we do our time like pennies in a jar

[thingsfall]

WHO: Bruce Wayne
WHERE: The Fountain | The Inn | Fountain Park
WHEN: October 15th and the days following
OPEN TO: all
WARNINGS: to be updated as needed
STATUS: open

---

arrival; the fountain

He wakes to the sensation of cold and damp, and for a long, hazy moment, all Bruce can think of is Amnesty Bay. The faint light he can sense through his closed eyelids gives that thought fleeting reinforcement--is it the lighthouse?

...No. No, that was weeks ago. He left Amnesty Bay, he came and went from Central City, he forged--he hoped--new alliances. Tomorrow he goes to Detroit. Tonight... tonight he's in Gotham.

His eyes snap open and he breathes in, startled, then shaken as he gets a noseful of water. He holds his breath, nostrils smarting, lungs tight, and on instinct he lunges upward toward the light.

He doesn't so much break the surface of the water in the fountain as he does crash through it, waves smacking the concrete walls, his breath righting itself in coughs and ragged gasps for the few moments it takes him to regain control. He treads water, taking stock: trees, sky, he's in some kind of pool--no, he turns, it's a... fountain? His armor is gone, he's not in Gotham, he knows there's no place like this in Gotham, what's on his back? Where are his clothes?

He strikes out for the edge of the fountain, hauling himself up and over, water dripping from his light gray scrubs, his hair, everything, noisy as it hits the ground around his feet. He sheds the backpack, dropping it onto the fountain wall, digging through its contents.

The sound of someone approaching gets his attention. He turns at once, tense, alert, though he makes no further moves.

"Hello?"


getting settled; the inn

The close quarters already grate on his nerves, and it's only his second full day here.

Bruce closes the door to his assigned room with a very small sigh. It's nothing against everyone else here, far from it. They've all been kind, helpful, friendly if a bit wary about him, and he doesn't blame them for that last part. He's a newcomer, he'd be unsure of him too.

Part of his restlessness, sure, is that he's used to having so much more space. The lake house, the estate grounds, his business properties in both Gotham and Metropolis, all of Gotham at night. But the greater part of it is his usual solitude. It's just been him and Alfred, for a decade now, since...

Since the last time he tried to build a family led to loss and ruin.

It's been easier to work alone, fight alone, grieve alone. But he can't do it all himself. That was a hard lesson to revisit this year, and again it cost him dearly. He gets it, now, that he can't fight alone, that he can't shoulder everything. He's building a team back home, and he's got to, he's sure, become part of the community here.

It just still feels weird.

He sets out, determined to battle his ingrained instincts. He offers the people he passes on his way downstairs a friendly good morning, pausing for more conversation if they'll have it. He joins a few others at breakfast, dialing back his urge to interrogate everyone about everything.

Afterwards, he's out on the front porch, breathing in the fresh air. This place would be so peaceful if he was here by choice.


finding his bearings; fountain park

One of the basic rules of detective work is to start with the scene of the crime. Gather your evidence there. Figure out what happened. Try to make sense of it, let that tell you the story.

He can't think of anything else to try at the moment, so Bruce has returned to where he arrived, hoping maybe something will give him some clue, some idea.

At the start of his reinvestigation, he can be found inspecting the fountain and the immediate area. How was he placed there? Is there a way out? Does the fountain have any significance?

Somewhere in the middle, he climbs the tallest tree nearby. With rather a lot of speed and agility, if you happen to be around, happen to have an eye for that sort of thing. He lingers up there a while, surveying the fountain, the park, but also getting views of the village as a whole, or at least as best he can from this single tree.

There might also be a small comfort in something a bit familiar. Watching the area from on high.

Before he leaves, in the interests of being thorough, he jumps back into the water. He feels his way along the walls, he does his best to reach the floor, he breaks the surface a few times to look up at the trees and sky. Eventually he hauls himself out, the wet weight of his clothes against his body and the soft patter of water dripping from them onto the ground giving him a moment of déjà vu.

Comments

The Inn

[markwatney]

The new people just keep on coming, and I still can't decide whether that's something I'm glad for or not. On the one hand, more resources, more knowledge, more labor sources. More people who might actually have some kind of answer for why we're here in the first place. On the other hand, more mouths to feed and winter barreling down upon us with water-logged crops struggling to ripen before the first frost.

