[OPEN] Back door cracked, we don't need a key -

[makingitwayne]

Who| Bruce Wayne and YOU!

What| Party at Wayne Manor! Free drinks, free food, and lots and lots of music.

Where| Wayne Manor

When| Just after the beginning of the Arena.

Warnings| None yet, though Bruce can get a little grim sometimes.

Ah, another Arena had begun.

That meant all the streets were filled with people bustling around for the latest news, glued to screens, gossiping and placing their bets on who was going to come away from the whole thing a Victor. There were hundreds of people trying to have viewing parties, enthusiastically dressing up in costumes, squealing over food and drink over every little tiny development in the lives of the Tributes. So many parties, it took over the top extravagance to get people to even glance your way.

In other words, it was Bruce Wayne's favorite time to invite the entire Capitol to his house for the evening.

The manor's great room was decorated as festively as ever, black lights shining and making everyone's clothes and teeth pop. The food that was laid out was engineered to glow as well, the drink looking like something radioactive and dangerous where it sat on the trays. Loud music pumped through the building - partly to encourage dance, but also partly to help drown out the one small sitting area that had a screen set out with the Arena feed on it. It wasn't a secret at all the Bruce hated the Games, but he had learned to have at least one means of keeping track of them at his parties. Half of it was courtesy for his guests. The other half was for his own reasons.

The man of the hour himself was flitting from one guest to the next, drink in hand, his black, glittering suit splattered haphazardly with bright splotches of glowing yellow paint. The bright yellow streak laid into his black hair also proved itself within the theme of the evening - it lit up just as well as the paint on his suit and the makeup that lined his eyes and lips.

When asked why he wanted to have a neon black light party, he just laughed, shrugging. "I like the dark. Makes everything else seem brighter, doesn't it?"

As high profile as he was, he made one thing very clear - he was more than willing to be approached for conversation, and he was more than willing to approach you if you didn't get to him first.

Comments

[president_evil]

Wesker had no qualms with the darkness, finding the deep shadows both aesthetically pleasing and physically soothing, but he could have done without the piercing flashes of light, making his sensitive eyes ache even behind his dark lenses.

And the music, as well, cacophonous to his ears.

Still, he didn't complain. He merely lingered in the viewing room, under the auspices of minding his tributes.

With so many naughty boys and girls finding themselves banned from such gatherings - untrustworthy, suspicious, othered - being seen, his own face clear and unblemished, was a calculated move.

He wasn't like them. He knew his place.

He could be trusted.

Feel free to hit up his CR thing in his journal if you want them to have known each other!

[makingitwayne]

At these things, Bruce didn't prefer to go into the viewing area. He kept it up as a courtesy for his guests, though, and many of those who were there were more than enthusiastic about watching those damned Games were also valuable business partners he couldn't afford to lose. He had to be seen bending against his own preferences for them. It made him look better as a public figure, less belligerent about his lack of interest.

Wandering over, drink in hand, he sat down next to Wesker without any sort of warning or fanfare. His hair was bright enough he figured he could be seen coming a mile away.

"Enjoying yourself?"

[president_evil]

"I wouldn't dream of doing anything less," came the reply, purred dryly, the ruby eyes flashing at the corner of Wesker's glasses before the pale head turned, attention shifting from the blood of the Arena to the man beside him.

"Mr. Wayne." He inclined his head to one side. "You've outdone yourself."

[makingitwayne]

"Well, I try," he replied, chuckling a little and taking a sip from his glowing yellow drink. Even his drink was coordinated with his outfit. Whether that was luck or intent was difficult to tell.

"There are an awful lot of parties to compete with around the start of the Arena. It's go big, or fizzle out. I'd prefer not to fizzle out." Fizzling out meant less pandering to the people, less business connections. He needed those. He may look like just another ridiculous Capitolite, but there was a lot of savvy and intellect hidden behind that makeup.

He cast a glance briefly to the screen, lip curling a little bit. More and more exploitation as the time went on. More and more personal.

Disgusting.

"I'd rather be dancing than watching this mess, anyway."

[president_evil]

Wesker thought Wayne had to worry about from causing his guests permanent retinal damage than to being overlooked by them, but as it would have been counter-productive to say so, he merely raised a pale eyebrow instead.

"Would that well all could," he murmured coolly. "But some of us are more invested. Lives depending on us, as it were."

[makingitwayne]

"I certainly didn't mean to minimize the struggle of the Tributes," Bruce added, the smile fading on his lips, remaining only as a ghost.

"It's not a secret that I have poured money into sponsoring. I just don't like to show support for the whole system by gluing myself to a screen. I keep my attentions on it in more productive ways. Like you said...these are lives. Not actors poised for our entertainment."

