[Bruce watches him as he explains, each notion seeming to reverberate in the back of his mind, as if to tell him -- yes, this is how it'll be. As if he already knew this is what such connection held with those so closely entwined with each other. But that treasonous part of himself, that decidedly alien sensation, is pushed to the far corners of his mind. He reminds himself that it isn't him; that being bound by loyalty, consideration, expectations, and shared pain was never something he felt he lacked before.
The curious look is reflected back by one that is a... precarious sort of cynicism, perhaps directed more towards the overall situation than the Darkling himself.]
Quite a name. [-he responds, finding it less a name than a title, an alias, a sobriquet. For a moment, he does not even considering giving his own name in return -- a moot point, he imagines, for that would be easy enough to garner from his head if anyone truly wished to. But propriety (in the face of a conversation that may clear up his many questions) overrides his natural tendency towards stoicism.] My name is Bruce Wayne.
[He steps a bit closer, coupling the movement with a question.] And is trust part of equation, too? [Naturally, a question only asked by distrustful people.]
no subject
The curious look is reflected back by one that is a... precarious sort of cynicism, perhaps directed more towards the overall situation than the Darkling himself.]
Quite a name. [-he responds, finding it less a name than a title, an alias, a sobriquet. For a moment, he does not even considering giving his own name in return -- a moot point, he imagines, for that would be easy enough to garner from his head if anyone truly wished to. But propriety (in the face of a conversation that may clear up his many questions) overrides his natural tendency towards stoicism.] My name is Bruce Wayne.
[He steps a bit closer, coupling the movement with a question.] And is trust part of equation, too? [Naturally, a question only asked by distrustful people.]