Chapter Two
Land Speed Record for Awkwardness
Istanbul – Topkapi Palace 1st Floor Main Exhibition Hall – 10:03 P.M.
The social interaction dynamic commonly referred to as the expanding circle is a concept that has made its presence felt since well before a name was officially given to it. In fact, the natural habit had come into common practice the moment some creature had decided to establish themselves as predator to someone's prey. However, if only to explain the idea to those who are uninitiated with the terminological intricacies of socialization, the entire principle has to do with the development of one's social skills through organized efforts of self-exploration, journeys ranging further and further into what the individual considers unknown ground. This venturing into the unfamiliar, in turn, eventually produces a sense of urgency that will ultimately prompt the individual to return to their safest point, the "center of the circle", as it were, in order to regain access to their foremost source of emotional stability.
But why a circle, one might ask? Why not a square or a rectangle or a more common shape of a room where one could spend the last forty minutes embarrassing themselves? That particularly disconcerting pair of questions was certainly weighing heavily on Lloyd's mind as he continued to sway back and forth from his spot on the southwestern corner of the dance floor. To his credit, he had managed to stop himself from outright clinging to the familiar woman in his arms like a life preserver in the middle of an exceptionally posh and choppy sea and it hadn't taken long after that to recognize that his partner in misery just happened to be in the same psychological boat.
"You want to know what the scariest part about all of this, Shrew?" Lloyd asked as he led Scandal through a rather slow, dreary waltz.
"The fact that the both of us once honestly viewed this as a possibility to have a good time?" Scandal dully fired back, her response slightly muffled by the fact that she had all but wedged her chin into Lloyd's shoulder blade. She knew that she could have made her response a great deal clearer if she simply lifted her head up but the sheer dullness and depression brought forth by the last hour or so had left her far too lazy to do such a thing.
"No. The fact that the biggest source of entertainment we've had is my boss makin' an absolute twat out of himself."
Scandal let out a slightly amused snort just before the sound of familiar and boisterous laughter sunk into her ears. She hardly needed her eyes to determine the source of the merriment but a quick left turn allowed her to take a closer look as Bruce Wayne wrapped his right arm around a decidedly nervous looking man. All the formal wear made it a little difficult for the leader of The Secret Six to determine who was who but, judging solely from the horrified look that arose on the stranger's face when Gotham's richest man asked about where he could find a good steakhouse in New Delhi, she was fairly confident that the suddenly sick-looking fellow was one of India's representatives for the night's festivities.
"Lloyd David Thomas, you certainly have a knack for falling into the clutches of unusual bosses."
The auburn-haired mercenary found herself surprised to not hear so much as a chuckle or even a distempered grunt from her dance partner. The lack of a reaction finally provided enough of a trigger for her to pull back from her somewhat comfortable resting place in order to look Lloyd in the eye. "This isn't one of your usual brooding sessions, is it?"
The familiar question finally earned Scandal a sigh as the two vigilantes clasped their left hands together before breaking into a brief twirl in response to the cue provided by the piano's upswing. "This. . ." Lloyd began, the young man clearly not certain just what he wanted to whinge about first. "This isn't what I thought I would make of my life."
Scandal wanted to express her sympathy to the boy who had saved her life far too many times than she really felt like counting. Truly she did. However, she also realized that she hadn't maintained this friendship for as long as she had by being a complete emotional doormat and she reflected that with a solid rolling of her eyes. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that you're a little young for a mid-life crisis?" she asked as her sea green pupils shifted back down to their normal resting place. "And just what does our mutual friend inside your head have to say about this?"
Lloyd momentarily stymied his opponent's rebellious air with a somewhat dangerous glare before bringing himself to respond. "The old demon keeps tellin' me I'm worryin' over nothin'. That I've got plenty of time to get these things squared away." The reply was delivered with a deep, knowing tone as if the speaker was frustrated to see the truth in the words. "Shrew, the last time I ended up lookin' fer me own I ended up becomin' an assassin. Not sayin' that it was all a bad thing, 'specially since it meant I got to meet you and the codger but. . ."
