The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel & Fyri)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Lucetta on 02-05-2015, 20:42:21</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>02-05-2015, 20:42:21</strong>
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				In a world without Batman or Catwoman...<br><br>Every city has it's light and dark sides. There was the darker part of Metropolis, a town established in 1612 by a wealthy and honorable family. Some people called it Oldtown. Some people called it Gotham. Helena Wayne, daughter of the deceased Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne, simply called it Home. Unlike the light side of the city, the people of Oldtown showed their true colors on the outside. All of their kindness and love. All of their greed and hatred. The few exceptions wore a literal mask. Many of these exceptions had been placed in Arkham, which had been once been the Wayne family estate. In the late 1700's, "Mad" Anthony Wayne inspired the family to use their manor for researching the mentally ill. The city's oldest structures stood as a literal fortress, designed perfectly to this day to make entry and exit into an easily-guarded ordeal. And the new Wayne Manor overlooked this castle from afar, as if watching over it like a silent sentinel in the dim fog of the early morning.<br><br>"Alfred?!" Helena called out as she stretched in her old-fashioned pajamas, still not quite awake.<br><br>The aged butler opened the door to her bedroom as if he had already been walking up to it. It was as if he had predicted that his young employer would wake up at this time. <em>And this is the way it had always been since the dawn of time</em>, Helena's imaginative young mind quipped silently. Despite his years and peppered grey hair, Alfred Pennyworth was an intimidating but dashing man who assisted Helena in matters of the home. She had been mostly away for four years on a strange series of educational trips she didn't talk about, but he had always kept in contact with her when he could, making sure that she took care of herself. His concern for her was aging him a little faster with distance, and he seemed rather chipper lately with the recent change of situation. "Hand-to-hand training today, Miss? Perhaps some fencing?" the butler asked in his incorrigible British accent as he held up a small platter with herbal tea and a single digestive biscuit on it.<br><br>Helena partook of her morning ritual daintily, not quite finishing the chocolate frosted wheat cookie but indulging in the mint tea. She was a beautiful and strong young woman. It was her sixteenth birthday, but Alfred had learned not to celebrate it because of what had happened on this day four years ago. He simply treated this like any other day, and he was wonderful to Helena for doing just that. "Perhaps later, Alfred. The cat ate the canary while I was away, and there is work to be done." Alfred smiled grimly at the deftly delivered analogy and nodded slowly to his employer. He was aware that Wayne Enterprises, the oldest business in the country, had been indirectly involved in some scandals over the past four years with a few of its subsidized ventures. Like all good Wayne heirs and heiresses, Helena's prerogative for the next few months would be weeding out corruption and restoring her business to honorable and wholesome practices.<br><br>"And how do you intend to capture them, Miss Wayne? That cork board in your office can't fit any more pictures or yarn. Perhaps I should order us another?" The butler always had a way of making Helena smile in amusement, which was a rare sight since four years ago. "That actually would be nice, Alfred. The web of their lies is getting a little big for that board. But what I am considering is getting a fresh pair of eyes to look it over and think it through. A pair of eyes that they can't intimidate or buy, that has a point of view other than your military experience or my criminology major." Alfred pondered the young woman's words for a moment, then snapped his fingers to express a moment of realization. "A pair of eyes that specialize in psychology, you mean. If I didn't see it coming until you tipped your hand, they'll be blindsided by it. Where are we going so early today, Miss?"<br><br>Helena stroked her chin with a thoughtful smile, "To the Metropolis University Job Fair... I've worked so hard to make sure nobody would know we're going precisely there." Alfred raised an incredulous eyebrow in response to Helena's boast. "You mean embarrassing yourself at the comic book convention yesterday was work? Not to mention that unladylike incident in which you arrived stripped to nothing but your frilly underpants and underage drunkedness last night." And in response, Helena had her most playful smile equipped. "The media needs to focus on making everyone think I'm just another worthless brat with too much money if this is all going to work. What's wrong with at least enjoying myself while creating that illusion? I'd rather be at home with a book, but this is how things must be now."<br><br>Alfred seemed a little surprised despite the years he had spent learning from this brilliant young lady's parents as a butler. "Well... That's actually rather clever. Just make sure the Helena you want them to see doesn't become the real one. People are already bidding on that silly costume on eBay." This comment was enough to get a chuckle out of Helena. Her smokescreen was working better than planned.<br><br><div align="center">(http://i.imgur.com/1wuGRqW.jpg)</div><br>The media frenzy as she walked to the car to leave her estate seemed just as crowded and horrible as it did when her parents had been mugged and killed in front of her four years ago. She recalled crying and telling people to leave her alone back then. This time, she looked fierce and stoic as she walked through the crowd like she owned it. The equivalent of dropping the microphone and walking off of the stage after her performance last night. She had made a point of wearing one of her mother's old dresses that day, and the white boa really brought out her piercing grey eyes for the cameras. If there was anything her education overseas taught her, it was that appearances meant a lot to a public that adored their rich and famous. She looked like a young lady who was acting out because her parents were dead and nobody could scold her for being bad last night.<br><br>After leaving the paparazzi behind, Alfred took care to watch his mirrors. He wound his way through traffic to Gotham's best casino, where he dropped Helena off briefly. She wound her way through the usual daytime party and rubbed elbows with a few fairly harmless celebrities before pretending to freshen up and slipping out an employee access door where Alfred was waiting. It meant being late for the job fair, but it meant truly losing the media for a while. The bouncers knew not to stop Helena because of her influence in the town, and they knew not to talk about her being in an alley if they wanted to keep their jobs.<br><br>Finally, the richest woman in Metropolis walked into the job fair at the University on the "light" side of the city. She seemed to have calmed down a bit, but was still feeling a little wary of her surroundings. She took some time to change into some attire that costed less and drew less attention to herself before manning a tiny, previously abandoned booth as a potential employer. She drew her family crest on a piece of cardboard, folded it in half, and set it on the table so casually like a child about to sell lemonade. This late in the job fair, she expected the sort of majors that hired the least people would gather to her table. And she expected the sort of people that didn't have the attention of her enemies would be the ones left without a job, too.<br><br>She was polite to another young lady and actually offered her a partial internship as a maid. This was enough to dissuade the candidate and make them wander off with a business card and an "I'll think about it." The rest of the day was spent repeating this action in a similar manner over and over, sometimes turning an obnoxious fanboy or fangirl of her recent deeds away or redirecting people to her company's official booth in another hall. Finally, Helena was just about ready to give up as some of the employers started packing up with new employees in tow, some of them looking at her like she was telling a rude joke. Still, she waited, hoping someone was running late and would take an internship even if it didn't seem so great. That was the kind of person she was looking for. Somebody who was that poor and unconnected. She would consider it a bonus if they didn't recognize her as famous. Chewing on a pencil became the last resort for keeping herself awake.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>03-05-2015, 09:35:36</strong>
