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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 4, 2013 20:42:21 GMT
So this was it, huh? This was the great Wayne mansion, the place her father supposedly lived. Just what in the world was she doing here anyway? She set her two suit cases down outside the gate and tried to act natural. She prided herself on her ability to just fade into the background; but, there was no way in hell that was happening here. She wasn't rich. Far from it. At the moment she was penniless and directionless on top of it. She wasn't bitter about it, though. This was the price of freedom from Jacques. All of this was done by her own hand. She could have lived a very comfortable life as her father's pawn for however long he lived. But she was sick and tired of his control and manipulation. On the plus side, at the moment she was her own woman. On the downside, she was completely broke; and, she lacked any form of resources. She commanded no one's loyalty and her father had ensured that she had a good number of enemies. If anyone followed her here she was screwed. All she had to her name were the clothes off her back and everything she had stuffed inside these two suitcases, namely poisons and antidotes. But...If someone came after her that wouldn't really help. She would still need some time to prepare them.
What exactly was she expecting from her biological father anyway? He didn't even know she existed. Why should he bother to help her? No one else had. Why now of all times was she clinging to optimism? Coming here was probably a really stupid idea. Even supposing they'd let a complete stranger into the Wayne mansion they'd probably screen her first. And then they'd see all the poisons she carried. They'd think she was some sort of assassin. Of course that wasn't exactly too far off; but, she was washing her hands of that business. Or trying to. Her father was dead. Hopefully everyone else would leave her alone.
Well..She was here now. What was she supposed to do next? If she lingered too long people would get suspicious and ask what she was doing; and, she'd have no good answer to give them. And her poisons wouldn't exactly inspire confidence. If only she knew Alfred Pennyworth's personal phone number; but, it seemed that information was carefully guarded. In any case..She really didn't want to have that conversation over the telephone. It would be awkward enough to have in person. So again...What now? What exactly was she supposed to do?! She had no contacts, no job, no shelter, no resources...Nothing. Nothing but the suitcases of poisons. Yes, she loved her precious poisons but poisons couldn't fix everything. They couldn't magically give her a home and stability. Just...What should she do now?! Although she was panicking a bit inside, her exterior appeared perfectly calm and composed. She sat down on the ground, deep in thought. She wasn't ready to rush into anything yet. But however she looked at her options, they all sucked. She had thoroughly screwed herself over by murdering Jacques. Yes, she was under no delusions of what she had done. She had killed him. Even if it wasn't directly by her hand it was her plan and her poison. The responsibility rested firmly on her shoulders. But she didn't regret it. He was a despicable man and she didn't want to be trapped inside his chessboard forever. Still...What now? What to do now.
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 16:52:02 GMT
A man walked up towards the gate, stopping a bit behind Julia. He looked out over Wayne Manor, at the splendor owned by a single man. To people it might seem a bit much, even for someone with as much money as Bruce Wayne. Sometimes the man thought so as well, but at other times he didn't particularly care.
"It's quite a sight, isn't it?" he asked, taking a few steps towards her, hands in his pockets as he casually looked up at the manor.
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 19:24:40 GMT
Distracted as she was, Julia had noticed the man approach her. No matter what personal dilemmas you were dealing with it was foolish and outright dangerous to lose sight of what was around you. Maybe people born in a higher class society would think otherwise; but, they would be wrong. Everyone had enemies. True, Julia might have more than normal; but, the fact still remained that everyone had them. Even if you yourself weren't aware of it, there were people that hated you and coveted what was yours. You always had more than someone. A common thief might find you an appealing target. At the very least she wouldn't have her poisons stolen by a common thief.
Well this man might be a thief but if he was he wasn't common. His clothes were too good for that. He looked like he might belong inside this very manner. She hadn't been to Gotham city before. She knew no one. Still..It nagged at her that this man looked familiar; but, she couldn't imagine why.
She stood up when the man spoke to her and turned to face him. She had only been viewing him out of her peripheral vision before. He hadn't made any daring moves so there had been no need to be particularly cautious. He looked like he belonged here, unlike her.
"Looks like whoever owns this place has a nice chunk of change," she acknowledged. She supposed it was beautiful; but, Julia was a practical woman who didn't typically have much time for beauty. It was a luxury only afforded to those well off. Despite the wealth of her adopted father, she could never be counted among those numbers. Of course she had been gifted nice things from Jacques; but, she was an investment who was typically too busy with other matters to care much for them. Besides she hated all of his presents. They were further proof that he owned her and she was thoroughly leashed to him. She asked for little outside what was necessary for her to accomplish her tasks. The lab was tied to her work as was her string of computers. The only thing she really asked for herself were books. It wasn't that she couldn't admire pretty places. She liked to take walks around and see the sights when she wasn't working. However, at the moment she was a bit distracted. She had no where to live, no money, no references to help obtain a job. No anything. The pretty building wasn't really her chief concern.