"And before that?" Scandal interrupted, the older of the two dancers eager to get to the point.
"And 'fore that I got locked up in a test tube for five years so you'll pardon me if I'm more than a little up fer securin' my spot."
"Lloyd, that happened when you were seven," Scandal said sternly, the severity in her once jocular tone a good indication that this was a discussion that had taken place many times before. "Now, I know how kids your age like to think they know everything but the bottom line is you don't and you're doubtlessly gonna find a way to screw shit up."
The familiar words briefly stung at the young man occasionally known as The Black Dog. However, just as it had before, the moment of caution etched on the Brit's face soon shifted into a smirk.
"Ya kiss your poppa wit' that mouth, Shrew?"
The punch to the shoulder was both familiar and reassuring to the both of them as Lloyd and Scandal once again took relief in each other's company. Barely missing a beat, The Black Dog didn't either bother to defend himself from the blow as he placed his right hand on the small of Scandal's back before leading her through a well practiced contra check. "You know, I would 'ave expected a bit more support from some lass who keeps drummin' 'erself up as me big sister."
Scandal fired back with a sigh of her own. "Lloyd, I've just spent my day talking about gun regulations, pet policies, and the moral and ethical principles behind killing someone who dresses up like a clown," she explained with a surprising degree of patience. "You're lucky you're getting this much from me." Despite her apparent moodiness, the former employee of Mao Tenryu couldn't help but find herself laughing alongside Lloyd as the boy's smirk turned into an out-and-out smile.
"So I guess I'm not the only one in this particular team-up who's feelin' a little boxed in," Lloyd hypothesized, the Brit carrying on with his woes without waiting for a response, albeit with a much more neutral approach. "I guess that's what happens when lads or lasses like you and I finally end up tryin' to settle down. Gettin' lonely lookin' for that special someone, and not just in the 'rut like a pig in the mud' kind of way either."
The older of the two mercenaries didn't even bother shaking her head, a lifetime or more spent surrounded by some of the swarthier members of the more horrific sex making her long comfortable with such disgusting similes. "Well, as silly as it sounds from someone as young as you, I believe I can sympathize." Scandal had little qualms with breaking the traditional stance that had been established for waltzers for nearly two centuries as she wrapped her arms tightly around Lloyd's back. "It's all about having the courage to take a chance, little brother. You've got to be ready to give up something you already have if you want to get something new."
Lloyd almost found himself forced to take a few moments and let the truthful words sink in, his tongue briefly sliding against the back of his teeth as he looked for a way to distract himself from it. "Well, you make it sound all nice and palatable," he sourly replied. "You know, I've changed my mind. Right now, I'd be just as fine findin' somebody I could shag."
"Well, don't come lookin' to me again," Scandal quickly fired back with a snicker. "Still, it can't be that bad. I mean, I've known you to be more Kwai Chang Caine than Austin Powers in situations like these so how bad could it possibly be?"
Lloyd would have allowed his body to come to a complete stop if doing so would not have been viewed as a dreadful faux pas. Instead, he allowed his eyes to represent the rest of him before his words could pick up the slack.
"I rang up Lady Aensland a couple weeks ago."
Scandal couldn't help but suck in a breath before clinching her teeth in a showcase of discomfiture. "Oooooh. Well, anyway. So how is Turkey's most prominent succubus and madam to the demon community?"
"No clue. I hung up out of fright before she could get two words out." Astonishingly, the giggling burbling from Scandal's lips didn't make him feel one bit better. "Been afraid to answer me cell phone ever sense," he added before his dance partner all but slammed her face into his chest in order to stifle the sound of her laughter. However, as troubled as he could have been by the whole matter, The Black Dog soon found himself preoccupied with what was going on at the entrance to the hall. Many other pairs of eyes had turned to meet the intriguing scene, the distraction even prompting the musicians to cease their more than adequate performance in order to allow the nearby master of ceremonies to make the announcement.
"Distinguished ladies and gentlemen, it is my privilege to present the esteemed Alexander Luthor and his privileged guest, Miss Talia Al-Ghul."
