Karrin Murphy (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whatfriendsdo) wrote2012-07-14 05:48 pm
whatfriendsdo) wrote2012-07-14 05:48 pm
Entry tags:
NINJAMEME MASTERPOST 8|
I have nothing to say here DEAL W/I.
[The fact that he puts a timer on it is what gets her to settle back on to the couch. No simple I promise or Maybe next time.]
Wake me up when you get back. [As though she plans on sleeping.] And don't get killed.
Wake me up when you get back. [As though she plans on sleeping.] And don't get killed.
[A brief quirk of a smile.]
Of course.
[This is the story of how he leans down and kisses her forehead, and then heads out for the night.
Bruce is generally gone from ten until six in the morning - sometimes shorter or longer depending - and this time he stumbles in at four. His injury tally is somewhat higher than he appreciates it being - two broken ribs, numerous contusions, a light concussion and a knife wound that bit through his kevlar and etched a line across one shoulder.
But, true to his word, he stops in front of the couch.]
Karrin.
[Just her name, pitch-perfect to draw her from her dreams.]
Of course.
[This is the story of how he leans down and kisses her forehead, and then heads out for the night.
Bruce is generally gone from ten until six in the morning - sometimes shorter or longer depending - and this time he stumbles in at four. His injury tally is somewhat higher than he appreciates it being - two broken ribs, numerous contusions, a light concussion and a knife wound that bit through his kevlar and etched a line across one shoulder.
But, true to his word, he stops in front of the couch.]
Karrin.
[Just her name, pitch-perfect to draw her from her dreams.]
[She stirs from the middle of her paperwork nest, scrubbing at her eyes. There's a criminal profile stuck to her forearm.]
[She does - though not in obedience, and absolutely to get out of range of whatever is in that envelope.] I'll take the cape. You keep the drugs.
[One of her mother's favorite phrases springs to mind. Don't criticize your host for the way they clean their house. She taps her fingers against the counter.]
It's not about whether or not you did it or meant to do it. I don't want him to think you're pulling strings for me. [For all her general avoidance of politics, she knows perfectly well how it works.]
It's not about whether or not you did it or meant to do it. I don't want him to think you're pulling strings for me. [For all her general avoidance of politics, she knows perfectly well how it works.]
[She swings to her feet, exploring his sides, arms, hips, gently with her fingertips.] Sure. What happened?
I can recognize when independence is important to someone, Karrin. I barely mentioned you at all. My word. Bruce Wayne is far too self-involved to note much more than 'she saved my life, and I think she got away' regarding a lowly police lieutenant. I didn't even catch your name.
[He stops what he's doing - in this case, saving another crepe - and catches her hand. He'll bring it to his lips if she allows it. The words are a feint, of course, and hardly meant to offend. Bruce is perfectly aware of his public image, and has on numerous occasions fought to protect it.]
[He stops what he's doing - in this case, saving another crepe - and catches her hand. He'll bring it to his lips if she allows it. The words are a feint, of course, and hardly meant to offend. Bruce is perfectly aware of his public image, and has on numerous occasions fought to protect it.]
Another night in Gotham.
[His injuries are non-issues, as far as he's concerned. But he does catch her hand, tangle their fingers together and head for one of the manor's more luxurious showers. He's still in uniform, which is probably a mark of how tired he is, only the cowl is pushed back. His hair is ruffled, and damp with sweat. These suits don't breathe as well as they probably should.]
[His injuries are non-issues, as far as he's concerned. But he does catch her hand, tangle their fingers together and head for one of the manor's more luxurious showers. He's still in uniform, which is probably a mark of how tired he is, only the cowl is pushed back. His hair is ruffled, and damp with sweat. These suits don't breathe as well as they probably should.]
[She tries to see the benefit of a lie in this scenario, what he would get out of her being sluggish or unaware, and can't think of anything. Murphy eases forward again, edging around the fire so he can get to the injury. She might accept the help, but she's still tenser than a twisted wire.]