But shit, it's not like I can hold it against the newbies any more than I can hold it against myself. We're all stuck in the same shitty, hell-bound handbasket.

The guy on the porch is one such newbie, and I've gotta wonder if he's simply saving his freak out for later, or if he's one of the folks like Jo who has seen all this before. At any rate, he's got a strong back, and I give him a friendly clap on the shoulder as I pass, and motion toward the road ahead.

"You look like a man in need of something to do," I say, looking back up at him from the bottom of the steps, my smile hopeful. "How much do you know about bees?"

[thingsfall]

Bruce is aware someone approaches from behind a second or two before he's clapped on the back, but he lets it seem that the physical contact is what got his attention. His gaze tracks the other man as he moves past, and, after a thoughtful pause, he shrugs.

"Got stung a couple of times as a kid," he explains. "Other than that... cross-pollination, and we're probably killing them off with pesticides back home."

He smiles. "But I could use something to do."

[markwatney]

"Well, lucky for us both, I happen to know a lot about bees, so I can make up the difference." I grin and brace a foot against the bottom-most step so that I can lean up and extend a hand to shake.

"I'm Mark. Sorry if I kind of accosted you out of nowhere, there. It's just been my experience that sitting around doing nothing in this place makes a person crazy, especially at first. Feel free to tell me and my bees to fuck off, I promise I won't take it personally."

[thingsfall]

Bruce moves to the top step, leaning down to grasp his hand. A pleasant, if slightly reserved, smile curves his lips. Friendly but not overbearingly so, that feels about right for today's interactions, for first meetings.

"It's a pleasure, Mark. I'm Bruce." He lets go of Mark's hand, straightening up. "There's nothing to apologize for. I don't feel accosted. I feel grateful, because you're right: having something to do will help. It'll give me something else to focus on besides," he gestures at their surroundings, "all of this and how weird it is to be here."

fountain park

[womanofvalue]

It's the splash that catches her attention, making Peggy immensely glad that the weather might be brisk, but hardly the sort of weather that would make a man freeze - and this man, it seems, has half a mind to catch a cold. She hasn't needed her coat just yet, but there's a nip in the air that says that soon enough, it'll be on its way. Still, jumping into the fountain has a madness of a sort that doesn't exactly encourage thoughts and worries about the weather.

She raises her brow as she comes to a stop to regard the now-dripping wet man, completely clothed. If she hadn't watched him plunge in, she might think he'd just come out, but she'd seen his dry clothes. "Refreshed now?" she asks.

[thingsfall]

"Refreshed," he echoes, sparing a fleeting glance downwards to make sure he isn't doing something impolite like dripping on this lady's shoes. He offers her a smile wry as it is friendly.

"I'm not sure that's the right word for it. Bracing, maybe. Brisk? Also: not something I care to repeat."

[womanofvalue]

"No, it does seem a rather silly thing to be doing," she agrees, trying not to mention how many times she had thought to do that herself, especially after it had suddenly filled up again after being empty as long as it had been. "Should I dare ask what compelled you to take the plunge?" she wonders, even though she suspects that she still knows the answer.

After all, aren't they all searching for answers to this place? Why not jump back into a fountain and get soaked in the pursuit of answers?

Inn

[booklegging]

New faces are a painfully common occurrence around the inn; some weeks it feels as though one can't throw a rock without hitting a newcomer. When a man he doesn't recognize descends the stairs, Jess glances up from where he sits alone at a table with a half-eaten plate of fried eggs and mushrooms, seemingly unsurprised to see Bruce there.

"Hey," he offers, a casual greeting. Angled slightly in his chair, he has one arm resting on the chair back, a leg stretched out on the seat across from him. Projecting normalcy is a conscious effort in this place. Some days his acting is better than others.

"First night?"

He'd heard a rumor the fountain had spit someone else out yesterday--looks like it'd been true. Too bad for this guy.

[thingsfall]

"That obvious, huh?"

Bruce too is an old hand at projecting: harmlessness, if not normalcy. The smile he offers is easy, friendly, if a bit uncertain. But that's to be expected the day after you woke up in a strange place and had to haul yourself out of a fountain.

