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@noctxperpetua
Contemplates on doing his homeworks. He'd rather read the current news than to read the lines of boring sentences printed in the book Robinson Crusoe. -- He wishes for his tea and biscuits too, now that he's distracted. "Alfred." ---- "Alfred!!" No signs of Alfred, huh
How cute, she thinks. But the song was sort of dirty,
so she’s contemplating on continuing to hum it.
”…Nice suit and tie.”
Go ahead and continue, honestly he wouldn't mind. Besides, he might as well know a few lines from that song already. "Umm -- " Pausing, to have a hand scratching the back of his head. "Thank you... Nice -- uh -- shirt"
Hums loudly to Suit&Tie.
Oh -- he's wearing suits and tie. Too formal for a 12 years old by the way
"Spoiler" 😆😂 @Gothamonfox #Gotham #Batman #BruceWayne #funnymeme
(☾☆) — Rosemary disliked the idea of receiving money, especially since she was very wealthy in her own right. Even so she could see that he was trying to be kind so she’d accept it. The money was tucked into her purse before she looked back up to him. Her guitar was placed by her side and she then allowed her son to crawl onto her lap. As he continued to voice his concern she held Aristotle closer to herself.
She nods, showing her appreciation with a small smile. Rosemary refrained from saying it earlier but her worry got the best of her. ❝If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out here on your own?❞
A small sigh was let out at the inquiry given. True, he wasn't supposed to be out here. But he knew he was craving for his favorite ice cream -- and Alfred wouldn't let him have any ice cream during the cold weather especially; fearing that it might harm his health. "I had to run an important errand" He replied as nonchalantly. Of course, ice cream would always be an important errand. His eyes were quick to shift to the small figure now crawling up and against her laps. He never had brothers before, and he certainly doesn't know how to handle smaller kids; toddlers especially, but the image in front of him -- a loving mother and her child -- made him somewhat smiled. "At least I'm not the one with a small kid.." Bruce mumbled, pausing for a while and hoped that the lady wouldn't take it as something offensive. "It's really -- not safe around the streets here Ma'am. Why don't you go home? It's getting dark" Look who's talking like an adult now.
noctxperpetua
One didn’t need to ask further as to why Dante had decided to linger around this house, the reason was rather obvious. His strings were pulled so strong around the head resident of this manor, traces of misfortune dripping from him every time the youth took a step, it was by far one of Misfortune’s more delicate works. Having decided to materialize in the boy’s study room, he, effortlessly, wandered about till he reached the desk. Sweeping through books and papers did his eye rest on sketches done in dark pencil. How very intriguing, such troubled thoughts this one had, simply perfect!
“Well aren’t you—a talented—boy.” Whispered words perhaps said because he knew that in a few moments he wouldn’t be alone in this room anymore.
Pieces of the news being cut from the news paper now were hung up against the wall -- telling and teaching him the history of the Wayne family, their billion dollars company, and the city Gotham itself. He was still so young, so easily bent -- and he knew if he didn't learn about the truth hidden in beneath the city's corruption now, he too would be drowned in such criminality too. And he wouldn't want that -- he knew the Waynes were people of just. The study room was left in disarray with folders lying around as carelessly and stack of old newspaper arranged as messily all over the room; he had his sketchbook doodled with whatever was clouding his thoughts - his parents, the city, the mob Carmine Falcon which he pictured a burly man with a scary monstrous face - and drew that in between his other 'dark' sketches. Too caught up in his own thoughts and the puzzle made by the city itself, he didn't notice another person would be creeping up after him. Usually it would be Alfred pacing around the room, cleaning up the mess that he did; and he didn't mind the interruption - in fact he welcomed it. However, to have another person -- a stranger's voice being whispered to him -- surprised him; and a loud gasp was let out as he turned and was faced by a much taller figure that wasn't Alfred. He was tall - and he looked much younger and firmer than his manservant. "W-who are you!? Al -- Alfred, there's a person in the study!"
She took off the cloth and stared at the dark space. She could not see anything but she could hear everything. The china clinking, the slurping sounds. “Who are you?”
She was staring off at another direction -- her gaze empty and passing through him. Bruce blinked for a while, wondering if the spoken question was directed to him -- realizing he was the only person there drinking his tea. And he guessed that she was -- talking to him. "Umm -- I'm Bruce. And you?"
the boy’s question sounded entertaining enough to his ears to make him smile, a hand on his chin as if he were thinking about an important matter. “Is—it? Ça alors, I hope I haven’t—disturbed you—then.” Oh, as if he cared. The truth was, Etienne could enter anywhere he wanted in the way he preferred. No locked doors nor gates could keep him away; neither physical nor mental protections could prevent him from getting close to you. Although he always preferred when someone invited him to enter, of course; it made everything funnier. “The gate was—open, probably.” A little lie which would not hurt anyone.
”I’ve to—guess you live—here. Are your—parents on the—inside?”
A french. He would've guess that the latter might be a French. There were a few foreigners being a native citizen in Gotham. Either Gotham is a common ground for him, or he might be a tourist, which was unlikely as Gotham was never a place that attracted tourist. The corrupting haze spreading fast in the city and the street violence going around wasn't something that showed that this city was tourists friendly. Nonetheless, the possibility of him being a tourist was still there; and he might not genuinely know that he was better off than to linger around on the Wayne's properties "I have to say, Alfred never not close the gate. But then again, that old man might just forget to, this time" Which would be an unlikely thing to be as well -- Alfred never forgets. At the mention of his parents, he could feel a pair of cold hands clenching a tight fist around his heart - he tensed. His expression was quickly falling apart, making him transparent -- from sad to a sudden rage. How could this person casually brought up the mention of his parents; he brought his eyes trained on the older figure as sternly. "They're not. I do live here and if I want you out you should and I want you to go now"
See never looked at the boy as he talked, their legs swinging, their only visible eye looking at the horizon, where the ocean seemed to end but in fact did not. Oh yes, the child was saying the truth: the ocean is endless in ways humans cannot even imagine. There are depths no man nor woman has ever explored, and beneath those there are other depths, other world whose existence is better be left unknown. That fearful look in his eyes, though. They wanted to make it disappear.
