the woman was intrigued, dinosaurs are a guilty pleasure of her’s, a passion no soul knows about, but despite the controlled excitement, she didn’t give her acceptance outright. she proposed that an in person tour of the island was necessary before a decision was to be made, and who else better to send than herself ? 

it took six hours on the jet to costa rica, and from there she is joined at the helicopter by a man of recognition; heels click clack their way to a graceful approach, “ mr. wayne, what a surprise.. they wrangled you into this deal as well ? “ lips stretch into a smile as sweet as honeysuckle. “ glad to know i’ll be alongside someone i can share my opinions with that won’t give me the stink eye, “ because hammond seems the type that doesn’t handle criticism too well. 

        quite frankly, he was lounging in the bed like he owned it and by the looks of it, one agent solo had absolutely no intention to rise from the plush bedspread. it was obscenely comfortable --- the kind of sheets he’d enjoy sans clothing altogether, but he decided on some measure of decency, the clothing of choice being a silk robe he’d stolen from a hotel during his stay in prague. he had a marked adoration for larger beds, and far more adoration for blankets as heavenly as the one he found himself settled on.

        the body beside him was a welcome addition, of course; brows arched as he watched thomas push himself upright and explain, and yes --- color him quite impressed. ceaselessly a fan of the expensive, higher quality sort of lifestyle, he quickly realized that he would stop at nothing to find himself here again. it was a matter of whether or not wayne was very welcoming of a particular gentleman making himself right at home.

        then again, it likely wasn’t a surprise, at this point.

         ❝ certainly not everyone, ❞ he countered, and god help him, it was rather akin to a purr. he had discerning tastes. it just so happened that this man seemed to strike his fancy, and when there was something he sought, he would get it. be it a famous oil painting, or a lovely string of pearls, or, apparently, a man with impressive bank and sinful features. and he wasn’t blind, either; judging by the way his gaze lingered, solo could gather that he painted quite a pretty picture lounging in his bed. he grinned.

         ❝ you know, thomas, if you see something you like, by all means, ❞ oh, and this was precisely his area of expertise. he knew exactly how to charm a woman, how to tempt a man --- how to get whatever it was that he craved and how to draw every ounce of attention toward himself. for better measure, he lifted a hand, absently running fingers through his own hair --- no longer perfectly in place with pomade, relaxed and slightly mussed from his head against the pillow. and then, challenging, ❝ --- you’re more than welcome to take a picture, if that’s all you’d like to do. ❞

               ❝   who  let  you  in  the ---  ❞  his  harsh  tone  is  muted  by  a  pause  that  hangs  heavy  in  the  air.   he  KNOWS  that  face,  he  does  not  know  the  man.   but  he  has  seen  it  in  the  photos  of  his  father,  younger,  HAPPIER.   this  man  is  his  would  be  grandfather.   his  first  thought  is  alternate  universe.  it’s  always  an  alternate  universe.  Damian  stands,  not  that  his  height  is  any  sort  of  imposing.   

;; it’s been a while, since he’s ventured over to gotham. contracts in bludhaven have kept him busy, some more fulfilling than others. but tonight, he finds himself perched in the shadows of a building’s outcrop, tense and silent as he watches the streets far below.

the city is as DARK as ever, even with the sun yet to fully set. smog pools around his still body, police sirens a distant orchestra to the theatre of violence that is this sleepless city. and yet, compared to bludhaven, gotham almost feels...calm. there’s a FEAR infesting the streets, one that renders the whole city silent. a fear of what will happen, if they choose to expose themselves in open waters.

it’s...boring.

Leona kept her golden eye on the so mysterious older man that she spotted. She captured Woman-Bat attention just by how a l o n e he seemed. Away from everyone, filtering out any diversions. How unlucky for him that she likes a challenge from anyone she could seek her teeth into.

It was an underground party full of Gotham finest. Leona of course, being one of them as Woman-Bat. It pleasure her that she could so easily change, not forever stuck as a beast. Alcohol in hands she walked over to he grey haired man sitting on a lounge chair.

She scooted close, leaving both drinks on the table in front of them. “Do you plan to finally ask one of these people out.. or you’re planning to rob them? Both are a waste when you can just k i l l people who deserve it.” Leona smiled, fingers tapping on the table.

DO YOU REMEMBER THE DONT PUT IT IN YOUR MOUTH COMMERCIAL