"But yes: I'm new here. I'm Bruce."

[booklegging]

Jess tilts his head with lip tucked between his teeth in a look that says kind of, yeah. 'Obvious' is one word for it. 'Predictable' is another. The trickle of new faces doesn't seem like it's going to stop anytime soon, not when the ring masters who run this circus keep bringing people here like it's going out of style, and almost all of said new faces find their way to the inn eventually.

The foot traffic is part of the reason Jess still lives here; rooming in the hub of the community is advantageous for keeping up with the latest news. And for sniffing out the latest additions, case in point.

Rising from his seat, he opts to go the full nine yards in greeting the older man, hand out to shake. "Jess Brightwell, sir," he says. The sir is more for Bruce's sake than his own. Some basic manners might wash this nightmare down a little easier. "I stay here. If you're taking a room, I expect we'll be seeing plenty of each other."

fountain park

[notsocommon]

Helen often came to the fountain park herself, trying to discover some sort of mechanism to travel back through the fountain. She had mostly attempted it with stones, though, and had not actually tried jumping through the damned thing. She was a little shocked when she saw someone do that very thing, though, and when he pulled himself out of it she tipped her head a bit at him, curious and confused all at the same time.

"I'm not certain that's how I would go about it. Did you find anything that I haven't found by throwing stones in there for the past month and a half?"

[thingsfall]

He lets out a huff that might have turned into a laugh, had he let it, had he finished. "Throwing stones is also a good effort," he points out. It's probably more sensible than jumping back in for another good, thorough soaking.

"And no, I probably didn't, aside from learning I really didn't enjoy this the second time around, either."

[notsocommon]

"I've been trying to aim my throws to see if there's a place where I don't hear them pinging off the bottom of the fountain," Helen explained. "That way, you know they're going somewhere that isn't brick and water. It's not exactly the best way to go about it but I wanted to test it that way before sticking my entire body in there again and risk getting...stuck."

And yet, it seemed this man had decided to just attack it full-tilt, scientific method be damned.

Fountain park

[thekittenqueen]

It wasn't the first time that she had seen someone dive into the fountain, looking for signs for the way back home. She had heard the splash as she was returning from the woods, her bag filled with mushrooms and fruit and her puppy at her side, covered in mud. Training him to root out mushrooms had proven to be easier than she imagined, but it meant that the pair of them would return home covered in dirt and leaves.

It wasn't the sort of impression she wanted to give new arrivals, especially extremely handsome ones. His determination at least warranted comment, as there had been more stubborn men that had tried similar avenues.

"You won't find anything there." She offered, crossing her arms across her chest. "There is no way back through the fountain. Someone tried just after my arrival."

[thingsfall]

Bruce wasn't particularly unimpressed with her appearance. She'd just come from the woods and he'd gathered everyone here had to forage. Besides, if they were going to judge by appearance, here he was dripping water all over after a fool's errand. He wouldn't have had much ground from which to pass judgment, were he so inclined.

He offers her a small, slightly sheepish smile. "I didn't imagine there was a way back," he admits. "I think all of you would have taken advantage of it if there were. But some things need to be experienced to be satisfied."

After a moment, he adds: "I'm new here. I'm Bruce."

[thekittenqueen]

She didn't have a towel on hand to offer him, much to her regret. With the weather shifting, she couldn't imagine that he was very comfortable. The rains had at least stopped, but fall had settled in sharply around them. Pretty soon, the water would freeze over and these endeavors would be fruitless.

"At least to answer your own questions," she could understand that. "Are you staying at the inn? I was about to head in that direction. We could walk together if you like? You'll be cold in a minute."

She wiped her hand on her pants, offering it out to him. "I gathered as much. I'm Margaery. It's nice to meet you, even under these conditions."

inn;

[articulatings]

"'And in the morning, then ye shall see the glory of the Lord,'" Comes a Southern voice from the doorway--Boyd is leaning against the frame, out on the porch so as not to actually interrupt people going in or out.

"Mighty fine day ahead of us," he continues, just in case the Religion's a little too much for the newcomer. He quirks his brow and offers a smile, all white teeth and charisma, before his gaze sweeps along the newcomer.