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				<div align="center">(http://images4.fanpop.com/image/photos/19500000/ben-barnes-2011-ben-barnes-19572007-300-400.jpg)</div><br><br>Ice and snow stretched out endlessly around him. Estranged, jagged edges of stone and rock pierced the blanket of shades of white and blue. The sky was stormy, a blizzard brewing thickly. It did not affect him in the slightest. Impervious to cold and heat he was, only the ingrained routine of normalcy keeping him clothed at all. He is Clark Kent, adoptive son of a farmer and his wife, birth parents unknown. All he knew was that they were not of this world.<br><br>Three years ago, he had left Smallville, Kansas behind, his restless blood calling to him to see more of the world than the mutant ridden farmer's community. He wanted to find the clues to pinpoint his origins, to find if there were more like him, to find people he could be himself around. As a child, the farm with its endless fields had been perfect. School had been difficult. Nowadays, college was impossible. Every square inch of the western world was filmed, recorded and often streamed live to the Internet. Every person above the age of three had a mobile camera in any of the electronic devices they carried with them. Even the tiniest slip up would mean discovery.<br><br>Clark had a self control and will of steel, of diamond even. Unyielding, strong, as invulnerable as his skin. But not even he could live a life where he had to hide everything, constantly, where he had to pretend to be a human when he was not.<br><br>He had travelled the world since he was a fifteen year old orphan. He had seen the Sahara and the Himalayas. Hong Kong and Sydney. He had seen farms and cities and everything in between. He had seen the beauty of the Amazon and the terror of slavery in all but name. He had seen hope and dreams, those same things shattered in fountains of blood and destruction. He had saved lives from the shadows, moving too quick to see, rumours of a guardian angel looking like a. Greek God left in his wake.<br><br>But the day he turned eighteen, the crystal shard, shaped like a crystalline flash drive, the only piece that could be removed from his ship, started thrumming. Only he could see and hear it. He had been wearing it around his neck, the only piece of his origin except the ship the Kents kept hidden in the farm's storm cellar under layers of dust, tarp and piled crates of self canned foods. <br><br>The thrumming had acted like a compass, causing him to end up here, in the absolute middle of nowhere, just a few miles south of the magnetic pole of Earth. He glanced down at the black crystal in his hand. It started flashing the closer he got to the glacier ahead. In a blur, he crossed the distance. His vision shifted to X-ray and its varieties he had mastered, showing him a shape of metal the size of a battle cruiser buried deep beneath the ice.<br><br>Eyes flashed red in liquid heat. Eyelids seemed to char over. Pure flame and heat, focused in powerful beams lashed out and instantly vaporised the ice ahead, drilling deeper and deeper in seconds, until he made a tunnel to a cavern next to the metallic shape in the ice. He jumped and slid down the ice glide, until he landed in the cavern. What little light fell in through his entrance illuminated the shape of a ship that was obviously not of this world. It had the same elegant, crystalline, yet metallic and almost organic yet stylised design as the small ship he had arrived in.<br><br>It was beautiful.<br><br>The crystal thrummed brighter and louder, before falling silent. A door, an air lock, swished open and Clark walked in.<br><br>Through a holographic, three dimensional projection no human could properly perceive, he finally heard the message embedded in the crystalline key as he had come to call it.<br><br>He was Kal El of Krypton, Last Son of a once noble race that had explored all the stars of this galactic cluster. Through enemies from outside and more enemies on the inside, Krypton had found its end in deepest betrayal when civil war tore apart the core of the isolate,d xenophobic and besieged planet, its destruction taking half the besieging Shi'Ar fleet with it. He had been sent to Earth, not just because humans looked like Kryptonians. Not even because the yellow sun would make him a living God. Bonuses that ensured his survival, but the ultimate goal was to unite the stones of power, hidden by the House of El on Earth millennia ago, with this very ship.<br><br>Together, they would form the Codex, the self updating collective of all knowledge ever gathered by Krypton. It was the only heritage Jor El could leave to his son, the knowledge to become something more, the power to become the embodiment of hope and inspiration unburdened by the fading, militaristic society of the once prestigious Krypton that had stood valiantly for centuries against invaders and besiegers fuelled by their envy, with Kryptonians outnumbered by the millions to one. <br><br>The technology that had allowed them to stand against such tides had been their downfall, provoking the greed of more and more powerful foes until that greed for power infected their own, leading to that devastating civil war led by Zod.<br><br>Kal El awoke from the immersive hologram, purpose clear, finally armed with answers and the clues to find more answers. He was happy he knew his name, but devastated that after all of his searching, he was still and would always be alone. That much was obvious, considering his powers. Strength that kept growing, speed that kept growing, invulnerability that could withstand any temperature and even missile launchers... Where did it end? And every day under this yellow sun, he got just a little more powerful, apparently.<br><br>When his vision returned to the present, he came face to face with a pod containing one of the suits worn by Kryptonians, in a dark, dark blue, with a somehow bright yet dark red symbol. The crest of the house of El, the glyph of Hope.<br><br>Due to the dark colours, even the red of the majestic cape was in a dark shade, he wouldn't look ridiculous, but he would still stand out, so Clark quickly rolled the suit up and stuffed it in his trusty duffle bag. Slowly, he crawled up through the tube, back to fresh air, then used his frost breath to seal the entrance.<br><br>Armed with purpose, he started walking south, back to civilisation.<br><br>To the largest city in the world, Metropolis, the city he could become the symbol of Hope his birth parents wanted him to be and his adoptive parents had raised him to be. And as the largest city and hubbub of information across the globe, it was the perfect place to start searching for clues about the mystical stones of power once left behind by his people. Thankfully, during his travels and thanks to his eidetic memory and genius level intelligence -perk from being the heir of a highly advanced alien civilisation- he had taken online courses in several college degree majors during his world travels. While he had learned dozens of languages and hundreds of cultures and the history of the world, he had also studied investigative journalism, psychology and law, born from his desire to be a journalist that could use the pen to change the world.<br><br>A desire now faltering, since upon arriving at Metropolis, he only found corruption. Even in journalism, which was supposed to be the watchdog against political abuse of power and corruption. He quickly learned he would never be able to write what he wanted if he joined a newspaper or media agency in the darkened City of Tomorrow.<br><br>His funds were running low and he still hadn't found a place to sleep, so after three weeks of job hunting and being confronted with naught but more corruption and crime, he went to a job fair in a last ditch effort to secure himself a job. Still, many companies represented here either were looking for people with different degrees or were burdened under the same corruption... Until he found a small booth, with a cardboard drawn plaque and the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen sitting behind it. His eidetic memory tingled in recognition, but he couldn't quite grasp her name just yet. She only looked familiar.<br><br>"Hi! I'm Clark Kent. Obviously, in looking for a job, but I haven't found my... Thing... Just yet. I was wondering what you had on offer or what you were looking for, miss?" He greeted her, with a powerful handshake and his incredibly handsome face displaying his famous megawatt smile that Clark was completely unaware off could make any girl melt to a puddle of pleased goo.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>03-05-2015, 10:44:24</strong>