[He frowns a bit, peels off one of his gauntlets to reveal a slow bleeding wound - it's hard in this cold. Neither of them are hypothermic yet, but that can change in a matter of minutes in this frozen wasteland. He taps some of the powder out onto his own cut where she can see it.]
Vigilantes generally carry their own first aid supply. Rule of thumb. Satisfied?
Vigilantes generally carry their own first aid supply. Rule of thumb. Satisfied?
[Murphy lets herself be led along, dancing her free fingertips along the points of his gauntlets. She's going to shower with Batman.
Murphy has to bite down on the grin that threatens at those words. Because honestly, it can't be the most ridiculous scenario in which she's ever found herself. There's something about the sentence, though, that makes her want to laugh.] Another night in Gotham doing what?
Murphy has to bite down on the grin that threatens at those words. Because honestly, it can't be the most ridiculous scenario in which she's ever found herself. There's something about the sentence, though, that makes her want to laugh.] Another night in Gotham doing what?
[He snorts. Her... enthusiasm is almost contagious. Almost. If Bruce were susceptible to it, he'd have been a much different person after Dick.]
Oh, you know. Hitting up all the best parties.
[That's part Bruce and part Batman. The lines blur with her. He tugs her into the bathroom and releases her so he can undo his uniform. It's a process, and there are all sorts of security overrides built into the suit. The sort that deliver a large - but nonlethal - shock to anyone trying to tamper with it if he's unconscious.]
I have a mild concussion. You really shouldn't let me sleep after this.
[Innuendo? Maybe. He tosses the gauntlets into one corner of the (elaborately ornate, completely marble-walled bathroom) and the utility belt follows shortly afterwards. The rest is just the semi-rigid nomex-and-kevlar weave, which he peels off.
Say what you will about Bruce, he's not the least bit self-conscious about his body.]
Oh, you know. Hitting up all the best parties.
[That's part Bruce and part Batman. The lines blur with her. He tugs her into the bathroom and releases her so he can undo his uniform. It's a process, and there are all sorts of security overrides built into the suit. The sort that deliver a large - but nonlethal - shock to anyone trying to tamper with it if he's unconscious.]
I have a mild concussion. You really shouldn't let me sleep after this.
[Innuendo? Maybe. He tosses the gauntlets into one corner of the (elaborately ornate, completely marble-walled bathroom) and the utility belt follows shortly afterwards. The rest is just the semi-rigid nomex-and-kevlar weave, which he peels off.
Say what you will about Bruce, he's not the least bit self-conscious about his body.]
Well, I wouldn't want to make your injuries any worse, either. [Innuendo? Psh, of course. She picks the utility belt up with the ginger care of someone who knows pressing the wrong button will earn her a nasty surprise, examining the pouches without trying to open any of them.
When she looks up, he's undressed, his fresh bruises evident, along with old scars. More than she's ever seen on him. Murphy knew he wore high-quality body make-ups to hide the worst marks from former injuries - hard to play the suave playboy when you look like a mercenary. But this is the first time she's seen him naked in the most honest way.
She brushes hand across the puckered dip in his chest that marks an impaling he probably shouldn't have survived. It only takes a second to strip of her borrowed shirt, to figure out the few-too-many knobs in the shower. She closes her eyes and lets the water soak her for a breath, anchor her. His body is a war zone of miraculous survivals. It's...
A reminder, that's all. A reminder.
Murphy finds a soft cloth and a bar of soap, lathers the former, and takes her turn to lead him into the water. She starts with that mark on his chest, cleaning it carefully, moving on to another jagged stripe cut sideways down to his torso. She kisses it, tastes a trace of sweat and the musk of used kevlar, and swipes away both with lavender and citrus. Mark by mark, cut by cut, scar by scar.]
When she looks up, he's undressed, his fresh bruises evident, along with old scars. More than she's ever seen on him. Murphy knew he wore high-quality body make-ups to hide the worst marks from former injuries - hard to play the suave playboy when you look like a mercenary. But this is the first time she's seen him naked in the most honest way.
