cold inside.

BRUCE WAYNE. "Don't get too close. It's dark inside. It's where my demons hide. It's where my demons hide."

[purrfectcrime]

"Was it now? I apologize that your very eyes have to witness such a hovel.” Selina shot back acridly, eyes narrowing almost defensively as she watched the look he gave her home. Fine. It was small, shoddy, the roof leaked like hell when it rained, even now she had a bucket set up on the kitchen table (which was missing part of a leg and propped up on phonebooks), but it was home to her. “It’s no manor, but if you can bear the discomfort come on in.”

The brunette let the door fall open further, hand waving him in with a lackadaisical effort before closing it swiftly behind him. “Keep your money Bruce.” Her nose crinkled in almost disgust at the offer, the gentle simmering of annoyance cranking up to sleight anger. Did he honestly think she was that desperate for money? She stayed where she was because she liked it. The location was ideal, it was comfortable, she wasn’t here that often and it was the first place that absolutely no one knew about. Selina Kyle had enemies, she wasn’t naive. Safety came before frivolous items that Wayne had plenty of.

"I’m not your charity case, I thought we established that? Or do you need me to demonstrate on some more of your possessions? I’d be glad to." A cheeky grin and her arms folded neatly over an ample chest. "I don’t have champagne and caviar, but there’s coffee and probably some beer in the fridge. Help yourself."

[gothamsxknight]

Bruce didn't find the living arrangements dis-satisfactory – given the current circumstances – anything that could fend off the cold was good enough for him. It was the person he was going to be sharing the place with the next few hours that bothered him. The brunette was confusing, to put it lightly. She was unexpected and worst of all headstrong, something he normally could appreciate in another person but he had suspicions that her obstinate character and his unyielding ways would end up making them murder each other.

He chose to keep his mouth shut on the matter as he walked in, thinking it would be safer for the both of them and a lot less uncomfortable if he made no more further comments about any subject that seemed to be touchy to the woman. Although he had an inkling doubt that it would stop her from finding anything he did any less insulting.

“That wasn’t my intention,” he argued, turning back around to meet her face after closing the door behind him. “It was meant for compensation, a simple expression of my gratitude since you clearly would rather take in anyone else but me. Seeing now that you feel highly against it then, I suppose I am forced to much less grandeur expression of gratitude,” he started, shrugging out of his coat and pulling his gloves off to lay them down on the nearest table and finished with a soft and albeit forced with another frustrated sigh, “Thank you.”

[olivedunham]

[purrfectcrime]

Unlike most, Selina didn’t really mind the brittle winter weather. Generally it gave her more leverage when trying to pull a job, people weren’t so inclined to chase after a crook if they had to go through blustering, frigid, winds to do so. Not to mention that locks were easier to bust through and go unnoticed during this time. If it was noted that something was amiss, people were quick to assume that something must have happened when the temperature dropped below freezing. Basically? Ideal circumstances for a known cat burglar.

She’d just draped herself across an armchair after fiddling with the antennas on her small television, with a mug of hot chocolate and a think blanket, when there was a cacophony of knocks on the door. She rolled her eyes, completely intent on ignoring it as she sipped from the ceramic mug in hand. A few more knocks and her TV was disrupted again. She groaned in frustration and stomped towards the door, flinging it up with as much strength as she could muster.

      “What the hell do—”

   Instantly, a vulpine smirk took hold of her features, her hand falling to her hip and a curious brow perking in his direction.

      “Hmm, yes Mr. Wayne. I think I do remember you. How nice of you to stop by. Doing some philanthropy? Selling gift wrap to pay for your car?”

[gothamsxknight]

Of course he would have the most unfortunate luck, not only was he forced to associate with a family full of selfish narcissists , break his newly acquired automobile in the raging blizzard but also have the first owner to open her doors to him to be no other than Selina Kyle’s. His day could not possibly get any closer to piss poor.

An eyeroll was quick to escape him, pretenses uninhibited for a short while due to the freezing chill that made its way up his spine. Whether it was because of the smirk on the woman’s features or just the deadly low temperature outside, he couldn’t be one hundred percent certain. Annoyed and frustrated, Bruce pondered on taking his chances on the next few doors left to hers, maybe he’ll find better company to pass the night with or just until he can contact Alfred and request a rescue team but two out of the three left seemed uninhabited and none of the doors before hers had even dared open up to check up on the outside world.