He doesn't bother to hide his wariness, but he's certainly not impolite or unfriendly--quite the opposite, while Boyd hasn't talked to this one he hasn't shunned him in the least. He's curious now, though, and he takes a sip of a cup full of water he wishes was bourbon.

"Too many people in the inn for you?" He did the same thing as Bruce when he first arrived--he's venturing a guess.

[thingsfall]

Bruce and religion go way back, to his childhood--but no further. Until he was eleven he was raised with both his father's Episcopalian ideals of fairness and open-mindedness, and his mother's Catholic passion and commitment to social justice. Heroes and martyrs.

But then he was eleven, and it became hard to continue to believe in a God who would allow his parents to die.

He doesn't mind religion but he feels no belonging there, no striving or need for it.

He smiles faintly instead, lifting one shoulder in a shrug. "Nothing personal," he offers, by way of agreement. "It's just a bit much while I'm still getting my bearings."

had to slowatus, my bad!

[articulatings]

"I can imagine, I'm not so long in the tooth myself compared to the more permanent residents in this establishment." The smile is greeted by a white tooth grin, the kind that lights up a coal mine, and the kind that promises a lot and takes away just as much.

He has no interest in intimidating Bruce--there's no point, for one, and if he's going to live alongside everyone else, it's best to keep his true nature as hidden as possible.

"I don't believe we've been properly acquainted."

inn

[specialise]

It hasn't been a particularly good morning for Raven Reyes.

There's a crick in her neck, and that's where her hand resides now, fingers pressing into the cramp at the slope of her shoulder. She tilts her head and grits her teeth, and finds her magical fingers that often fix anything from bombs to generators can't quite massage out that pain.

She stops her descent down the staircase, almost at the bottom, when he greets her. Dressed in her grey scrubs, she dons her deep red jacket, never quite letting herself go without a shade that's familiar to her. She eyes him, brow with charcoal smeared over it arched slightly, and offers him an unimpressed, "Morning." She thinks to walk by him, but given the state of their own town and the way their numbers ebb and flow, she thinks better of it. "Who're you?"

[thingsfall]

Where other people have been managing at least a thin veneer of politeness over their wariness, or their weariness, she wears hers on her sleeve. He can respect that.

He notices, as he extends a hand, polite and faint smile on his lips, that she wears the same color scrubs he has on. He wonders what that's about. Or if anyone even knows.

"I'm Bruce. I just got here."

[specialise]

She looks down at his hand, not quite sure of what to make of it. She's seen people on the Ark shake hands — often Kane leads with that, something about a peace offering — but it's never truly been extended toward her.

She doesn't stare for long. Her hand's in his and she gives him a good handshake — perhaps one that'd impress a billionaire or simply make him cautious.

"Raven," she answers, almost automatically now. She's come to realise no one knows her here, not as they would in Arkadia. "Did you come through the fountain, too?"

fountain park;

[vdova]

Natasha had seen the movement out of the corner of her eye on her way to the police station; she likes the indoors for her exercise regimen. Landing on a hard floor is more familiar than landing on the dirt, and Natasha can keep herself from getting hurt with familiar territory. She stops when a head pops up out of the fountain, goes back under, and then pops up again in a different area, looking around at his surroundings.

When he hauls himself out, she's standing at the edge of the fountain, arms crossed, hips canted to the side. She'd not judging him — but she is clearly scrutinizing.

"Find anything you like?"

[thingsfall]

Were this Gotham, were he properly at home and expected to wear the mantle of "Bruce Wayne, eccentric billionaire playboy", he knows how he'd answer that question. Something flirtatious. Something appreciative. Something that would likely make this lady roll her eyes, even if she were inclined to play along.

That false front has served him well over the years, but he quickly grasped it wouldn't do so here. Here, he can just be himself.

That both pleases and worries him, somehow.

But since he's busy being himself: "...A way out didn't magically present itself, so: no. I didn't find anything I liked at all."

[vdova]

"Welcome to the club," she deadpans and offers him a hand up.

"I'd give you the actual name of this place, but as far as I'm aware there isn't one."

Once he's upright, Natasha glances back to the fountain, crosses her arms, and looks back to him.

"Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. What year are you from?"