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 19:30:27 GMT
"Yes, I suppose he does," the man told her. "Or I do, I should say."
He wasn't going to keep playing a game, he was just going to be open with it. "Bruce Wayne, and who might you be, standing here at my gate with baggage? Too old to be an accidentally sired child of mine," he joked, trying to keep up with some of the public assumption of who he was, and what he was like, "Trying to move in? Trying to get in bed with me?"
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 19:47:11 GMT
Julia grinned when he said 'I do'. She hated being in the dark; and, she loved solving mysteries. So that was why he looked so familiar! This was the legendary Bruce Wayne. She hadn't been too interested in Mr. Wayne himself. She only cared about him with respect to how he was connected with her father. However, when she had been conducting her research about her father it had been beyond simple to find a picture of Mr. Wayne. There were a number of articles published about the wealthy playboy. Was that why he was bothering to talk to her because he had an interest in women? But surely Mr. Wayne could pick up whoever he wanted. Wouldn't her prefer someone higher class? Well then she supposed there were rich guys who favored playing around with poor girls. Not like Julia looked poor. Although it had taken up some space she decided it was worthwhile to pack a comb and brush and some decent clothes. She didn't want to meet her father looking like a hobo, after all. She was wearing a pretty red shirt and a knee length black skirt today. Normally she'd prefer jeans; but, she wanted to look extra nice in case she could arrange to meet her father through some miracle. She really was being too overly optimistic.
And then the question of who she was. Just...How exactly should she play this? She hadn't been expecting to meet the famous Bruce Wayne. Her father didn't know her.
Trying to get in bed with him? Yeah right. Julia wasn't a virgin. She had needed to use her womanly charms to accomplish some unsavory missions; but, left to her own devices she'd really rather not screw around with men. If she said yes it was possible she could meet her father; but, she really didn't want it to unfold that way.
She laughed. "No, much too old to be one of yours," she agreed. "Not trying to sleep with you either. I'm sure you don't need any help in that department." Name. Was it wise to even use the name Remarque? She really didn't want people knowing where she went. First name was fine though. You couldn't easily track someone down based on the name Julia. Still...Her ticket was easily traceable enough. She had bought that under the name Julia Remarque; but, chances were no one would pester the billionaire about her. No, if they would deal with Mr. Wayne they'd want bigger fish than her.
"Julist Remarque," she finally admitted. So then...About why she was here...With baggage. Maybe he wouldn't ask again. She doubted it; but, she'd let that slide for now. She really had no idea of what to say. My Dad works here and I want to meet him; but, he doesn't know I exist? Too unbelievable and kind of lame. He'd think she was just trying to scam him for money or something.
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 20:30:35 GMT
"Julia Remarque...," he muttered, running that name around in his head a bit. The surname sounded like it might be vaguely familiar, but he didn't make any connections with it. But he had something more important to ask about first, rather than try to figure out names and identities.
"Just what is it you're doing here?" he asked, "I occasionally find people standing outside my gates, asking for handouts or things like that. I have a feeling you're not one of them. So, what is it then?"
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 20:38:46 GMT
And of course he asked again. She didn't think she could avoid it forever. And she best not take too long answering anyway. She was as suspicious as hell standing outside his gate with two suitcases like this. No..She wasn't technically here looking for a handout. More help. She figured it would be best to give as little information as possible. Give it to him in doses.
"I heard a man named Alfred Pennworth works here," she began confidently. She didn't feel confident at all but she knew how to play the part. "Is it true that he is still employed in this manner?" she asked. She hadn't heard anything about his death but if he had died she was really screwed. Maybe not so much more than if he was alive. She had no reason to believe he would help her. But if he couldn't help her she'd really have no choice but to go back to the criminal underworld. And she really, really didn't want that.
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 20:50:45 GMT
"Alfred?" he asked her. Ok, so that was different, an interest in a member of his staff, rather than him. That was definitely new. He'd play along with this for now, because this was interesting. He really wanted to see where this was going.
"Yes, he's employed here. I don't think he's ever going to leave," it came out as a half joke, but it was the truth. He never wanted Alfred to leave, unless he needed to, unless he was no longer able to work. He loved Alfred, he confided in Alred.
"What do you need with him?"
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 21:10:11 GMT
Okay good. He was still alive and better yet he was still here. She didn't need to worry about that. Of course the odds of him helping her were God only knew what and meeting him..That itself would be difficult. She really didn't think Bruce Wayne would let any pretty thing that spoke to him off the street into his home to supposedly meet his staff. Even the women he brought in to sleep with were probably guarded outside their knowledge.