“This was obviously a mistake.” He was certain of that but the howling winds outside kept him firmly where he stood, contemplating further how his chances would fare venturing back out there instead of relinquishing a little bit of his pride for a few hours of safe haven.

“Unfortunately, I have no other choice. If you would be kind enough to let me stay in your…” he paused, looking behind her to take a quick round about of her place. “Home, just until the blizzard dials down and I can make arrangements to take me home, I’d gladly pay you for the trouble.”

[gothamsxknight]

“Fuck.”

Like his day just couldn’t possibly get worse after having to indulge Mrs. Gregory’s daughter in a banal conversation about her marriage plans and him pretending to ignore her not so subtle hinting for the sake of good conduct. The expletive escaped him without much thought, frustration rarely expressed except in moments of absolute solitude. He supposed being stuck in the middle of nowhere during a horrendous blizzard should account for his monthly quota of weakness. Just enough for him to compose himself again and come up with the most sensible plan that would not end up with him as a frozen popsicle stick or losing any limbs to frostbite.

His gloved hands curled tighter around the steering wheel as his eyes scanned the dashboard, assessing the damage before pulling out the keys. The batteries were dead – his Koenigsegg was more than useless at this point. A sigh escaped him, more resigned than frustrated now, as he picked up his coat from the backseat and opened the door, wrapping the thick wool clothing around his shoulder as he looked around; squinting his eyes through the snow fall for any familiar landmark. It slowly dawned on him that he might have made a wrong turn because nothing was familiar, most of the buildings looked similar to each other blanketed by snow. Shrugging into his jacket and shoving his hands into the pockets to keep him warm, he trudged through the snow towards the buildings with signs of life visible through their window.

Popping his collar up and breathing into his palms to keep his face warm, he took a chance on one of the closer buildings, knocking on the first door with no response. He knocked a few more times, introducing himself but failed to elicit any reaction. With a reluctant and disappointed sigh, he tried the next few doors until eventually someone opened up.

“I’m Bruce Wayne and –“ 

[thorodinson]

[peachiex]

Happy Holidays and much love Tamara ♥

[gothamsxknight]

Task #001: Godforsaken

TASK: #001 - SEVEN DEADLY SINS - Wrath

GENERAL NOTES: There might be some triggering violence. JSYK.

The stillness in the air was enough to distract the young Bruce Wayne from his usual reverie, his head tilted up as his eyes followed the flurry of clouds hovering over the city, dark and heavy with set lines vivid against the dark indigo sky. The moon a heavy contrast in comparison as it hovered over him, the only source of light in an otherwise dark street.

 A grimace crossed his face as the idea taunted him, his thoughts returning to its usual grim pondering that only causes him to turn away from the light the moon cast and resume his walk. His shoulders heavier then they were when he’d snuck off from whatever obligation he had that day – the appeal of running away more poignant now as he breathed in the night air and found himself so deep in the city he no longer knew where he was precisely. But the fear that should have beheld him made no appearance. He felt as calm and as afloat as a leaf flying with the passing breeze.

He kept his path, forward and without looking back, only stopping when he heard a scuffle in an alley. His natural curiosity got the better of him and he came to a full halt, meekly turning his head to watch as muffled threats were whispered in the shadows - their outline vague in the darkness.

As the criminal pulled out a knife, a glimmer of light bounced against the surface as the moon came peering out from behind the clouds, seemingly to judge or just to gander at the unruly lives of the people that lived underneath her. The man was unfazed and only in the spotlight managed to gather the courage to make true his threats as he waved his knife around the young woman’s face.

There was rage before thought, action before introspection, a flood of memories before actual observation. In the next few seconds it took for him to walk towards the man, the memory of his parents death had already played itself half a million times in front of him, only replacing the figures with the faces but staying true to the trauma. He saw his parents crumble to the floor with blood seeping from their torsos followed by screams echoed into the night and his ten year old self crying helplessly in between them.

There was no act of forethought as he shoved the man roughly by the shoulder, enough to catch him off guard and make him stumble. The girl he’d attempted to protect forgotten in the sidelines, shaking and crying and clutching her chest. He didn’t see the mugger’s confused face and only saw the stone cold reaction of his parent’s murderer staring back him. He didn’t hear his threats or the fear in them as his own face managed to stay flat and inscrutable while he stepped on his hand and kicked the knife away as he let it go.