Gotham City – The Batcave – 1:05 P.M. Eastern Standard Time
OMG! Ur so dumb! BC is sooooooo a cow!
Kara Zor-el let out another long sigh as her eyes slowly perused the supposed words on the tall computer screen.
STFU n00b! Fishnets are sexy! Yur prolly a fat-ass bitch who can't wear 'em cuz your lard ass would spill out of 'em!
"How in the name of Rao can two different people misspell the same, exact word in two different ways in so short a time span?" the fair-haired Kryptonian couldn't help but ask herself while slumping both her chin and the right side of her cheek against her right knuckle.
LOL! I so agree wit U, RayPickle! Black Canary is fiiiiiiiiiiine. I'd luuuuuuuv to stick my. . .
"Aaaaaaaand we're moving on," the half-Kryptonian quickly decided aloud while clicking the left mouse button in order to promptly retreat from the latest in a long line of websites and discussion forums that had forced her to question both her intelligence as well as her sanity. After spending the last five, painful hours perusing quite a bit of what Earth's most far-reaching form of mass communication had to offer, she had started to seriously debate the worth of defending the safety and liberties of people that would allow such drivel to exist. Poorly drawn pictures and kitschy, fan-made music videos of some band called Linkin Park and discussions about public figures laced with emoticons and devoid of intelligent debate now all seemed to be working together to attack her gray matter, the sheer collection of stupidity seemingly doing its best to eliminate whatever sense of good judgment she had accumulated in her 16 years.
Honestly, if I find one more person comparing me to Paris Hilton I'm going to fly up into the stratosphere and use my heat vision to sterilize this whole planet.
Oh, and she wasn't about to forget that bit of fanfiction she all but wandered into, a piece of tawdry literature whose sole purpose was to discuss the intricacies of what the author would do if he had access to two certain parts of Powergirl's body. In fact, the sheer volume of the material on the World Wide Web that appeared to be devoted to her Earth-1 equivalent, or at least a particular part of Karen Starr's body, had prompted her to fervently wish that she would never reach that particular level of physical "maturity".
As nauseated as she was, Kara was still more than capable of picking up the presence of yet another potential source of irritation sneaking its way towards her. In response, she crossed her slim and perfectly fit arms in front of her appropriately sized chest while waiting for what had quickly become the bane of her existence to get within strangling range. As far as she was concerned, the fact that the monster was sporting a grin so ridiculously toothy that it would have been worthy of an overlay of the Jaws theme only made what she was about to do that much sweeter.
"Go away before I kill you," Kara mumbled miserably without even batting an eyelash, her mood slightly lifted by the disappointed sigh that escaped from her tormentor's lips.
"Awwww, and I thought I had you that time!" Stephanie said as she gnashed her teeth in mild frustration, the young Green Lantern looking so childish that she looked half-ready to stamp her boot-clad feet.
"Well, it turns out that I've got these super senses," Kara's explanation was drawn out, meticulous, and laced with more than a trace of sarcasm. "Kindaaaaaaaaa makes it hard to sneak up on me."
"Yeah, yeah," Stephanie replied as she slumped into the nearby computer chair, her medium-length blonde hair flopping up and down along with the rest of her as she briefly bounced in her newfound seat. "Mind if I play Tetris on the big screen, Kare Bear?"
Kara's initial rejoinder was a long, weighted breath that caused a stray bang that had been hanging above her left eyebrow to briefly flutter up from its haphazard location before coming back down to its resting point. "Sorry, Steph. I'm busy using the Batcomputer."
"All you're doing is wasting time on the Internet!" The counterargument was little more than a squawk.
"Welllllll, it looks like that's all this is." The reply kept up the slow, monotonous tone that The Last Daughter of Krypton had been bringing to the table. "Still, some yahoo told me that this would help me learn about Earth culture and, you know, gosh darn it, I'm going to see it through." She punctuated her conviction with a half-hearted thump of her left fist against Stephanie's shoulder that caused Robin to fire back with a decidedly cross look. "Oh, and on a side note," she added with a hint of emotion, "you've got an e-mail from some prince in Egypt that would like you to give him your account number so he can give you money."