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				The young heiress was not one to daydream. Instead, her mind wandered down the path of criminologist deduction, reviewing case files that she had been familiar with for a few years. Every insane criminal locked up in Arkham wandered through her mind, repeating acts of violence and leaving evidence behind for her to analyze. Alliances and rivalries between them that were both real and fictional were played out, ending with one criminal standing on top for a good reason in the end and the odds of the loser surviving being meticulously calculated on a paper on her desk.<br><br>Waiting was never fun, but there were ways to fill the time. To make oneself more prepared for what could happen next. She was already done with the whole Arkham roster and was thinking about what to do if someone she could actually use against the corruption of her own company came along today. And if they didn't, what sort of nerdy party to crash in what skimpy costume next. In fact, she realized that she had enough time to make an even better costume than she wore last night if she left now. And so, as she was waiting for the sun to set so she could put thoughts into fabric, something she couldn't have prepared for happened.<br><br>He was tall and dressed casually. The jacket was merely a suggestion that he wanted a job, but his unshaven face and overly abundant hair that had merely been slicked back suggested that he was really looking for something else. Helena was familiar with the cesspool of every culture and how to read anyone, but this man seemed familiar with the honest side of every culture and to already be reading her. Some instinct told her that there was no way that this man was corrupted, but that he had something to hide, himself, and was bad at hiding it.<br><br>Even now, she knew that her face was going to be on the new cover of Forbes for officially taking control of her estate as the 6th richest person in the world as of today. But here was a man so handsome that he could have made the cover worth staring at for a long while. Helena was trying to decide how to react to that. She decided that he was more than looks that she would react to him professionally... for now. The handshake felt right. Firm and warm and full of strength. She wasn't afraid to return the handshake with a hidden strength of her own, not as a student of her education all around the world but as a survivor of it.<br><br>Helena had nearly become a pile of pleased goo herself, but she wouldn't let her hormones get the better of her. Working through the weakness in her knees, she managed to keep her tone calm and her words logical. It was as easy for her as putting on a mask. There was no time for real romance. Not right now. "My family has always been good at finding things. There is the increasingly common occasion that we know what to do with them. What I'm looking for is an analyst. Someone who can help me find things faster, prove them to be real, and show them to the world so that things can change. The pay is competitive to that of a local journalist, with bonuses and vacations based on results. And if working for me is not your Thing... Well... I can leave a useful job reference for you after you work with me for three months."<br><br>What slipped out loud from Helena's mouth surprised herself, "Maybe your next job around that time could be posing early for Spring catalogs." She performed a careful save and managed to maintain the interview atmosphere with a vague gesture of dismissal to the short-lived topic. "That consideration aside, what job experience do you have and what do you see yourself doing in five years?"<br><br>In the next five years, she saw herself finally dislodging her foot from her mouth in the presence of handsome young men. This was why she fabricated scandals with nerds by participating in cosplay. The risk of her hormones flaring up like this was relatively low in that environment... It was easier when everyone was in disguise as somebody else.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>03-05-2015, 12:36:03</strong>
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				Clark was drinking in her beauty in turn, so he didn't notice the effect his looks or his smile had on her. Clark had been raised in modesty and despite all his powers, he didn't have a high self esteem or ego. It was a result of being bullied often for being a 'strange one' during his high school years, especially since he had been smart enough to skip several grades, hence why he had a triple college degree on his eighteenth without much trouble. As a result, he wasn't aware that by now, he was tall and the perfect combination of athletic slenderness and powerfully muscular. He didn't look like a body builder, but more like a martial artist that had spent a decade honing his craft and his body. Add the fact he had the chiselled features of a Greek God, almost unnaturally sapphire blue eyes and was easily six foot four in length, he was quite the attractive and imposing presence.<br><br>He blushed when she mentioned his next job possibly being a spring catalogue model, but he quickly gathered himself and answered her questions.<br><br>"In five years, I want to gave a decent career. I'm not intending to be the CEO of a company, but I would like to think I'd have built up enough experience for a reasonable resume and a steady position at a company or a media agency. I want to earn enough to live comfortably, but still have enough time to do the things I like and feel are important. Perhaps that tells you I'm not driven enough, but to me, life isn't about work or how much money you make. It is about what you do with your life, that's important and I want to have the time and luxury to do my best to change the world for the better. I had once hoped to do so with my work as a journalist but I'm turned down by the open corruption at the places I interviewed at. I will never look the other way to let a crime or injustice go unpunished or unchallenged, hence why I'm still looking for work. In fact, with my job, and my life, I want to make a difference and perhaps what you are offering now doesn't grant me that immediately, but I intend to prove myself... And I get the impression you want to use the information I dig up to make changes for the better as well." He admitted, deducting her intentions boldly.<br><br>"As for experience... I'm eighteen years old, miss. I haven't got a job resume or a list of job experiences. I graduated with three college majors at an age most people still need to even start college and I've spent years travelling the world, getting to know people and more importantly learning how people communicate, how they feel, how they think and what drives them, all across the world. I also speak over two dozen languages fluently, which I think is useful as an analyst and I'm not too bad with numbers, either, though I've specialised more in the written word than numbers when majoring. That is all I've got to offer to you, but I would also like to know what you offer to me beyond vaguely calling it an analyst." He told her, again boldly, showing her he wasn't a pushover of any kind and despite the fact he was looking for a job and needed the money, he wouldn't just take anything that would go against his conscience.<br><br>"Besides... Should I grace any spring catalogues, I'm quite certain I'll find you in the variety of the opposite gender." He complimented her.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>04-05-2015, 16:44:14</strong>
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				Somehow, the young man managed to get cuter when he blushed. The multibillionaire made a mental note to herself to make him blush often while she had the chance. This was a quality of entertainment that she could get used to after barely surviving in the harsher regions of the world as some sort of insane spiritual quest her parents' will sent her on. She loved them a lot and wanted to honor their memory, but it just hadn't been her idea of fun at all. And cleaning up their company wasn't going to be fun, either.<br><br>She maintained eye contact and listened to him as he admitted his circumstances but proved to be as educated as she herself would be within the next two years. She wrote down "not too ambitious," "lack of work experience," "an intelligent life form," "incredibly gorgeous," "potential do-gooder," and "can jump to conclusions" on a paper on the desk as he talked to her. She would be distracted by how handsome he was if she didn't do something with her hands, and she looked down at handwriting that was great even when she didn't watch herself write things to consider what this young man had to offer. She could handle any science, business, or criminology aspects that they ran into during their investigations. That comment on the magazine including pictures of her made her giggle a little in spite of her usually strong, almost lion-like composure.