The man weaponless and defenseless wasn’t enough for Bruce. Joe Chiller’s face still as clear as it stared up at him, mocking him, just as he did eight years ago. He kicked at his sides and stepped on his shoulders, unhindered even as the sound of bones unlocking from sockets pervaded his current daze. He didn’t stop even when the man had begun begging for mercy, face bloody and body broken from his abuse. He still didn’t feel it was enough. He wasn’t…dead.

A small splash of clarity woke him up and left him staring at the miserable pile of tears and pleas which was the mugger and the weight of the moon’s fixed gaze on his back. It’s rays dancing off the clean surface of the knife he’d kicked away just minutes ago. He stared at his blood shot eyes staring back at him, his knuckles aching now with lucidity. His heart weighing heavier as he turned around and found not the dead bodies of his parents but of the young woman and a police man staring at him as if he was the criminal.

“Jesus Christ, kid.” The police man breathed, walking towards him warily.

How he wished it was his parents instead.

He pushed past them just as the man was reaching for his shoulder, his feet more eager to sprint now than to walk as he ran till he couldn’t breathe and no other thought ran through his head than: keep running.

The next day Bruce Wayne and his Butler was on a plane.

[hoechlinteeth]

Can it be you fear to die? Will the world remember you when you fall? Could it be your death means nothing at all? Is your life just one more lie?

[barryjallen]

Just a few words had caused Barry offence, forging his almost instant disengagement. But not for long, his stare bitter. “Ah— yes. Hardly, I mean— it still tells the time?” He whined, viewing his watch, “If a watch can tell the time, it shouldn’t matter how much sodium chloride has established itself on the face.” By every means, Barry was somewhat of a show off, using his intellect as perhaps his only defence. The boy couldn’t carry a bow or wield a sword— he dealt with the mysteries behind dead bodies and transformed his kitchen daily into his second lab, performing far from deadly experiments on vegetables he’d gotten from the grocery store the previous day. There was no one else in the world who knew more about cabbages than Barry Allen and he took pride in that.

"No." He laughed, sounding more abrupt than he’d meant, "not at all." He avoided eye contact with the other man, humming in his discomfort. He was being shamefully discriminatory, already introspectively turning his answers into cutting remarks regarding his financial situation. “Nope, no help needed here. I just miscalculated things— a lot of things.” He took to pulling the plug free from the wall, wrapping it around itself to fit snug in his bag. The amount of money people’s bank account contained gave him a bigger understanding of how well they deserved to be treated. Of course, like everyone, he’d gotten into tiffs with people from both ends of the financial spectrum but found the ones closer to the higher end harder to deal with, their arrogance masking Barry’s own ironic coy chutzpah. He denied ever feeling that way but the truth was clear within his actions as he cut away from his insulter. The silence couldn’t last long; he was far from finished. “My watch is fine.” He urged, tracing back to his original offence, still placed with his back to the voice.

[gothamsxknight]

He poised to look at the boy’s watch again, inspecting the discoloration with acute focus, deliberating the age and from the look of mild assault on his face with the stark contrast of his appearance to his, it held more value than just telling him the time. He must have said something offensive and had he the strength or the interest to care at the moment, he would have considered apologizing but he was more interested in retrieving his earlier bubble. And right now that required giving him all the reasons to walk away so he could be left alone because Bruce Wayne didn’t move unless he wanted to. And there was no want or energy in him to do so.

Striking dark blue met deep forest green as he glanced up to meet his gaze before it flickered away, scanning him from head to toe before looking away, one hand floating from his side to settle on the table and carry the weight of his heavy and bored head. “Perhaps consider things more heavily next time,” he suggested in a deadpan tone, his eyes returning to pore over the streets filled with numerous strangers who failed to notice scrutinizing eyes were watching them. “And I didn’t mean your watch wasn’t ‘fine’ as you say. It obviously means a lot to you if so much sodium chloride had covered the surface from your refusal or maybe forgetfulness to take it off every once in a while. If that is indeed the case, do it and whoever bought it for you a favor and clean it.”

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, the migraine he had attempted to avoid from over-working still managing to creep up on him when he’d least expected. “I heard people appreciate that.”