"Such graceful charity," Stephanie fired back with a small measure of concession, her deceptively sharp mind already focused upon a new task. Although Alfred, Bruce, and Lloyd may have already caught on to the fact that there was a bit more to her than the braggadocio and loud approaches, this new arrival to her broadening circle of comrades gave her another potential playmate/victim and she was looking to exploit it for as long as she could. Pulling the tip of her tongue so that it would drag across the left side of her mouth, she let out a tired sigh that could have been pilfered straight from the emotional arsenal of all the ditzy blondes whose faces were plastered on the front of nearly every magazine that Kara had spent the last few hours perusing.
"Soooo," Robin slowly began. "Don't you just hate how Superman thinks that he knows everything? I mean, the guy's cool and all with the world-saving and the rescuing kittens from trees but, still, it's like he expects everybody to get in line just to tell him that his shit smells like cinnamon and spring time. I mean, just because he can probably juggle planets doesn't mean that he can't make mistakes too!"
"Yup," Kara's offering to the exchange in view points was all but soaked in disinterest, her attention almost exclusively devoted to a recent article published by Dr. Sanjay Gupta that attempted to connect low test scores by American high school students with prolonged periods spent on the Internet.
Steph nodded in the face of her conversational partner's agreement, the Green Lantern seemingly encouraged by the marginal show of support. "I mean, I am really, really glad that you came over onto our side of the fence. Batsie can be a little cold at first but, trust me, all you have to do is work hard and do your best and he'll appreciate you for it." She leaned in until her face was only a foot-and-a-half from Kara's left ear, a deliciously conspiratorial grin on her face as if she was ready to tell her younger comrade a deep, dark secret. "He even said he'll teach me how to fly The Batplane."
"That's nice," Kara answered back with far less enthusiasm, her lone other physical movement coming from when another rogue bang slipped out from behind her right ear and she used her long fingers to sweep it back.
"Lloyd sure is cute, huh?"
"Yeah."
Though the somewhat dreamy, one-word reply may have been little more than an instinctual response spawned by a lazy lowering of the defenses, the aftermath of the minor event was a great deal more tangible. Kara's right hand seemed to launch itself from some unseen spring, the mouse that was once in her hand suddenly flying through the air as it was harshly yanked from its connections with a sharp drag of plastic and electricity. Stephanie, on the other hand, didn't even bother watching the small control device begin its long journey down into the bottom of The Batcave as she paid particular attention to how her new friend's face turned beet red with embarrassment, the blush only made deeper as the young Green Lantern let out a decidedly evil laugh. Then, looking like the canary that had caught the cat, skinned it of its fur, and then hung up the poor, humiliated feline in front of a pack of hungry dogs, she pressed forward.
"Yeahhh, I saw how you were tryin' to make eyes with The Puppy before you chickened out," Steph said with quite a degree of satisfaction as Kara struggled to recover from her humiliation. "Almost as funny as watching Lloyd Boy go completely stupid staring at your legs like that while pussing out at the same time."
"You were watching us?" Kara asked with dread, the alarm in her wide, blue eyes only adding more fuel to Stephanie's smirk. "I mean, he's a couple years older than me and. . . and I just got here and. . .," the young woman's babbling started out slightly incoherent and was quickly ratcheting its way toward incomprehensible. "And I barely know him and aren't the guys supposed to ask the girls out and what if he says no and, oh my God, and I don't wanna embarrass myself like that time with the Outsiders when I kissed Nightwing and he got all embarrassed and he didn't know I was just trying to be nice and. . ."
"Woah, woah, woah! Gear down, Kare Bear. Easy with the ands," Stephanie interrupted as she raised a pair of open palms in surrender. "Look, against my better judgment, I'm not even gonna bother asking what you and Nightthing did but, trust me, there's no need to be so nervous. In fact, and don't you dare tell him this or I'll chop your arms off and throw them into a red sun, but Lloyd's a pretty nice guy. That being said, you're probably going to have to be the one to make the first move."
"Hey, it's not that easy!" Kara protested, her realization that she was being talked down to finally summoning her usually impressive wellspring of valor. "And besides, if he's such a great guy then why aren't you with him?"