<br><br>"What I'm asking for is help to clean out some corruption alongside of me. After that, I'll need younger and less corrupt people to take over certain aspects of my family's estate. You would make a great fit for Public Relations afterward, reporting company breakthroughs to media agencies and keeping the public informed of the truths of the company at press conferences to get people through false rumors. It would be a rather demanding and boring job at first, but a lot easier with very flexible hours once we weed the place out. If you could keep from getting corrupted yourself and remain socially active in the company, I could perhaps rely on you to help maintain a clean house by being a bit of an informant when it comes to unethical business practices. There would be some travel involved at times, and a lot of the more recent travel needs to be to Japan."<br><br>Helena tilted her head to the side a little for a moment, as if the little gears in her head were spinning differently now as she heard something on a radio in one of the classrooms. She then cleared her throat and smiled at the young man again. "To meet you halfway, I'm Helena Wayne. As of today after four years of education abroad, I'm the heiress and owner of Wayne Enterprises. So, you know where I live and that's where we can finish the application at 10:00 AM..." She thought carefully again. "Scratch that... Noon tomorrow if you're interested. You're not competing with anyone else for the job, and I'm grateful for your time but have just ran out of my own for the evening."<br><br>The radio host could be heard from the radio in the other room, <em>Nobody knows for sure what inspired the string of petty robberies and assaults, but the witnesses and Oldtown Police described the gang leader as wearing a red hood. Could this be a copycat to the Red Hood incidents from a decade ago? Commisioner Gordon, what's your opinion on the matter?</em>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>06-05-2015, 18:00:55</strong>
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				Clark listened attentively to what she was saying. It helped that he had great hearing and an eidetic memory, so he immediately remembered everything by heart. He also noticed -thank you alien vision gizmos that were genetically a part of him- what she wrote and how she wrote it. From her beautiful handwriting to the specific words. Hence why he blushed again when he read how she noted down that he was incredibly gorgeous and this coming from a girl so beautiful he imagined her to be far out of his league, due to his rather low self esteem.<br><br>So, she wanted him to act as a sort of spy in a company, befriending the employees to determine their leanings and to determine whether or not they were corrupt, while also working on gather all kinds of information to determine the same for higher ranking people in the company.<br><br>He wasn't opposed to the job description, since it was essentially what he would have done as a reporter. It was just uncommon to be asked to do this in a large company, from apparently someone highly ranked I n such a company despite her age. His suspicion as to her identity started niggling again, but her beauty and the flow of luscious words from her pretty mouth kept him sufficiently distracted for the moment.<br><br>Suddenly ,everything happened quickly. There was a news flash on the radio and on the news stream on their cellphones. It had him rearing to go, for the Red Hood gang, whether original or copycat, was incredibly violent and it would be an excellent time to introduce His caped guise to the world as a symbol against crime and injustice. She introduced himself, confirming his growing suspicions and making Clark realise even more he should put his attraction to her on the back burner, for she was utterly and completely out of his league. She could get any guy she wanted, so she wouldn't pick an awkward, strange and nerdy farmboy that wasn't exactly popular with his peers.<br><br>He didn't pay much stock to her public reputation, for she had struck him now as a very intelligent and driven woman that wanted to clean up her company and he wanted to help her.<br><br>"I'll be there, tomorrow at noon!" He called after her as she disappeared with her butler. Clark, meanwhile, darted away as well and seconds later, after blurring through an alleyway, he was airborne and he let his superhearing guide him to the billowing clouds of smoke and the rattle of peppering gunfire tearing into police cars and injuring people. He sped up even more, before he dove down in a swirl of dark blue, a dark red cape, the serpentine, alien S symbol on his chest also a dark red on a golden background that seemed to possess an inner glow.<br><br>He stood between the cops and the criminals, who had taken cover on the entrance stairs of the national bank, which was lined with Grecian columns.<br><br>The bullets pelted him, cops and onlookers screamed in horror... But he remained standing, as crumpled clumps of lead rained down to the street fro mis chest, which remained unblemished. Everything fell silent, while he scanned the surroundings. There were no less than fifteen heavily armed thieves crouching in and before the bank, taking aim at him. One of them was wearing a red mask that obviously drew the attention, but not as much as his imposingly tall, blue and red clad form, the skintight, leather like material outline perfectly sculpted muscles, crowned by a handsome face, his dark hair slicked back. His composure and the change in hairstyle had him looking very, very unlike his Clark Kent self, not that anyone paid close enough attention to Clark Kent to recognise him anyway.<br><br>"Put your weapons down, please." He called out, striding forward slowly.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>07-05-2015, 03:44:05</strong>
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				It wasn't like Helena to find anyone attractive, much less gorgeous. But then, perhaps there was a chance that this Clark Kent was just as attractive on the inside as he was on the outside. If he could truly help her without being tarnished like others before him, she would entertain herself immensely by making him blush some more. For now, she put on a good act of fleeing the area for her own safety since the crime scene was only a few blocks away. A sudden flurry of snow swirled through the air. One of the region's surprise blizzards, famous since the late 1600's, was about to settle in. Unlike most major cities, this particular city could function as the snow piled up. Her ancestors had somehow assured this, at least in Oldtown. The good news was that it made it possible to complete the Christmas shopping. The bad news was that all the greatest criminals took advantage of "Money Season," which began just yesterday with Black Friday.<br><br>The back of the car was a difficult place to change, but Helena was incredibly flexible and a lot stronger than she looked. The sun was already setting, and she seemed to be under the impression that white and black would be her lucky colors tonight. "Alfred," she said, while applying a generous layer of black lipstick, "Continue to the mansion without me. Tonight is the night." Alfred smiled a little at the reflection of the young caped crusader and jokingly replied, "Enjoy your costume party, Miss Wayne. Try not to get drunk this time." Helena opened the door to the speeding car as her butler turned onto the privacy of a quiet alley and aimed a grappling gun without even looking, "I suppose I'll be a good girl this time." And with that, the car door closed and she was gone. "They grow up so fast," Alfred commented as he tuned the radio to a local AM station.<br><br><div align="center">~</div><br>Commissioner Gordon sped out of the radio station parking lot and reached over the hood of his old station wagon to slam a blue light into place on top of it. He had advised the citizens, who were old-fashioned and loved listening to the news, to try to stay away far from Oldtown bank because bullets had a way of ricocheting and this was indeed the loose cannon known as Red Hood. This job was graying his hair fast these days, but the city mileage wasn't slowing him down. He was on the scene in no time at all, and ducking behind the trusty old bullet-proof car to wait for a couple of other people to show up. What he had seen before ducking for cover had actually made him smile. A few more sirens blared and then died, and he was in a triangle of three undercover police vehicles that weren't quite undercover today. A man and a woman with similarly gray hair sat on either side of him, panting a little from their own rushing to get here. "Just like old times, but with a twist. There's a bullet-proof man in red and blue out there, and he seems to be on our side by default. Let your people know, Sheriffs." The Sheriffs of Oldtown and Newtown nodded and pulled out their walkie talkies. Naturally, Oldtown gave the signal first.<br><br><div align="center">~</div><br><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/uJ2QonQ.jpg)</div>Helena felt calm and serene as she glided silently through the cold snowflakes falling through the sky on bat-like wings of her own construction. She banked hard around a tall building and rose into a sudden stall above the First Bank of Metropolis, landing as silently as a bat on the rooftop and breaking into a just as silent sprint. She could hear the first snowflakes of the coming winter colliding with the roof, and it made her smile a little under her white cowl. She slid across an incline on the stone and landed on a gargoyle, crouching like the ninjas who taught her well overseas.