[chad-m-murray]

Clark let out a loud laugh, shaking his head at Bruce’s brutal honesty, even if Clark knew he didn’t mean it.”You may be a busy man, but you’re never too busy to see me, no need to hide it, Wayne.” Clark’s blue eyes practically sparkled from the sun light that shone through the windows of the large office. Leaning against a desk, Clark folded his arms and looked at the man before him, feeling quite intrigued as to what favour he could possibly need. If this had been anyone else, Clark would have found a way to get out of it, as he knew all too well that favours usually led to trouble. But Clark was willing to do as much as he can for Bruce, because he knew Bruce would do the same for him. “A favour? I thought Bruce Wayne could do everything.” Clark paused, peering down at his friend, “What is it?”

[gothamsxknight]

“I’ll let you keep thinking that.” He dismissed with a rather desperate attempt to hide the small smile on his face, still not too comfortable with the idea of expressing anything other than unfavorable dislike to mostly everyone. In his experience, it was easier to pretend to hate someone than to openly acknowledge the good in them. Not that Clark would ever use it against him but it was a defense mechanism ingrained in him by time and was hard to let go of, maybe more so because he was his best friend and often only friend. “I’d rather keep this one under wraps, you see.” He started, standing taller if possible though his height could never contest to the reporter’s. “My car crashed yesterday – as you can see I wasn’t harmed because I wasn’t in the driver’s seat – there was a girl and basically the favor I’m asking of you is to keep her name out of the press. Can you do that?”

[jesperfahey]

[gothamsxknight]

bruce wayne by the episode — raving

[steinbeckons]

Visit Original Link

Ring the Bells // Satellite

We’ll ring the bells that lead you home cause the only truth i’ve ever known is that nothing ever hurts us more than love. So circle up your best of friends and we’ll celebrate the way it ends at least we live tonight.

[reportinglane]

"I do say."

It was clear to Lois — to anyone in the coffee shop watching them — that Bruce was less than pleased to see her. Which only pleased Lois. She couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact moment where the two found a mutual dislike for each other. Or well, maybe dislike was a strong word — the two just didn’t exactly fit compatibly together. One of the main reasons being that Bruce didn’t seem to have a single conversational bone in his body. At least not unless it was to charm a room full of private donors and guests to this gala or that. Which meant that Lois had to do most of the talking, something she excelled in, but something that a lot of people got annoyed with. Like it was her problem that people didn’t know how to keep up the ends of their conversation.

"It’s ironic, really." Lois said, setting her cup down. "Mistletoe is a plant that sucks all the life and nourishment out of all those plants that surround it and yet, because of some silly folk-lure, it became a tradition that, not should two people meet under the mistletoe — but should a man see a woman under one he had the right to kiss her.” Lois was, unabashedly, displeased with the whole ritual. Ever since a classmate in 8th grade tricked her into walking under a mistletoe with him and then had the audacity to plant a kiss on her lips. Which ended badly for him as he ended up with a bruised groin, a gracious gift from her knee.

"Anyway, how are you this bright and sunny day, Bruce? Have you ran out of money to count?"

[gothamsxknight]

Bruce let his eyes wander around the room as Lois kept talking, unperturbed by his more than apparent disinterest with her or the subject topic. He searched for the nearest exit, wondering just how much hell he might have to pay for if he just got up and left her talking to air and force himself to go back to his office. Tedious business talks and sea of papers felt more than appealing right about now.

“Not completely.” He started, his eyes returning to the window. “It was said once to have taken down a God simply because the Goddess thought of it too young to demand an oath from. Just goes to show that it doesn’t matter the size or the appearance, anything can be deadly.” He finally turned his head, one side of his lips quirking up into an amused smirk. “Technically, it was a privilege – not a complete right – it was merely started to signify peace. But I’m taking that’s not where you’re dislike for the tradition is stemming from.”

“Delightful until you walked in.” He stifled another exasperated sigh. “I thought I’d offer to count yours – it gets rather boring when your money starts going over the 12 digits. And I miss counting tens and twentys.”

