all the proud moments mixed with the trials and tribulations, the uncertainties interwoven with the achievements. There's nothing so unpredictable as parenthood. Nothing so rewarding.
He starts his research, not knowing what he'll find.
Underlying it all are his own feelings. He knows what it means to be a father, all the proud moments mixed with the trials and tribulations, the uncertainties interwoven with the achievements. There's nothing so unpredictable as parenthood. Nothing so rewarding.
He starts his research, not knowing what he'll find.
Dick's birthday falls in the middle of their trip to the vacation house, a detail not unplanned. So when Leslie is unexpectedly called for other legitimate reasons, a discrete phone call is placed to Alfred, who'd scheduled himself to arrive the morning of the 21st as a surprise. Instead he drives himself up early with Leslie as his passenger.
They're all together and the presents are simple save for one. A movie night, enough popcorn to go around, and three more bags of marshmallows. Tim gives him the present they've all had a hand in making, a scrapbook full of pictures from Dick's life. From loving parents now gone to the present day family that surrounds him.
They're all together and the presents are simple save for one. A movie night, enough popcorn to go around, and three more bags of marshmallows. Tim gives him the present they've all had a hand in making, a scrapbook full of pictures from Dick's life. From loving parents now gone to the present day family that surrounds him.
In Remembrance
Feb. 21st, 2018 08:09 pmThe alleyway is home to dumpsters and metal garbage cans, trash littering its old cobblestones. It's gotten worse over the years and it makes his heart ache to see it this way. It's a part of Gotham with a rich history, overrun by the criminal class. The theater that used to lay at the end is closed, abandoned and decaying. The seats have been stripped away and what remains inside is moldy from extensive water damage. On several occasions he's thought about buying it and tearing it down. Or rebuilding it. He's never been able to make a decision. So it stands. Barely standing.
It's in this very spot where his nightmares were born. His impressionable mind witnessed the worst horror and his adult mind has formed around it. He can still hear his mother screaming and the sound of shots being fired. Crouching in blood and pearls, weeping first with fear and then woe. It seems he's never left this place. Inside himself, he takes it everywhere.
It's in this very spot where his nightmares were born. His impressionable mind witnessed the worst horror and his adult mind has formed around it. He can still hear his mother screaming and the sound of shots being fired. Crouching in blood and pearls, weeping first with fear and then woe. It seems he's never left this place. Inside himself, he takes it everywhere.
Working Through
Feb. 13th, 2018 10:02 amThe drive north is thankfully uneventful but the next few days that follow are not. Having already overly taxed himself, Jason has little left to fight the infection that asserts itself and stubbornly resists the first round of antibiotics. The fever leaves his brief moments awake a hell of undulating hot and cold. Despite his misery, the underlying sense of security remains. All around him is Alfred's space, Alfred's possessions, Alfred's presence and the comfort that comes with being cared for. A coolness descends upon his forehead at regular intervals and familiar voices just loud enough to be heard dance just outside of his comprehension. Only at one point does he vaguely begin to register a sense of anxiety building around him. A third voice comes and goes. It's a woman's voice he should know but can't find the brainpower to place. She's gone again when next he wakes to the haze. The cycle perpetuates for close to eighty hours.
Soon after the fever breaks, Bruce privately breathes a sigh of relief, suits up, and heads out into the night. Early the next morning, he can be found seated in front of the computer screens minus the cowl with only the bats and his thoughts to keep him company. He's been productive but admittedly distracted, Jason foremost on his mind.
Soon after the fever breaks, Bruce privately breathes a sigh of relief, suits up, and heads out into the night. Early the next morning, he can be found seated in front of the computer screens minus the cowl with only the bats and his thoughts to keep him company. He's been productive but admittedly distracted, Jason foremost on his mind.
Beneath A Full Moon
Feb. 12th, 2018 07:17 pmThe lakeside house has a deck he's used only a handful of times. Most nights he's looking down from atop skyscrapers or situated underground in front of a host of computer screens. Tonight he's lounging in a chair with his foot elevated, his gaze turned upwards toward the full moon. It's a spectacular sight above the water through the trees. He meant to retreat indoors hours ago but just hasn't gotten there yet.
A second chair sits empty beside him.
A second chair sits empty beside him.
ooc: "No, I'm Batman!"
Feb. 11th, 2018 10:27 am [This happened this morning over Legos. My house is never dull.]
My 4 year old daughter: "I'm BATMAN!!!"