“It’s autumn. The sky’s rarely bright and sunny these days.” That was why they did not like fall. The sea did not shine in the same way it did in spring or in summer. “What’s Gotham? Is it the city you’re from?” Admitting their ignorance was never a problem to the, especially in presence of such a young human.
He wondered if the other was any older than him -- they looked as if they were of the same age, maybe even younger or older; Bruce wouldn't want to know which. But it wasn't something as important, there were more important things in mind currently and the other's age wasn't one of them, honestly. It took a while for his companion to answer him, and it shook him from his silent trance as they spoke. Pairs of dark hazel too were trained on the horizon, wondering if there were ever days that would be warm for him -- his parents weren't around to warm him anymore; there wouldn't be any touch warmer than his mother's. A small frown was quick to form on his lips, as it was quick to fade with a feigned smile. "Gotham. It's this island of a city. Yeah I'm from here. Never been away from Gotham. Where are you from?" He paused, thinking if they were from here - which was most unlikely since he wasn't sure what Gotham is the first place. Bruce contemplated on shoving a hand towards the other, wondering if it was okay to shake a stranger's hand. But seeing that they're only a kid; he didn't see any harm in a handshake. So a gloved hand was offered for the other to take. "I'm Bruce. What's your name?"
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“You can say that I floated in, and hello, Bruce! It’s nice to know you think of me so fondly even though we just met. I can tell you’re a good kid. I just thought I’d breeze by and see who the spoken “billionaire heir” is like.” She lowered in eyes in preparation for what she was going to say.”I, uh, heard about what happened, so I thought it’d be nice to fly in — I swear that pun wasn’t intended! But, yeah. If you don’t want me here, I can go, but you looked lonely. I know how that feels, so you might need some company other than that Alfred guy who understands a child~”
Lately, everyone had been claiming that either they flew into his room, or they'd walked through the walls, moreso they 'casually appear' as if that is the most convenient thing to do. It made him think as if he was close to being mad; or somehow these people come from his own imagination. Imaginary friends -- that's a nice way to start schizophrenia. "I --" A pause, too many to indulge in. He wished for Alfred to handle these people so called trespassers. "-- You can't just fly into my room, that would make you impossible. Either that, or you're a trained spy, here to murder the 'billionaire heir'." And a sigh was let escaping his parted lips as he shook his head for a few. "It's nice of you to feel bad about my parents, but I can't say that I trust a stranger that knows everything about me -- even when it comes to Alfred"
; silence flopped onto his bed, frowning at the pillow
that got caught beneath its body, yanking & tossing it away. it allowed its eyes to rove about the room, focusing in on random items that momentarily caught its interest. really, it was just stalling to make a reply. ;
.w̢ow̵,̡ ru̡de.͠ y’͘k̛n͏o̷w,͠ ̶w͜he͠n ỳou ̷tal͏k to a l͢ad̵y͘,̶ ỳou ͟shou͘ld͢ c̵al̡l̸ ̵th̛eḿ ‘mis͢s̀’̧.҉ ͏
ho̢w̢’d̡ i̛ gèt ́i͏n,̡ you ̶a̴s̢k̵?͞ ̧t͡h̡rou̕gh̴ ̧the̛ w̵a͠llś,͏ ҉o̵f ͡c͞ou͠ŗse̛!̶ how̷ els͏ę d͏ò ͝y͝o̷u̸ e̸nte҉r ͢a ̛rǫo͏m͡ ̀ẁithǫu͞t̴ be̷i͡ng̵ ̕detected̀? ͝ r̕i̢d̸d͡le҉ ͡m̢e t̴h̵a͢t̢, b̡r̷u̢cìȩ!̛
Unlike any other boys, Bruce had been sleeping in his parents' room; the master bedroom. A little too big for a boy his age, and it didn't have anything that tells a person that it belonged to a 12 years old kid. But it reminded him of his parents' nonetheless -- everything in this room had their touches and everything else that he'd been missing out from them. He watched at the female figure tossing the pillow across the room, and it made him having a few shaky steps backwards; ready to call for Alfred at any moments, given the chance. "I -- I d-don't understand. You can't just walk through walls. The windows -- " So many things to worry about and he worried over how she'd gotten herself in. He turned to look at the closed windows, suggesting that said stranger didn't use that to get into his room. "H-how do you know my name?"
(☾☆) — The connotation of the song had been literal in this case. Rosemary was in the city for work, and actually is five hundred miles away from home. She doesn’t know much about the city or its reputation so she doesn’t think her behavior is an oddity. When money is held out to her she blinks several times before suddenly shaking her head. There appeared to be a slight misunderstanding, though it was completely reasonable. With a hint of blush on her cheeks she shook her head. ❝Thank you so much but I’m not playing for money, I am just trying to entertain my son.❞
Gotham's reputation was bad, everything spells corruption inside the city. Although it was unlikely that people from outside would know. They view Gotham as a well-built city with success in every corner of the city. What they don't know is how the city has been controlled and manipulated by the mafias underneath it all. Thoughts aside, hazel pairs shifted to her little companion. A frown was fast to mask his face. Children weren't safe around here; not even if accompanied with their parents. "Oh no don't worry. I don't mind." He replied instead, having a hand waving at her as if to ask her to keep the few dollars he'd gave her. "But it's dangerous to do street busking around her. You don't want to attract all the mean people"