He didn't think he was ever going to leave? Was that a rich delusion or did that mean her father was really happy working there? She hoped he was happy. Well that was if he was a decent human being. For all she knew this Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth were exactly like Jacques Remarque and herself. Seemingly decent people running a legitimate business but wrapped up in all sorts of illegal tidings off book. What if Alfred was like Remarque? Then all her murder would have resulted in was a change of ownership. She'd still be trapped in the underworld, only with no hope of further help. That would really suck. She hoped it wouldn't come down to that but then she had no reason to believe otherwise. She knew nothing about the real face of Alfred Pennyworth or Bruce Wayne. Yes although alluring, optimism was dangerous. She didn't want to be more disappointed and crushed than she had to be if all her hopes came crashing down around her ears. She really shouldn't even use the word if. It was probably a when not an if.
Okay. More questions. Stall for time and hope she can think of something more intelligent and believable to say. "I want to talk to him."
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 21:20:52 GMT
He watched her for a few minutes, his eyes running over her body. He had been trained to understand people, he was looking into body language, into anything he could get off of her. He came up to her eyes, gauging them, trying to see what he could learn off of them.
Talk to Alfred...this could be something important. Why would anyone want to get inside of Wayne Manor just to kill Bruce Wayne's butler? Or was it that someone would try to enter under that pretext, and come for him? But he could handle himself, if such a thing were to happen.
"Very well," he said, "And why is that?"
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 21:30:55 GMT
As expected, she hadn't gained that much more time. He'd given her a quick once over. She wasn't sure why. Was he trying to determine if she carried concealed weapons? She didn't. Everything was in her suit cases. Was he trying to figure out if she was lying? She wasn't; but, she wouldn't expect him to believe that. It would be stupid to do so. Someone could easily pull that lie to try to enter the Wayne manner and cause havoc, steal something or kill someone or whatever.
She herself wasn't really sure what she was feeling beyond confusion. But her default setting was to appear proud and confident. There were plenty of people in the underworld who would trample you underfoot if you didn't exude confidence.
"I want to confirm something." She really needed to figure out how to put it soon. He'd tire of her avoidance.
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 21:32:48 GMT
"Tell me one more thing," he told her. This part still nagged at him to a greater extent, "Why do you have those suitcases?" Was she just passing through, and wanted to see him on the way? Or did she have something else in mind? The suitcases were the part that was really confusing him.
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 21:45:30 GMT
It took all of her will power to keep her eyes from flicking back towards her suitcases. They were fine. No one else was here. No one else had touched them. If she was too protective it would make her seem even more suspicious. Should she be honest? At least partially? If she was allowed entrance through some incredible stroke of luck someone would definitely search through her things and be more than little concerned with their contents. Giving part of the truth would help. At least with respect to why she had the baggage.
"I'm in trouble," she admitted. "I hoped Alfred Pennyworth could help me." Now how to directly explain the suitcases. She didn't want to appear too desperate. "I packed some things because I can't return to where I used to live." And how was that not too desperate? She sounded perfectly calm but the words themselves were troubling. Should she admit to the contents? Well he'd figure it out at some point.
"And I know this will be really hard to believe but I'm not trying to hurt anyone. See those suitcases are mostly filled with poisons and antidotes. I'm a toxicologist and poisons are my fascination. I wouldn't expect to be allowed access to them should I through some miracle be allowed to see Alfred Pennyworth. I'm only mentioning the poisons now so you don't think I was trying to smuggle them into your home."
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Post by Bruce Wayne on Aug 5, 2013 21:49:35 GMT
"You're honest," he said immediately, assuming there were indeed poisons on the inside of the suitcases. He might check into that. "Fine," he told her, opening his gate. "Come with me, bring your suitcases. I'll be locking them up in the meantime, however." That made sense, make sure they were kept in a safe place on the off chance that something went wrong.
He trusted her. He still didn't know who she was, but she needed help. He could tell that much; those words were honest. He started towards the manor, beckoning her to come.
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Post by Julia Remarque on Aug 5, 2013 22:01:16 GMT
Julia, honest? She was many things but honest wasn't one of them. How many lies had she told through omission or otherwise in her 25 years? Someone in her position couldn't afford the luxury of honesty. Honesty meant death, prison, or best case scenario orphanage in a scum city with no future. But now she was hoping to build a future. Hopefully the luxury of honesty could become hers.
"I'm not," she corrected him. Mr. Wayne must be a really poor judge of character. She had probably told more lies than truths in her 25 years.
She was confused when he invited her inside. She stared at him like he was a crazy person. "I appreciate the kindness; but, why are you allowing a stranger into your home? You have no proof that I am who I say I am or that Alfred Pennyworth even knows me. Furthermore I've admitted to carrying poisons. Who is to say that I don't have someone on the inside who can give me what I need to accomplish what I want?" she questioned. Was Mr. Wayne really so naive and trusting that he'd believe she wasn't up to no good? She wasn't but the circumstances really didn't vouch for that. It almost upset her, seeing someone willing to trust someone as shady as her. And Alfred Pennyworth didn't actually know her. She couldn't forget that.
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