Stephanie held up two fingers in the face of the incoming anger, her eyes remaining calm and still throughout. "First, it's very easy for a girl to make the first move. All you do is go up to him, make with the soft, doe eyes ('should be easy for you' she added to herself with just a hint of bitterness), and say 'Hi. You're cute. You want to go out with me?' As for your question," she went on as Kara stood stock still in fear of such a supposedly simple proposition. "Lloyd may be a nice guy but he's also an emotionally stunted limey with a smart mouth and a heavy duty emotional complex."
Robin pursed her lips at this, the fair-haired Gothamite realizing that she may have just devalued her own argument. "Still, I think you two would be a pretty cute match," she added just so she could seal the deal.
The slow burn Kara had to give to her antagonist provided some pretty solid evidence that she hadn't.
"Gee. Thanks."
Istanbul – 10:19 P.M.
Though he was certainly not an expert in the field of reading facial expressions, Noah Kuttler found himself thoroughly convinced that his oldest friend was about to put an end to his foppish façade. As it stood, however, the unhealthy looking combination of Bruce's high, proud cheekbones that was currently helping support his cheerful laugh and the stormy, incensed gleam resonating from his cold, blue eyes made the supposed billionaire letch look like something out of a high-class slasher movie. Even the various bits of eye candy that had accompanied the older and more infirm portions of the world's elite, the ones that had been looking at Bruce as a potentially fresher horizon since the moment he had arrived, were starting to sense the danger in the air as the well made-up faces and cosmetically perfect bodies quickly scooted away from Gotham's favorite son. Heaven help the poor fool who was the target of such thinly veiled ire, such a calculated helping of authoritative fury.
Particularly so, Noah couldn't help but think as he batted back the almost overpowering urge to clean his spectacles, given that the poor fool just happens to be me.
"Well, if it isn't Noah Kuttler," Bruce said with what Noah supposed to be a careless and jovial air. On the other hand, the oxygen-depriving grip that his oldest friend had on his shoulders and neck as Bruce wrapped his arm around him blunted the expert hacker's optimism quite nicely. "All these unexpected old acquaintances and they're all in the same place at the same time! What are the odds, old buddy?"
"Y. . . yes, yes," Noah stuttered out, the persistent glower that remained in Bruce's eyes leaving him far too timorous to even make a reach for his familiar handkerchief. "It. . . is quite serendipitous. I suppose that. . . that not even a master detective could possibly anticipate such a bizarre happenstance."
How amazing it was that someone searching so diligently to find the precisely right thing to say could then respond with the worst possible series of words.
"Or a computer expert, I imagine," Bruce said with a ridiculously forced air of joviality, the tone in the detective's voice prompting the elder of the two former private schoolboys to feel convinced that five years had just been taken off his life span. "Especially with someone with your kind of connections."
The nervous round of laughter that was all but forced out of The Calculator's lungs sounded quite like a chipmunk chattering away while fleeing away from a hated predator. "Bruce, Bruce, please stop this," he replied, his poor attempts at maintaining his character dissolving completely. "You know how I hate situations like this. I. . . I think I'm suffering a stress-based nosebleed. . ."
"You'll be suffering from a great deal worse if you don't at least have the information you promised," Bruce snarled back through gritted teeth, his performance doubtlessly coming to an end just as hastily.
"Mister Kuttler! What are you doing here?" interrupted an alluring though entirely unwanted voice. As unwanted as it was however, it didn't stop either Bruce or Noah from taking a brief glimpse as Talia Al-Ghul stood in front of them, the leader of The League of Assassins impatiently awaiting a response. Dressed in a simple but stylish royal purple gown that seemed to suit the air of righteous splendor that seemed to radiate from every well-maintained pore, the pleasing blend of her exotic beauty and the strength framed around her stern countenance was worth far more than a cursory glance. Despite her impressive attempt to make herself look untouchable, however, Bruce had more than enough experience in the field of knowing what could be done to render her soft and glorious.
Dangerous. . . impossibly enticing. . .