[spiddypeter]

Peter was starting to gather the man before him was one of very few words. Which he was totally okay with, after all he didn’t talk much either. Though sometimes what this guy said left Peter confused for a few moments trying to figure out a string of words that he could use as a reply. It was easy to see he was speaking something he had heard once before, whether he believed it or not was still up in the air. “Let’s say nothing is impossible, just a moment even though some things are in fact impossible, for a moment we are capable of everything. We as humans won’t strive to go out and accomplish it though, we’re scared and we settle instead, and they hate change even more then uncertainty. They are stuck and very few will change.” Peter knew his outlook was bleak, but he’d always been this way. This was how the world was, that was what was real and there was no need to waste his time thinking otherwise. Peter shrugged his shoulders mildly agreeing with the strangers words. ”Sure there are a few good reporters out there, but they get covered up by the fluff pieces because that’s what society wants. Once more money talks the loudest it drowns out the truth.”

[gothamsxknight]

There was a sliver of truth behind the boy’s words, some overpowering truth that man was indeed inherently evil but for some reason, Bruce couldn’t himself to believe that fully. Human beings were a product of their surroundings and their upbringing, neither having a more significant effect than the other, but both balancing out to produce their own unique specimen. The more truthful fact was that people were corruptible, easily influenced and easier to drag through mud then to raise up. “You generalize the populace and include yourself – does that mean you do the same as these people? That you despise change and do not strive to bring some good in this world? Are you, like them, crippled by the fear of failure or greatness that you settle for only this?” He would gather no, simply from the way he talked, that the boy cared more than he would lead on. His words not only coming from a side of logic but from compassion, a trait he finds much easier to spot than any other. He leaned back and paused, jutting his lips thoughtfully, realizing slowly that he wasn’t there to change the boy’s outlook. He had every right to think what he wanted and he was no one – still practically a stranger if he looked at it appropriately. “I can not disagree with you on that one.”

[reportinglane]

"Look Nick, I cannot possibly fathom what is so hard about the filing system — do you know your ABC’s, Nick? Do you know how to read dates? Do you know what chronological order is?" Lois didn’t wait for his response on the other end of the call, she just kept talking, annoyance and power clear in her voice. As she did, she pushed through the doors to some coffee shop she couldn’t be bothered to know the name of. "It is not a game of Tetris, the files are not out to get you, but me? I am." While speaking to one of the newest members of the paper — and probably making them second guess their new job decision — Lois stood impatiently in line, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke. "And if I get back to that office and every single file and paper I asked for is not sitting promptly on my desk, the last thing you’re going to be afraid of is that filing system." Ending the call abruptly, Lois stuffed her phone into her purse and blew a huff of air up out of her mouth, causing it to ruffle the hair that had fallen into her face.

It was only after she was off the phone, arms crossed, that she took a look around the coffee shop she had ventured into. It was promptly covered from head-to-toe in Christmas decorations, faerie lights strung throughout the small building which were probably only lit at night. There was even a mistletoe under the employees “no access beyond this point” door. Lois almost snorted, curious to how many mishaps had already come from that and how many people had been forced into kissing each other.

Said curiosity got the better of her and it was actually the first thing she asked the Barista when she got up to the counter. To her surprise, she learned that they actually did keep track of that as a little employee game. “How cute,” Lois had commented, holding back her sarcasm to the best of her abilities. The moment she got her drink — straight back, which she didn’t usually go for, but she had a long day ahead of her and a limited amount of energy left — she went to find somewhere to sit. Only to spot a very familiar face and she couldn’t help the devious smile that appeared. Bruce obviously looked as if he didn’t want to be disturbed, which only made Lois’ want to disturb him that much stronger. 

"Did you know," Lois started, catching the leg of the chair with her foot and pulling it out, "that there have been precisely 24 kisses under that mistletoe?" The brunette gestured to the offending item with a tilt of her head before seating herself and bringing the scolding hot drink to her lips, simply to feel the heat against them.

[gothamsxknight]

Some people were lightning – an instantaneous flash of electrostatic discharge that could either leave you burned to your core or rejuvenated with a vigor for better things. And then there was Lois Lane. Any man ( or woman ) faced with her would know she was nothing less of a hurricane – strong, draining and quick to send an already tiresome day spiraling close to doomed.