<br><br>"Put your weapons, down, please," a strong voice called out. Helena pulled a small pair of binoculars from her toolbelt to get a closer look at the lone figure. The snow she had come in with began to fall on him. Either this newcomer was an idiot or very confident. As the Red Hood gang opened fire on him and the bullets bounced off of him, she decided that he was a mix of both. She changed what she was looking at, gazing at a man in a red hood. Copycats were easy to identify, but the seams in the hood confirmed that it was not a hood, but a helmet. This was the real deal, and he was clapping to applaud the bullet-proof man.<br><br>"Impressive! A man that we can't shoot to death! Aim for the eyes, boys and girls! Lets see if we can at least irritate him a bit!" Gunfire broke out again, concentrated skillfully on the face of the man who had told these people to disarm themselves. And that was an opportunity that Helena couldn't pass up. The people in the back ranks screamed and descended into chaos as a woman in black and white appeared out of nowhere and two of them went flying upwards into the sky to dangle from wires by their ankles. People fired at her, but she seemed to disappear, only to appear behind a couple more of them and violently knock their heads together. She was a flash of blackbelt karate one second, and a flash of sambo grappling the next, and six of the criminals were out of the fight. Fear surged through the faces of everyone who remained conscious and the less battle-hardened of them scattered like so many cockroaches even through the woman was comfortably and stealthily seated on the gargoyle because she was done beating them up for now. A few arrests were made behind police cars, along with a few baton beatings to make the more resistant criminals submit.<br><br>The Red Hood began a hasty retreat, leaping into a car with a few minions that were carrying stolen luxury goods from someone's private vault. The driver drove like a maniac in the direction of oldtown, tearing up the autumn-browned lawn and hopping a curb. "So long, freaks! I'll find where you hang your capes one day... And then I'll hang you from your capes!" the hooded man called out as he surprisingly evaded every police car, spike strip, and officer in his way. Gunfire only bounced off of the getaway car, which happened to be bulletproof. Six conscious and un-arrested members of the gang were abandoned, but they turned their fear of the girl in black and white into rage and charged toward the man in blue and red screaming with baseball bats, crowbars, and pipes in hand. They didn't want to go without at least trying to get revenge first. A pair of black wings whizzed by, unnoticed by most, as if a rather large bat was patiently following the getaway car above the city streets.<br><br>Helena kept up the chase where even the police fell behind and lost the Red Hood. She was suspicious of the bulletproof man, but at least he had been a helpful distraction. Leaping, grappling, and gliding through the snow was easier for her than walking after practicing for the past four years. She even performed some parkour on the side of Wayne Tower before firing her grappling hook at another structure, retracting the wire for some height, and gliding high through the air again. One of her childhood dreams had been capturing the Red Hood where others had failed, and she just wasn't patient enough to wait for another chance like this.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>08-05-2015, 17:48:53</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>Clark was more than just a helpful distraction, since he handled handfuls of the criminals. He noticed the slender figure of a female vigilante clad in some sort of black and white body armour, with a bat shaped motif and Cape taking out several of the crooks, before she follows the leader, who fled the scene in a getaway car. Clark couldn't pursue just yet, since he wanted to handle this without people dying. He knew he couldn't save everyone and that sometimes, bad people could only be stopped by death. And sometimes, there was war, which was a fight for survival above all else, so people died and maybe he would even be responsible for some deaths over the career as a crime fighter and symbol of justice he had started today with his first public appearance.<br><br>He was realistic enough to know death and destruction were sometimes inevitable, especially if the odds were that on the other side, the side of injustice, there were also people as powerful as him, but with far less morals and conscience.<br><br>He blurred across the scene and knocked out the remaining thugs easily, before he was whirlwind of activity across the bank and the plaza in front of it. While people blinked with their eyes in shock, rubble disappeared, crooks were lined up, knocked out and tied up or handcuffed and the damage to the bank lessened considerably as he repaired what he could in superspeed. Of course, he couldn't magically conjure concrete or plaster, so the signs of the violent event were still apparent, only much less.<br><br>Only minutes after the Bat themed woman had left, he was done and zooming afterwards, shocking the crowd even more as in a loud crack of displaced air, he took off, flying in a whirl of his dark red cape, rocketing through the skyline and catching up with the thieves in the getaway car. He also saw the girl gliding through the air. At first glance, she appeared to be on his side, so he respected the mask and restrained himself from X-raying it to see her face. After all, what good would it do in the first place? The odds of him recognising her from amongst the tens of millions of people living in this city were practically nil.<br><br>Right?<br><br>He caught up with her and noticed how shapely she was in the skintight, though nevertheless thick and yet somehow incredibly flexible body armour. She looked like some kind of supermodel or Victoria Secret model masquerading as a vigilante with a suit and tools that betrayed a certain amount of financial funding to go with her own starting career against crime, it appeared. That narrowed the list of suspects down, since not many people in the city would have access to this kind of gear.<br><br>"Hi there! Listen, let's not do the typical and expected cliche battle between two good guys before we can work together. That's only done in the movies I think. Let's just work together. Deal?" He offered. "I'll stop the car, you take them down, I'll make sure no stray bullets hit innocent people." He suggested, before he dove down, landing in front of the car. The brakes squealed, but the hood of the car nevertheless crumpled against his body, before they started trying to flee the ruined vehicle.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>08-05-2015, 19:18:56</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				A mix of flight, power-zip-lining upwards, and parkour seemed to be no trouble at all for the girl in the bat costume. What she lacked in speed, she more than made up for in mobility, cutting corners that could only be cut by someone who knew the streets so well that they hardly had time to mention the back of their hands. She was a little surprised to see that the man could fly without any equipment, but she made sure that he could see the amused, black-lipsticked grin when he mentioned the sort of nonsense that typically happened in comic books to resolve fan "what if" questions.<br><br>"Yes! Lets skip the formalities and try not to get anyone killed!" Her voice was harsh and throaty, and a natural disguise that was better than any voice modulator. Everything about her theme seemed to focus around causing fear, but to this man who fought like a God probably found her less scary. Commissioner Gordon was probably a little afraid of her, even, but this man had some real stones.<br><br>Deep inside, she was still a little suspicious of the man who could take a face-full of bullets without even a black eye, but he was proving more than just a little helpful. She had calculated and followed the greater threat thinking of the higher long-term casualties Red Hood would cause, and inadvertently had become an aerial landmark so that the dashing man in red-and-blue had time to not only subdue the other criminals, but help her secure the more meaningful arrest. Suspicion turned to cautious trust, and she decided that was as far as she would go while wearing the cowl.