And Bruce Wayne suddenly discovered that he had to shake his head back and forth just so he could clear the cobwebs.
"Perhaps it would be wise if we took this conversation to somewhere a little more private."
"That's fine by me," Talia whispered back to her beloved with equal resolve. "Go away, Noah."
"Gl. . . gladly," Noah shakily replied, his long legs more than happy to aid him in his quest to shuffle away from the scene as quickly as possible, his hands working together on the instinctual accord of simultaneously reaching for his glasses and handkerchief. Neither of the former lovers watched the hacker's hurried retreat, the both of them now seemingly escorting each other away from the main hall and towards a side corridor. The series of shared steps across the luxurious carpeting and well-crafted marble eventually led the two of them to a picturesque terrace overlooking the Second Courtyard, the balcony lined with well-maintained thatches of sweet-smelling roses and jasmine. Crickets chirped as the bright, half-moon shone above them in the western sky as Bruce and Talia all but stomped onto the old brick that supported the large balcony, the two leaders almost daring each other to meet each other's eyes.
"What on Earth are you doing here?" Talia screeched with a mild degree of outrage as they finally came to a stop. "Surely you must have expected that Luthor would attempt to make his presence here!"
"I have a job to do," Bruce fired back with a strong but quiet roar, the detective determined not to notice that the woman accosting him was threatening to churn his lonely heart into overdrive. "Not just as The Dark Knight but also as Bruce Wayne. You're not the only one who can publicly cast their lot."
"Do you honestly think that this is what this is all about? How dare you think I would have any allegiance for that power-starved brute! I am only doing what I can to ensure the safety of planet!"
"By what? Taking it over?" Bruce fired back, the accusatory tone of his inquiries prompting a flicker of pain t pass through Talia's features. "By placing your finger on the pulse of the world just so you can choose when and where you want to press down?"
"No, by backing the side that is likely to leave this world standing after this war is over!" Talia countered, her steely determination quickly restoring itself despite the temptation put forward by the fire in her beloved's eyes. Still, there were precious few things that could have stopped her from doing whatever she could to claim that passion, to float within that ardor for only a moment, but this was certainly one of them. "True history is made by those who attempt to change things from within, not by those who openly claim that they will try to save or destroy the world!"
Bruce, despite not being the least bit convinced of the nobility behind Talia's intentions, chose to give his former lover the point.
"After all, I imagine that's why you are here to meet The Calculator, is it not?"
The Batman was upon his quarry in an instant, his hands wrapped around Talia's wrists in an unflinching grip. "Does Luthor know?" he asked with a hiss, the instinct to attempt to cover up the truth quickly abandoned. "What do you plan on telling him?" He threatened with a voice that could seemingly cut glass.
The Vanguard of The Demon made no effort to break free from the hold Bruce had on her, the look in her eyes displaying a sympathetic softness that she would show to only a handful of fortunate souls. "You know I won't," she said gently, her tone prompting Bruce to let her go. She tried her best not to shudder as her beloved's hands lingered a second longer on her palms and wrist then they needed to. "I made certain to lead Lex away from the two of you before I came to greet you. Given his fervent need to impress these sycophants, I find it highly doubtful that he witnessed our exchange."
Bruce found he had to put some effort into restraining the half-smirk that threatened to creep upon his otherwise stern countenance, his long-acquired knowledge of Metropolis's second-favorite son providing more than enough proof that Talia's hypothesis was a strong one. However, he chose to remain still as Talia moved away from him, her shapely hips softly swaying left and right with each elegant motion.
"You owe me a dance, beloved."
The master detective was quick to follow. After all, for all his mental discipline and unfettered resolve, there was only so much that a man could take.
10:42 P.M.
Given how the already dismal night had been going, Lloyd probably should have suspected that something else was bound to go wrong. After all, he had finally managed to talk himself down from making any further attempts to search for wine, women, or song and had just grown comfortable with settling for a somewhat comfortable evening with his big sister. In fact, his troubled mind had almost come to the conclusion that the evening's festivities could turn out to be somewhat passable rather than an absolute failure of nearly biblical proportions.