She brushes hand across the puckered dip in his chest that marks an impaling he probably shouldn't have survived. It only takes a second to strip of her borrowed shirt, to figure out the few-too-many knobs in the shower. She closes her eyes and lets the water soak her for a breath, anchor her. His body is a war zone of miraculous survivals. It's...
A reminder, that's all. A reminder.
Murphy finds a soft cloth and a bar of soap, lathers the former, and takes her turn to lead him into the water. She starts with that mark on his chest, cleaning it carefully, moving on to another jagged stripe cut sideways down to his torso. She kisses it, tastes a trace of sweat and the musk of used kevlar, and swipes away both with lavender and citrus. Mark by mark, cut by cut, scar by scar.]
[Bruce stands, still and silent as she... the only word he can think of is tends to him. He doesn't protest. It's--
Nice. Comfortable. He barely thinks about the scars he's earned in the line of duty. Each proverbial pound of flesh a necessary sacrifice.
He closes his eyes under the water, raises one hand to press his palm against the wall, fingers curled under. Not quite a fist, but... tense.]
If you plan on getting every one, we'll be here-- a while.
[His voice is a little rough, tho.]
Nice. Comfortable. He barely thinks about the scars he's earned in the line of duty. Each proverbial pound of flesh a necessary sacrifice.
He closes his eyes under the water, raises one hand to press his palm against the wall, fingers curled under. Not quite a fist, but... tense.]
If you plan on getting every one, we'll be here-- a while.
[His voice is a little rough, tho.]
[She smooths herself against his back to reach a mark on his neck.] Do you have somewhere else to go?
[Not demanding, not teasing. A promise. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. Murphy slips her empty hand around his waist and holds herself against him, lightly enough to not put pressure on ribs she recognizes as being at least cracked, based on the bruises. The water gathers in the dip where their bodies meet and crests over her shoulders, tickling in a fresh wave down her back.]
[Not demanding, not teasing. A promise. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to. Murphy slips her empty hand around his waist and holds herself against him, lightly enough to not put pressure on ribs she recognizes as being at least cracked, based on the bruises. The water gathers in the dip where their bodies meet and crests over her shoulders, tickling in a fresh wave down her back.]
Don't blame me if you lose that finger to frostbite. [It's half a joke, as much of an answer as she'll give. She still doesn't like it - being touched by a stranger, being administered something she's unfamiliar with. Even if it's only a topical application.] Is there a page in the vigilante handbook for how to get out of this situation?
[She lets him take her hand, still thrown by the gentlemanly sincerity on the heels of fluid sarcasm.]
I don't get it. [Murphy shakes her head.] How can you be so self-aware, know exactly what people think of you, and be satisfied with them being wrong?
I don't get it. [Murphy shakes her head.] How can you be so self-aware, know exactly what people think of you, and be satisfied with them being wrong?
Yes. It involves getting some rest.
[He's doing the administering as he speaks. He's not terribly affected by the cold. He's spent several years of his life in like climates, and it's more an issue of mind over matter to control his body's natural urge to shiver.]
[He's doing the administering as he speaks. He's not terribly affected by the cold. He's spent several years of his life in like climates, and it's more an issue of mind over matter to control his body's natural urge to shiver.]
[She buries herself in the cape again, fighting her own increasing tremors. It doesn't seem possible or fair that he's not reacting the same way.] You're kidding, right? I thought that was the opposite of what you're supposed to do.
The people who matter know me better than that. The rest-- I don't owe them anything. They see what they want to see.
[It ties back into his childhood, if he's being perfectly honest. The paparazzi spent months hounding him for photographs after his parents died, and Bruce... developed an attitude that allowed for coping with it. People would approach him on the street and ask about his parents, hoping for a reaction. Alfred actually punched one of them for it once.]
Besides, I've always found a certain value in being underestimated.
[It ties back into his childhood, if he's being perfectly honest. The paparazzi spent months hounding him for photographs after his parents died, and Bruce... developed an attitude that allowed for coping with it. People would approach him on the street and ask about his parents, hoping for a reaction. Alfred actually punched one of them for it once.]
Besides, I've always found a certain value in being underestimated.
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