[president_evil]

Wesker's face was the same cool, impasse mask as it ever was, but behind the lenses, behind the reptilian eyes, his mind was turning. He'd heard tales of Wayne, of course, had heard the man's name banded out, his face attached to that event or this cause, but it was still another to meet the man himself. To see him be so forward in his stance against the current of the majority.

He was either incredibly foolish, or outstandingly powerful.

"That's a refreshing view point," he replied. "I'm more apt to have a sponsor more interested in my tributes' amorous activities or what they're wearing, as opposed how they might be able to boost their odds of survival."

[makingitwayne]

"I'm not quite as given to gossip as a lot of the other sponsors are. It's not really any of my concern who they're dating or having sex with. They never got asked to be put under the microscope, after all. If I can bring a little comfort, that's the good I can do."

The smile had completely faded from his painted lips. He could tell that it would do nothing for Wesker - and besides, this was a man who he felt like he could be frank with. Likely, the frankness would just be appreciated.

Or seen as a quiet display of power. That much was no accident.

Foolish or powerful. That was the line that Bruce walked, willfully and very, very carefully. He wanted to appear a little of both - not so foolish as to be brushed aside, but not so intimidating that his words could be seen as a threat. It was a balancing act, and one that he had cultivated for quite some time now.

[president_evil]

"It must be difficult for you, with so much of your society tied to the Games."

If Wesker's attention had been divided before, it was fixed now. Though he didn't move, though there was now outward change, his senses pinned on the man beside him. Watching him steadily from behind the dark lenses of his glasses, cursing silently the damnable music that kept him from being able to monitor the tell-tale heart.

"You can't even escape it in your own home."

[makingitwayne]

Bruce is perceptive enough to know that he has a lot of attention aimed his way - but he doesn't falter one way or the other, his words passionate, but measured, controlled.

"It is difficult - and no, I can't escape it. None of us can. It's everywhere, and as long as the Games continue, it's never going to stop being everywhere. The best I can do is support the right people, the right concepts...and keep talking. If I shut up about it, it's no better than following the crowd."

He hears commotion on the screen, but he does not turn his head.

He won't watch.

He'll read about it later, and sort out who needs a sponsorship from there - but he won't watch.

[president_evil]

"So one assumes then that you don't fall in with the prevailing belief that ending the Games will plunge Panem into chaos and anarchy?" Wesker purred, a pale eyebrow arching.

He would be interested to know who Wayne was supporting, but knew it was better to play his hand slowly.

[makingitwayne]

"I don't. I don't think that, if they end, the Games will cause any irreparable damage to Panem."

He leans back where he sits, crossing his arms over his chest, the playful demeanor that he had been wearing only moments ago looking worlds away from the grimness left in its stead. Fire lit his eyes, resolve set his strong jaw.

"I think the people will."

[president_evil]

"Your people?" Wesker asked, "or ours?"

A pale hand gestured toward the screen, a small elegant wave.

"It is, after all, no secret that there's no going home for us. It would be foolish not to expect some - tension."

[makingitwayne]

"There isn't a lot of difference in the destructive power one way or the other, if you ask me."

Bruce's eyes don't follow the gesture. They remain locked upon Wesker, gravely serious, a stillness settling over Bruce as he speaks. A stillness that will, undoubtedly, disappear the moment someone new strolls up and compliments him on the party.

"You're right, though, it is foolish not to expect that people like you would be angry. I'm angry, and I'm not even one of you."

[president_evil]

"Oh? I would think some of us are capable of being a great deal more destructive. Many of us, after all, are not human."

An arm stretched out along the back of the couch, the pale thumb of his hand picking rhythmically under his fingernails. A methodical - if unnecessary - cleaning. A soft, insidious click of nails.

"How, do you think, the people will respond when, or if, the Capitol's control fails? Perhaps they'll continue to look to cage us."

[makingitwayne]

"Well, I think that people underestimate just how destructive humankind is in the first place."

Bruce watches the motion for a moment, then regards his own nails for a second. Painted black and yellow to go with his outfit, shining, polished immaculately. The hands - at least by appearance - of a man who doesn't usually have to lift his fingers to do much of anything.

His eyes move back up to meet Wesker's.

"Some might. Some might not. I wouldn't."

[president_evil]

He smiled, a shark's grin of even white teeth.

"I know what men can do." Man had crafted T, had unleashed it upon his world -- had made themselves new, for better or, more commonly, for worse. "But it is rather superfluous in the face of beings that turn men inside out with the power of their minds."

That could raise the dead, that could bring millions to their knees, with a few drops of blood.