Of course, after all the fresh hells that had assaulted him in the previous hours, the young man certainly should have known better. And, if that didn't work, the barely fettered rage that etched itself onto Scandal's face should have been quite the giveaway as the lady mercenary all but dragged him off the dance floor. After wisely choosing to take the high road and not use his telepathy to read his big sister's mind, the 19-year-old Briton chose instead to sweep his eyes over whatever Scandal had been fixated on for the last five or ten seconds. Raising his eyebrows at the nearby scene, he couldn't help but feel more than a little underwhelmed.
"Shouldn't we be doing anything about Lex Luthor doing the meet and greet over there with Gordon Brown?" he asked while continuing to allow himself to be dragged about. "I mean, I imagine that the last thing we need is to let that megalomaniac keep chatting up world leaders. After all, heaven knows what diabolical plans for world ruination that Lex could learn from 'im."
The Black Dog allowed himself a chuckle, the former assassin only mildly perturbed that Scandal didn't seem to appreciate his effort at levity. Deciding that it was just a matter of missing something, he shifted his hazel eyes back towards the buffet table Scandal was stomping towards with him in tow. He supposed that the Phantom of the Opera type mask, even when combined with a simple, black tuxedo, was more than a little suspicious given the otherwise posh air surrounding the proceedings. The long, red hair, despite being wrapped up in a rather untidy ponytail, looked a little too coarse for high society and the odd looks the gentleman was receiving from the surrounding diners seemed to prove that Lloyd was not alone with his thoughts.
"What in the pluperfect hell are you doing here, Merkel?!" Scandal whispered through gritted teeth.
Merkel, in his defense, didn't seem the least bit offended by Scandal's tone. "Isn't this the most wonderfully bewildering of dining experiences, Lady Scandal? Five types of superbly gelatinous goodness, I tell you," the dandy freak added as he scooped another heaving helping of viscous sustenance onto his already overflowing plate. "Small wonder that father was so interested in familiarizing me with high society. Well, before he disowned me and attempted to carve out my intestines."
"Friend of yours, big sister?" Lloyd asked while raising his eyebrows in interest, the never-ending appeal of schadenfreude already causing him to break into a smile.
Scandal briefly turned around to shoot an angry glare back at her little brother, the immortal quietly warning The Black Dog of the potential price of his actions. "Lloyd, this is Peter Merkel Jr.," she explained with as much patience as she could muster. "Peter, this is. . ."
"Lloyd Thomas, a gifted young man somewhat more commonly known as The Black Dog," Merkel replied as he extended a disjointed right arm in a gesture of greeting. "Of course, given the situation, I suppose it would be more appropriate to introduce me as Ragdoll, given our proclivity for colorful nom de guerres. Pardon me for the overfull plate, by the way. I've found that such rubbery, consumable liquids do wonders for my cybernetic joints and I apparently allowed my instincts to get the better of me."
If they hadn't already acquired quite a bit of unwanted attention, the sight of Scandal now dragging two men, one in each angrily tensed hand, across the nearly priceless, 18th century Turkish rug helped them acquire another handful of interested onlookers. Thankfully, a brief hint of telepathic masking enabled Lloyd and his companions to avoid any further interest as the leader of The Secret Six escorted them into a side hall. To his credit, it only took a moment for Lloyd to glimpse at Scandal's bulging temples before conducting a telepathic scan to determine if anyone might happen to have some aspirin among their personal professions.
Or Valium perhaps, Lloyd couldn't help but think as his big sister seemed to struggle with coming up with the words that could accurately describe her present frame of mind. Better safe than sorry, after all.
"Answer the question or I chop your limbs off and mount them over my fireplace," Scandal growled.
Ragdoll shrugged his shoulders while rewarding Scandal's maliciousness with a bright smile. "Now, now, little homicidal petal. There is no need to be so upset. I was merely attempting to follow up my inquiry upon the pet policies of our shared residency. After all, given the joviality of the situation at hand and the abject relief that was on your face when you announced that you were going to meet your 'little brother', I presumed that now would be the most auspicious opportunity to push my fortunes."
