Disclaimer: I do own this charater, however I don't own anything that you recognize – including Batman.

Interpret at your own will.

*****

Games.

I'm good at them.

Very good, if not too good in fact.

It annoys and downright pisses Kal-el off to no end.

I don't lie per say, I just... flirt, manipulate, seduce and god have mercy its fun. To see someone so 'great' and 'powerful' become so hapless and helpless under my spell. It's thrilling.

But then I wonder how that makes me seem.

Cruel?

Viscous?

Vindictive?

Well maybe a little. But only a little, I deserve it.

I learned from the best of the best. The so called heartless- if only because of hearts they break with great joy and laughter. You're all broken and sad and we enjoy and lavishing in every minute of it.

Every. Minute. Of. It.

What can I say? To us, love and lust are tools in a game. A game with every man and woman as a target and prize. We're not heartless - we do fall in love. We're just so much better at hiding it than you. To love a man or woman is a fatal mistake, it is something we are train not to make – mistakes that is. To love anyone unrestricted is to have fallen without a grapple - that is the conclusion we drew to ourselves. And I'm sure you can guess as to what happens to a person who falls without a grapple.

We are trained to wear several masks and so can see all too well. A curse and a blessing. To both play the game and be bound by it.

To manipulate others - to see them dancing to our every will and wants - it's fun. Not because we enjoy seeing others bend to us but because we love to see arrogant fools get their just desserts. If we simply must play the political and social games, then by the gods, let us do it to our standard of play.

Everyone thinks the Waynes can't play - but they're wrong. We're not indeed at the same level as you. And we're most certainly not beneath you, oh fair lover, we're too good for you. Too good at playing to see the thin wire around your neck as you hang yourself for my amusement, all without a single thought. I am not the puppet master but the master of the puppeteer.

To the world I may be,

But a simple fool

I appear but the prize puppet

Just dangling out of reach

But reach for me at you peril

For all is not as it seems

Reach and you will find,

The strings that you hide

will be your binding knot

marking you as mine.

A simple poem but so true.

brutal beauty,

coarser and free

but still so wild and fiery

Tantalising.

A spark to a fire, oh and he was your starter.

Oh he could tame you and that why he will.

I can't not be tamed

and neither shall he

and perhaps that is why we are tied

In an unending struggle

Of man versus woman.

I never thought I'd play the game with another master. I never thought it could be him. I left so as to not, but at last I think I only set the game piece, I choose without thinking a pawn and he chooses his in return. Our battle ground plaid and the play started.

I won't give in to him

Until he'll bow to me as worth

Of our fatal attraction,

As to be our burden

Of our sinfuly actions.

I'm good at games you see.

Thanks