<br><br>Helena allowed her adrenal gland to open up when the collision began. She closed the prototype wings she had built, herself, and shot a grappling hook to pull on the correct building for landing near enough to where she anticipated the car stopping. To her, everything was moving slowly. Even then, most people would not see as many details as she did. She compensated for some drift from her intended landing spot related to the car with a flawless backflip and a 360 spin to the left, lifting her cape to slow the motion of it near the end and land flawlessly on one knee. She had used the blind spots of the car to escape notice.<br><br>Being unseen in the snow was a clear advantage when the engine block finally crumpled up against the god-like man's body harmlessly. It was as if the bat-themed woman was invisible as she hurled a three bat-shaped weapons in quick succession, followed by a bolas. As the four men ran from the vehicle in a blind panic, they were routed mercilessly by the perfectly aimed series of projectiles, falling the the ground with only one being conscious to groan in pain and agony. The bolas had bound the legs of the Red Hood, and he had landed on his face right in front of the skilled woman.<br><br>Calmly, she pulled the hood up and gazed upon the frightened face of a man whose hands were tied to the weapon he was holding. He was also gagged with some twine. The hood was just a cheap but clever replica. "There's only one place where I lost sight of the vehicle, so I'm guessing he is in the chemical plant," the woman said in her scary voice while putting on a small gas mask. The young man who was still tied up nodded quietly as The Bat hurriedly untied him and handed him a cheap cellular phone. "Get yourself checked out, citizen. And have them send back-up with masks."<br><br>Helena didn't stay around any longer, faintly hearing, "This is Harvey Dent... Not sure where to begin... I've just been kidnapped by a bunch of strange people and then saved by a couple of even stranger people..." after the beaten and bloodied hostage dialed "911." She was already rushing to the next scene after her prey, ignoring tall fences and running past some bleeding security guards after stopping to check their pulses. The waste of life made her angry, but she didn't dwell on that emotion for long. Angry had a way of making people stupid, and she had to be at her absolute smartest because this was clearly a trap. She seemed the type to work alone, but she didn't seem to mind if the strange man in the other cape followed her. Not after he had made this so much easier.<br><br>"Red Hood is expecting us, and Lex Luthor will be another problem if we don't get Red Hood arrested and out of here soon. This plant is subsidized by LuthorCorp through a foreign philanthropy project that is subsidized by his company. If there were an ideal place to have corporate secrets worth guarding from other corporations, this would be it." Helena entered the building cautiously, checking corners since body armor could only slow bullets down so much. She cocked her head at the sound of gunfire from within the facility, and then took off down a hallway. "Security will likely give us little warning before shooting. Red Hood is clearly using a silencer, so that will set him apart."<br><br>She paused as the hallway opened at a catwalk, crouching behind some railing and gazing down at some massive vats filled with a glowing green liquid. "He has us right where he wants us. This stuff is a highly reactive mutagen," she whispered.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>12-05-2015, 20:58:39</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Kal was left to follow the lead of the female vigilante who worked the scene with skill and a ferocity he had never before scene in a woman. Considering the fact she was also very shapely and the part of her face left visible by her cowl like mask revealed a luscious, pretty mouth, clark considered her an incredibly attractive woman. That were two in one day! Must be his lucky day, thus. He nodded and swept up in the air behind her, till they arrived at the chemical plant. He didn't have to do much at the moment as she had made her way inside, until he caught up to her near sever Al vats of a liquid green glowing substance that smelled foul, too.<br><br>Even while he listened to her explanation and her guidelines, he scanned the substance.<br><br>"Agreed, but we have to be very careful. This mutagen contains traces of alien radioactive materials, so it could have very unexpected results. Not to mention, from the chemical make up, I suspect the substance itself is very explosive. We've got to be incredibly careful when bullets start flying. I think we won't have to worry much about the guards since they'll likely won't dare to shoot around this place. Oh... And I can hear a silencer anyway. I've got very good hearing." He remarked.<br><br>From his travels around the world, he had also learned that despite Luthor's philanthropy, the man also had a very shady side, but no one else seemed to connect the dots that whenever there was a disaster or a terrorist strike in the world, somehow Luthorcorp was connected to the facts, either as the target, as the one to most gain economically or as part of the clean up. It was highly suspicious, but Clark couldn't prove the connections with facts. It was all circumstantial evidence.<br><br>"Just so we don't get in each other's way, I will tell you just a little more. I'm strong, I'm very fast and I hear and see... Everything... I'm also impervious to harm. So, if in trouble or if encountering something you can't handle in time, call or whisper for help and I'll be there before you can blink. You can also use me as shield or decoy, since others won't know or remember I'm invulnerable. Trust me... Crooks always keep trying despite having witnessed me shrugging off bullets. I even swallowed a bomb once. All I had to do was burp out the smoke." He explained to her, again in an attempt to avoid superhero comic book cliches.<br><br>He heard a faint pop and blurred, catching the bullet before it killed a guard. He then tapped the guard on the forehead, knocking him out. He blurred and the guard was gone, while he faced down Red Hood. Meanwhile, a guard opened fire on the vigilante girl and clark had to blur again to catch the bullets before they impacted the barrels of explosive mutagen.<br><br>He noticed how the vigilante moved, likely to take out Red Hood, while he blurred to take the guards outside and knocked out to prevent them from getting in the way without raising the alarm. Meanwhile, he ran across a desktop in a remote sort of laboratory. He pulled a small flash drive from his belt and inserted it, while hacking in at superspeed. He heard a cry and blurred away again, only to find a guard opening fire. He caught the bullets, but didn't notice red hood shooting him in the back. The bullet ricocheted and slammed into a barrel.<br><br>-WHOOOSH- the inferno exploded outwards almost faster than the speed of light. All Clark could do was grab the Hood, the guard and the vigilante girl, dragging them outside at superspeed, before he darted inside again to rescue another guard from the flames and retrieve his flash drive, which was already melting due to the heat as the flames took on a green hue. Once he was outside again, he thought he had everyone and he was looking between the vigilante girl and the passed out Red Hood, not knowing one guard was still in the flames, but had died before Clark could hear the heartbeat or the cry for help... Though... The flames did something to his charring body that wasn't meant to happen to any human...<br><br>"Everything all right?" He asked the girl, while they were surrounded with a dozen knocked out guards and Hood.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>16-05-2015, 19:50:26</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The Bat was not like other vigilantes. It was as if she anticipated the aim of every gunshot and knew all of her opponents' defensive openings by default. She could hear the silencer, too, and seemed to disappear occasionally, reappearing to palm strike one guard in the solar plexus or roundhouse kick the next. It was as if close quarters and bad lighting made her only twice as deadly, and yet all of her foes were still alive.<br><br>Having an ally appear from nowhere was hard to trust. Having them prove to be so incredibly useful was like a red flag. But again, Helena was a little too busy to let it truly bother her just yet. The fact that the godlike man recognized the chemical compounds as alien placed Luthor as a more immediate threat, too, and the surviving Wayne daughter didn't bother feeling surprised. Lionel Luthor resorted to the suspicious business practices to stay in business under the looming shadow of the Waynes, and yet he for all his hard work he had expanded into Smallville instead of Oldtown, leeching off of the middle and lower classes in the name of "good business." <em>Lex is still young, like me. I doubt a Bat could influence him, but a Forbes Top Ten might</em>, Helena thought to herself as she sidestepped before Red Hood even fired his gun.