He wasn’t sure how he’d grown attuned to the woman’s voice ( maybe he should lessen his visits to Clark ) or how she managed to penetrate the wall he’d put up against any distracting force. Suppose it just goes to show how well Lois Lane grates on his nerves that he could picture her pulling him out of Nirvana with just a roll of her eyes. He pressed down on the annoyance threatening to overcome him, refusing to let his temper or her presence get the best of him until of course the incoming clicks of heels that sounded in tune to a death march pulled him out from his reverie completely.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling all the frustration that he could in those few seconds through his nostrils. Without even turning his head to give her a quick once over and with a tone as flat as his expression, he quipped with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

“You don’t say.”

[barryjallen]

Lunchtime was far from a necessity to Barry; a poorly made sandwich was the closest he’d ever gotten to a Michelin lunch and frankly could see it no other way. His desire for the coffee shop laid in the hands of their free WiFi, his mouth watering at the thought of being able to work through emails on his break and save time in doing it later that day. He paused before he sat, his inner voice being ravaged by his ongoing desire to be an equal. “I have that watch.” He threw in, smugly pointing at what seemed to be a shared item in the stranger’s and his collection. For a man with few expensive things and ghastly taste, he was glad to have had generous friends— a generous Iris. He stood static for a while, eyeing the watch as if he were seeing it through new eyes, beaming at the idea of someone else challenging his uncle’s view on the “old fashioned” watch.

"Oh." The sudden realisation of who he’d spoken to had hit him: none other than Bruce Wayne, a man of many watches.

He locked himself into a hover, searching for an excuse to exit the situation without having to converse any moment longer. The contents of the Science textbooks he’d forced his brain to absorb had failed to teach him exactly how he was supposed to act around billionaires but something told him he was far from suitable. His tablet still plugged in to charge, he pulled away from the wall in an attempt to walk free from the scene, only for the wire to haul him back and add to his embarrassment. “Fantastic, Allen.”

[gothamsxknight]

Steely blue eyes scanned the streets dutifully through the nearby plain glass window, like a hawk looking for a prey with no face, contented by the silence and the simple joy of blocking out the rest of the world – the mundane holiday music blasting from the speakers, the bitter sweet aroma of brewed coffee, the incessant chattering of other patrons and the bustling loud city streets of Gotham just beyond the window. For a few miraculous seconds since his return, his mind was a complete blank up until he caught something in his peripheral vision and the light buzzing in his ear rearranged themselves into words.

Bruce turned sharply at his disruptor, quite expecting some form of nosy news reporter recognizing him. He wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or relieved when instead he found a young boy suddenly occupying the chair across from his. He looked from his watch to his own after he’d pointed it out to him, easily noting the age and wear behind his time piece in comparison to his.

“Yours need cleaning.” He interjected into the silence the boy blanketed over them, his glance blank and expectant at him, waiting for some sort of impromptu business presentation from him. He pulled his gaze away from the boy’s face when he still refused to speak a word or start his speech only to glance at the source of his failed tugging.

“Do you need some help?”  

[chad-m-murray]

Clark grinned at his friend, concealing his surprise at his visit, especially at a place that hadn’t reported many fond stories about Wayne Enterprises and Bruce himself, in the past. “Well, you see, they actually employed me to scare stories out of people, or y’know, I’d just sit on them and crush them to death.” Shaking his head, Clark’s eyes also wondered around the office, before stopping at Lois Lane’s, and noticing some research paper’s he’d have to discreetly go through later. “A lawsuit? Come on now, that’s a little weak of you. I was expecting an ultimate showdown or something, Wayne.” A smirk played on Clark’s lips, knowing his strength could easily outdo Bruce’s, but he also knew he’d never have to test that theory against his friend. “Anything I can help you with? Or are you just here because you missed me?”

[gothamsxknight]

With the man’s more than imposing height, Bruce wouldn’t have found it hard to believe that it was his choice of interrogation tactic if he had not been witness of the man’s genuine mild-mannered nature. All barrel chest  and broad shouldered as he was, there was nothing but a beating heart of gold underneath it. “My sincerest apologies, Kent, if you’d think I’d waste time and sweat just to see you topple over.” He turned away, a casual smile settling on his lips, more natural now that he’d grown accustomed to Clark’s presence again. “I’m a busy man after all.” He took in an inaudible intake of breath at his next words, his jaw tightening at the obvious discomfort the idea of asking help brought forth in him. “I’m here to ask a favor. Nothing too big so I hope you might indulge.”