My 8 year old son: "No. I'm Batman!" *his Batman facing her Batman*
4: "No! We're both Batman!"
Me: "I'm Batman."
8: "You're Penguin."
4: "We need nachos!"
8: "Batman eats nachos."
4: *starts to hum the BTAS theme*
My 4 year old daughter: "I'm BATMAN!!!"
My 8 year old son: "No. I'm Batman!" *his Batman facing her Batman*
4: "No! We're both Batman!"
Me: "I'm Batman."
8: "You're Penguin."
4: "We need nachos!"
8: "Batman eats nachos."
4: *starts to hum the BTAS theme*
Too Old To Die Young
Jan. 28th, 2018 10:19 pmHe's never been so relieved to be proven wrong. In retrospect, he can identify the simple leaps and assumptions that led him to the incorrect conclusion. A hefty dose of fear ignited the fire and from there, he drew connections where there were none. Alfred reassures him in no uncertain terms that he's well and even goes so far as to explain away some of what Bruce has witnessed.
Hours later after he's had time to digest, he realizes the thought of outliving Alfred terrifies him in ways nothing else can.
Hours later after he's had time to digest, he realizes the thought of outliving Alfred terrifies him in ways nothing else can.
Generations of Family
Jan. 18th, 2018 11:02 am"Make yourself at home," she's told him on more than one occasion. Still he finds it difficult to do so despite the sincerity of her offer. There's no pretense with Martha Kent and it's one of the many things he admires about her. Her son has the same quality. As she says good night and ascends the stairs to bed, he can hear a shower running. Old houses. Old pipes. Noises uninsulated. Parts of the manor were the same way. It's a comforting collection of sounds.
He settles himself down on the sofa and glances across the coffee table at a green covered book. It's old with a three ring binding. He suspects a photo album. Forcing himself to take her directions to heart, he leans forward and opens it to the first page. Black and whites comprise the first eight or nine pages. Then he beginnings to see faces he recognizes in others. The woman looking back at him with her hair pulled into a tight bun can't be anyone but Martha's mother. Maybe an aunt, he corrects himself.
He settles himself down on the sofa and glances across the coffee table at a green covered book. It's old with a three ring binding. He suspects a photo album. Forcing himself to take her directions to heart, he leans forward and opens it to the first page. Black and whites comprise the first eight or nine pages. Then he beginnings to see faces he recognizes in others. The woman looking back at him with her hair pulled into a tight bun can't be anyone but Martha's mother. Maybe an aunt, he corrects himself.
Reaching Out
Jan. 12th, 2018 08:55 amThe incoming call is from an unfamiliar number but the area code is easily identifiable. The individual on the other end isn't from Gotham proper but from the outlying area north across the water. If it goes to voicemail, he'll leave no message.
The Whole Tetrazzini
Dec. 30th, 2017 02:47 pmSometimes he's at work. Or still sleeping. But when lunchtime finds him awake and present, he shares a meal with Alfred in the small kitchen. It's a throwback to an old tradition, one he'd let lapse some years ago. But his relationship with the older man has been under considerable strain lately and mending the bridge has come in the form of small gestures and odd compromises. Bringing him coffee. Staying in at night. Returning to an open dialogue instead of answering with silence. The downward spiral has ceased but the damage to those around him has been done.
The tetrazzini was delicious, more meat than noodles with a generous helping of cheese baked on top. The rest is keeping warm in the oven for Barbara. He's forcing himself through the Gotham Free Press but the back of his brain is turning over the encryption project, convinced it's the correct path to follow. Enemies become allies. Allies can become enemies.
The tetrazzini was delicious, more meat than noodles with a generous helping of cheese baked on top. The rest is keeping warm in the oven for Barbara. He's forcing himself through the Gotham Free Press but the back of his brain is turning over the encryption project, convinced it's the correct path to follow. Enemies become allies. Allies can become enemies.
The Root of Knowledge
Dec. 16th, 2017 10:18 pmWhen he rose from his seat at the temporary conference table, it was mid-conversation, the issue unresolved. In surprise, debate came to a abrupt stop. When he offered no explanation, they dared ask no questions. As he retreated, their attention eventually returned to the matter at hand and the discussion picked back up. They attributed his rude behavior to arrogance or disinterest.
The truth was simple.
He just wanted a chance to wrap his broken ribs.
The truth was simple.
He just wanted a chance to wrap his broken ribs.