<br><br>"Call me curious, but what do bombs taste like exactly?" She performed a series of acrobatics to land crouching on a dim catwalk. "I can't imagine they taste good, especially for a nonsmoker." And then, between banter, she crashed into Red Hood in a flying kick that made the air escape from his lungs so loudly that it didn't take super hearing to know that it was a solid blow. The railing was there to catch the criminal's fall, but Lex Luthor hadn't invested in good maintenance for the railing. A couple of rivets gave out, and Red Hood toppled over the edge. Naturally, The Bat went falling down after him dangling from a grappling hook. She grabbed his boots and her grappling hook automatically reeled her back up, but only after the man had been totally dunked in the glowing green fluids.<br><br>While the result was not desired, Red Hood was still alive because he was coughing after Helena felt herself being manhandled and sucked out of the building violently. The man in red and blue had caught them as they landed back on the platform. The explosion had The Bat feeling even more suspicious. It was too convenient that everything went up in flames the moment she had a chance to investigate the scene of something more sinister going on in Metropolis. She felt a bit pissed off, but then, they were not surrounded by just unconscious guards and one of Gotham's most wanted.<br><br>The world's hardest martial arts training made Helena so quiet that she simply seemed to disappear as helicopter blades flooded the area with noise. News helicopters and police helicopters alike, with a black helicopter containing a SWAT team. At that point, it was a classic case of "Every man for himself, the heat is on." The caped crusader was certainly not in the mood to explain herself to news casters or the authorities, and she needed some time alone to follow up on the consequences of today's adventures. Kal El found himself asking his caring question to thin air and a growling Red Hood, who was tied very quickly and rudely to a "No Trespassing" sign. Clearly, the vigilante was not one to mix and mingle.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>18-05-2015, 20:07:22</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Kal realised he was speaking to thin air when he noticed Red Hood snarling and tied to a fitting sign. He smirked as he focused his hearing and sight, quickly tracking his vigilante partner down as she was racing away at acrobatic and unbelievable speeds. Nothing compared to what he was capable of speed wise, but there was no way he was even going to try to bend his body in the ways she performed!<br><br>"I kind of like her." Clark commented idly to the sputtering and still snarling Red Hood, who was covered in the green liquid. This slightly worried Clark, but there was little he could do that couldn't be done by more qualified medical personnel, which were now flooding the area completely, together with firefighters and police officers as the emergency workers responded in large numbers to the explosive events at the warehouse subcontracted to a subcontracted company remotely tied to Luthorcorp.<br><br>When reporters and police officers surround him, he gave a simple wave.<br><br>"The fire started in room Q-16. The green liquid is bio hazardous and possibly lightly irradiated, though I do not detect harmful levels of actual radiation. I was happy to help. Goodbye." He quickly dealt with the press, bedazzling them -unknown to himself- with his godlike physique and he charming, megawatt, pearly white smile, before he lifted a fisted and rocketed upwards at high speeds, disappearing with a faint sonic boom.<br><br>The rest of the evening and the night, the newly minted Superman -a term coined by the press, not by himself- was witnessed, filmed and photographed all around the world, assisting in matters great and small, making an impression, causing waves with the splash of his introduction. Especially at scenes where he was witnessed being bulletproof, time and time again, or showcasing immense strength by lifting up a bus that had fallen off a viaduct in Italy, or carrying a helicopter that would have otherwise crashed in downtown Singapore.<br><br>He flashed around the world so quickly, people almost believed there were more than one of them, but some of the higher end news agencies constructed the time line and lined up all rescues chronologically with travel times estimated between each location. It was soon discovered he gad flown from Honduras to Jemen in five seconds flat...<br><br>The following morning, Clark was rather nervous. The frequency of his rescues slowed down and he had to prepare for the lunch meeting with Helena Wayne. He was mostly nervous, not because of the job, but because of the gorgeous girl in particular. Even though for the past twenty hours, he had made a name for himself as Superman, the Man of Steel, invulnerable and powerful enough to successfully pass himself off as a God if he wanted to, he was nervous.<br><br>It was unbelievable, but he couldn't help how the thought of the gorgeous young woman made his knees all wobbly and set his stomach a flutter. He manned himself up and headed out, arriving at Wayne Mansion exactly on time, where he knocked at the door, only for an ageing butler called Alfred, a true Brit, to guide him inside to the luncheon Helena had set up. Clark tugged at his tie, since he was wearing his best -and only- suit to make a good impression further. He had no idea that even the cheapest of suits fit snugly around his perfect body and made him look like an Armani male runway model.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>27-05-2015, 16:02:33</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				The night was young, and crime was flowing through Gotham as freely as the unhindered traffic in the snow. Hot on its heels, a lone figure stopped it at every turn, striking fear into the hearts of the men and women of the night. Shoplifters and vandals hung from street poles by their ankles, wrapped in cords like early Christmas gifts to the police department. Prostitutes turned themselves in crying, and rapists and murderers were found unconscious and tied together in police department parking lots. Burglars were found trapped in the stores they attempted to rob, and mobsters were robbed of their ill gotten gains and beaten into submission in the alleys.<br><br>Some called her a dark-winged angel. Others called her a bat-like menace. There were nicknames flowing through Metropolis like Caped Crusader, Huntress, and Dark Knight. But as the morning news arrived, the city had agreed that the lone woman who struck crime from the shadows was simply The Bat Girl. In later news, there was Helena Wayne at 3 AM, clad in a custom fitted man's tuxedo and leading other women as a dance partner at a ball the Waynes were normally invited to in the past. The rumor that Helena was perhaps lesbian was Page 2 material, and an all-night alibi that had only taken a single hour to execute. Now she dreamed of the handsome man she had met at the college before the wildest night of her life, and of the bulletproof man who had made the capture of the Red Hood easier. At least until a familiar voice entering her hidden underground lair ruined it all...<br><br>"Miss Wayne. Do wake up, dear. It is not proper for a lady of the aristocracy to sleep at this hour."<br><br>Her response was an inarticulate growl, and a shifting of the covers on her second personal bed to hide her face from the light pouring onto her from a flashlight.<br><br>"And it is not proper for a lady to snarl. Your parents were quite clear on that. You might be a warrior by night, but you're a very responsible princess by day."<br><br>Another growl issued forth from the bedcovers. "I'm neither of those things, Alfred. I'm a bat, and I'm nocturnal. Go pick the wings off some other flying mammal."<br><br><div class="floatright">(http://i.imgur.com/2KNXqKy.jpg)</div>Alfred's tone changed from stern to playful so quickly that it made Helena's tired head spin. "Yes, but some strapping young lad has arrived and I quite approve of him as a suitor. As would your parents, I might add. How about you pretty yourself up a bit and we'll see if the Waynes were meant to become the Kents." Helena's face slowly revealed itself from beneath to covers, a visage of blushing embarrassment and deadly rage combined. "We are so sparring after he leaves..." But Alfred was still feeling playful, and teased further, "If you let him leave, Miss Wayne." Naturally, Alfred Pennyworth was not at all shocked by the platter flying from his hand and the tea being flung onto the floor with it. This was why he chose the silver teacup for waking Helena in her lair. She was usually something of a monster when she was woken up down there, and he was not one to risk good china. And yet, it took making her fling good silverware across the secret chamber to truly wake her up sometimes. "I will inform him that you are soon to join him in the study. I suggest wearing something a little more casual than your two costumes from last night. That should throw him off splendidly."