#4ger

High heels on the carpetted floor make little to no noise as the tall queen strutted her way towards one specific table. The dinner show had been over a couple hours ago and the theater's center had been transformed into a small, intimate dancefloor while the tables had been left at the clients disposition all around. Hyacinthe was sitting with her sisters at a table, discussing with clients who dared approached them when one of them had told her this man was still staring at her.

Much like most of them, drag gave her enough confidence to approach the stranger - she had never seen him in the cabaret. "You've been staring at me the entire evening," she declared once she reached him, hands down on the table, leaning down towards him. "If you want to ask me out, you can just ask." The problem was, he did not look all that friendly at all. Even less flirty.

this phrase had oftentimes been uttered , those who uttered said words his way were oftentimes met with a look that was blank and somewhat suspicious. from a tender age he had known that there were those who only aimed to get exactly what they wanted by placating whatever the youngest heir asked for. boarding school was a learning experience , the media adding their own cruel twist on the fact that ? he was loved for the billions he had.

now , in a room that overlooks gotham center city he hears eames utter the words that from anyone else would cause a sharp tongue , and words that were dipped in disgust. instead , bruce allows the smallest laugh - the pair of them working together , - ' are you that jaded eames ? ' though humor sits and his brow cocks , ' apparently you and i are used to being bought ... or perhaps , hmm how do i word this - ' a pause taken for dramatic affect , ' being exactly what others want us to be ' bruce stands , and reaches for ipad. ' can't say you're wrong in saying such a thing , your talent is extraordinary while mine ? mine is just money '

i wonder if he's been tracked down , and while i plan to recruit him for my own cause i know what it's like to be needed for a mere transaction. business has made me wiser , though the pull of another (one who lingers in moonlight) has taught me compassion , and the idea that nothing is what it seems. there are those who think that having a softness about you is weak - i prefer to think of it as courage. an outright defiance of gotham herself. turning to windows i see her fingerprints upon glass. watching as she does , and my duplicity has become easier. i allow parts to become whole. between us , there are no lies and if we are to work together i prefer to keep it that way.

his full name is eliot luke cardale. his first name was his mother's decision.

from far away he can hear FOOTSTEPS , @4ger ? he pays no mind to it , the gold from the windows blinds him of ANY worry . it's peaceful here , peaceful at last .

the door opens the same MOMENT he opens his eyes ― when did he closed them ? ― immediately LAUNCHING him into a sitting position .

"i didn't know you had a curfew." several things about anne must seem foreign to him these days ; that's what a few years without seeing someone in person will do. she's taller. her voice is rougher, cigarette-singed on the edges. she wears her hair short, cut about the chin rather than the bedraggled ribboned ponytails her mother had insisted on when she was still little enough that her mother did her hair. gone entirely are the skirts and dresses, frilly and impractical, replaced with sensible looking slacks and a brown wool tweed coat that seems to be swallowing her whole.

it would be easier to list the things that are the same. there is a specific sort of glint to her eyes that has always been anne, and the acerbic tone of her voice doesn't have the bite to actually make it mean.