<br><br><div align="center">~</div><br>Slowly and gingerly, Helena made her way up the wine cellar stairs with a bottle in one hand and two wine glasses in the other. She felt comfortable in a knee-length khaki skirt that had belonged to her mother and a light blue, not-quite-buttoned-up shirt that had belonged to her father. One thing she valued most in the world was their clothing, and it had a way of smelling and feeling just right. Naturally, she was ignoring that fact that Clark was underage -herself more so- as she poured the wine in front of Clark in the study and sat across from him as if nothing really important or stressful was going on at all. She was like a calm and deadly lioness who had the displeasure of being awake and refused to speak until she was slightly buzzed. Her eyes revealed themselves to truly be a pale, steely blue color in this light. And they were focused on Clark without distraction, her hands moving without needing to be seen as she went through the motions of starting her day with him.<br><br>Finally, after drinking a whole glass of a fine drinking vintage of port from 1977 in one go, she seemed to find the resolve to speak up. "You look like a stuffed penguin in a rather cute way, Clark. But lose the tie and relax a bit. This is my home, a place to relax and think. Not stiffen up and stress. I honestly don't give a damn about appearances in here unless you're a nosy old butler." This managed to get a smile out of Alfred as he casually stood near a door as a chaperon... at least for now. He felt that his presence would create enough tension to assure some true relaxation between the two later on. Being a matchmaker was part of his listed duties in the Wayne will, after all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Arkaniel</strong> on <strong>28-05-2015, 17:00:01</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"I suppose I'm not a nosy old butler." Clark relented, taken complete aback by her casual clothes, her casual attitude and the ease with which she swallowed the Port. He couldn't help but be, once more, attracted supremely to the young brunette. Yes, even despite her rather outrageous public appearance tonight. Still, that appearance gad him wary of making any sort of move on her. He knew better than many the press could alter public opinion and reputation easily by blowing things out of proportion and making assumptions. Nevertheless... The thought that this beauty might be lesbian and spent the entire night partying was a deterrent for him to even dare break through his shyness and ask her out.<br><br>Besides which, she was his employer now, wasn't she?<br><br>He stood up and reached for his tie. He deftly undid it and placed it on the side table. Next, he shrugged off his suit jacket, revealing the shirt he wore clinging superbly to his chiselled body, outlining his muscles easily. He even went as far as undoing the top button, revealing a hint of deeply tanned, smooth skin stretching taut over said muscles. This gave him a far more relaxed and casual appearance immediately, as he sat back down and sipped from the port wine she had poured.<br><br>Alcohol didn't affect him in the slightest, so he wasn't worried about this getting out of hand on his side, but there was a look in her eyes that made him kind of nervous.<br><br>He felt like the Canary... And she was the cat.<br><br>He glanced over at Alfred, the congenial butler, who gave a sly wink, collected the jacket and tie, before he disappeared, leaving one Clark Kent alone at the tender mercies of the mistress of the house. The butler in question rather liked seeing Miss Wayne so bedazzled and intrigued by the unassuming gentleman. He gad teased her about the Kent's and Wayne's joining names, but now, upon seeing the two of them together, Alfred was convinced it would happen sooner rather than later. There was something about mister Kent, something... Undefinable. Something he hoped Helena would see as well.<br><br>It was the sort of thing one would expect in a knight. Yes... Mr Kent, for all his modesty and humble appearing, was a knight in shining armour, hidden under youthful awkwardness and modesty.<br><br>And excellent male to lead the Wayne family to new glory and lead Metropolis to a better future at the side of Metropolis's most beautiful princess.<br><br>"So... Er... What exactly did you want to discuss, miss Wayne? Excuse me... Helena?" Clark asked her.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Bat and the Kryptonian (Arkaniel &amp; Fyri)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Lucetta</strong> on <strong>09-06-2015, 16:25:00</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Naturally, Helena felt like a cat instead of a bat today. And this fine young canary was getting more handsome by the moment. Bat by night and cat per day, she was using all of the potential her parents had wasted to ensure the success that had to be maintained in their stead. Yes... He was not a nosy old butler. But she could tell from his expression that he was holding something back even more than he was yesterday afternoon. Still, she knew she could trust him enough and pushed the paperwork for employment across the old hardwood table along with an old fountain pen.<br><br>For once in the past four years, there really wasn't a plan. Helena had done all she could last night to investigate all organized crime in the city, but without much in the way of results. Still, she had given herself time before sleeping to connect a few final dots between crime and her own company. A hand disappeared under the table, and returned to sight holding a tiny remote that had been hidden in the antique wood. With the press of a button, large digital displays lowered from the ceiling to block the windows, casting the room in a soft electric glow instead of what for Helena had been the harsh glow of a nocturnal-unfriendly sun.<br><br>And she took a more ginger sip of port after pouring herself a much smaller glass of it, and swirled it around a bit to air it out. "A series of arrests made last night by a vigilante -one with a crucial assist from a caped stranger from out of town- have indirectly connected Wayne Enterprises with one Carmine Falcone." She pressed another button on the remote, and the face of an elderly man on one of the huge monitors was zoomed in upon.<br><br>"There is enough proof to convince an honest man that Falcone is manipulating my board members. But the trouble with that is that the mayor and our local senator are not particularly honest men." She pressed yet another button on the small remote, and an image of the Senator appeared next to Falcone. Then two more images appeared below them.<br><br>"With the Senator invested in Falcone as a political contributor, he will be a very powerful enemy to Wayne Enterprises as we remove corruption from within. But there is a lesser evil in Don Maroni, who the mayor favors instead. Once Falcone is no longer in power, we're basically dealing with the same problem with Maroni again. What we need to do is make some tension between the two organized crime factions so we can get the board members who are in bed with Falcone and/or Maroni to react."<br><br>"That's where you come in. I need to know how to stir the pot when I'm not busy manipulating other business leaders..." And she pressed another button, bringing up a file on Lex Luthor on another screen, "Into tipping their hand so I can make sure they aren't involved in this too. To sum it up, I wanted to discuss how to even start sorting this mess out. After that, it is a matter of finding proof, a prosecuting lawyer who isn't crooked, and then the right jails to separate these people into. We need to start working some miracles based on whatever leads we have and our ability to peacefully and cleverly acquire more."<br><br>Helena didn't like going straight to business, but she supposed that getting the young man started on the project was just a little more important than playing with him... For now. She seemed to need to wake up a little more before that, anyway. "Basically, welcome to my awful mess, four years in the making. You'll find everything I have in these touchable consoles." And she pressed a few buttons on the remote again, aiming it with a cursor to open a new file in the futuristic display. "Including where it all began. The supposedly random death of my parents to conveniently reroute power through the company. Naturally, everything sensitive you see here is only discussed here. With me or Alfred. I want to discuss how long you are willing to stay at Wayne Manor to try to piece this all together. When we do, Commissioner Gordon and both Sheriffs are on our side. If we cause enough of a media frenzy, even the District Attorney will have to let what we find go to court."
			</dd>
		</dl>
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