The scraggly contortionist then turned his attentions towards Lloyd, the murderer giving the raven-haired Brit a cheery wave. "I must confess that I'm quite experienced in this particular social experience," he said with a buoyant sotto voce. "I also had the privilege of escorting my elder sister to numerous formal gatherings. Of course, dear Alex and I never reached the physical plateau that the two of you have reportedly achieved but. . ."
The sound of harsh stomps across the marble floor beneath their feet briefly prompted Lloyd to turn away from the intensely cumbersome scene. A somewhat burly redhead was making their way towards them, the man's muscular frame seemingly squeezed into what was obviously a rental tuxedo that appeared to be several sizes too small for him. There was a desperate look in the fellow's eyes, as if the man was more than ready to either beg for forgiveness or accept a grisly fate, that almost forced The Black Dog to feel sorry for him despite the fact that he had no clue just who the stranger happened to be. Briefly raising his guard as the new arrival skidded between Ragdoll and Scandal, it didn't take long for Lloyd to decide to sit back and watch the scene unfold.
"Oh jeez, oh jeez, oh jeez. Scandal, I am so verysorry that this happened. I tried to stop them!"
"I keep telling everyone that it's just a friendly title." Scandal replied as she all but slammed her right palm against her forehead. "We are not biologically related in any way. . ." The previously spoken series of repentant words then finally managed to sink in, the newfound moment somehow transferring Scandal's wrath from one cowering redhead to the other. "BLAKE?! Why are you here?"
In response, Thomas Blake, a man who had spent the last several weeks going toe-to-toe with some of the worst monsters and contract killers the world over, once again allowed his hunter's instincts to take over. "I tried to stop them. I really did," he all but jabbered out while briefly backpedaling away in a manner that is instinctual to all who have ever adopted the role of "prey". "But by the time I found out what was happening the jet had already been fired up and it was all I could do to make sure they got here without crashing into anything!"
"Oh, dear. Please do not blame dear Thomas for this," Ragdoll replied in response, a genuinely apologetic tone within his otherwise polished delivery. "It appears that we've fallen victim to yet another miscommunication. You see, upon deciding to visit you, sweet Parademon decided to accompany me in order to continue his quest to monitor my well-being. His diligence, in turn, acquired the attention of Mister Lawton, who then chose to accompany us out of some brutish desire to consume as many expensive alcoholic beverages that he could find, and I suppose one thing led to another."
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute." Scandal interceded, her aching but swift mind allowing her to quickly do the math. "You mean to tell me that you left Cheshire alone in my 3,500 square-foot mansion?" she realized, her anxious sights quickly twisting back and forth between Catman and Ragdoll as if she couldn't decide which one of them she wanted to kill first.
As bizarrely amusing as the scene was, however, Lloyd found himself once again tempted to look upon another unexpected visitor. The telepathic glamour was already on the tip of his cerebral cortex but the mere sight of the gorgeous lady looking back at him was quick to place his defenses on the backburner. Though certainly quite the "tall drink of water", to borrow an old saying from his former mentor, the power that seemed to circulate around the beauty's robust, muscular frame appealed to both his human and, well, more demonic instincts. The dark-green cocktail dress that was seemingly molded to the woman's skin certainly didn't hurt matters either, the slit down the middle of the bottom half revealing a glorious amount of long, muscular leg.
Positively glorious, Lloyd couldn't help but think as he flashed what he hoped to be an engaging, come hither stare in the direction of the statuesque beauty. Personally, I prefer something a bit more slender but this is something I can more than appreciate.
For all his ogling, however, it didn't take long for the telepath to realize that something was amiss. Needing only a bit of effort to block out all the bickering going on behind him, he soon realized that the gleaming smile that the tall redhead was proudly sporting was not directed at him in the least. As discouraging as that may have been, however, the promise behind what lay there caused an almost boyish grin to come to his face.
"Oi! Shrew." He interrupted while turning back towards his explosive former partner. "That lady over there's. . ."
"Not now, Lloyd!" Scandal snapped back, the vigilante now in full-on "Mom mode" complete with her hands on her hips and a pair of sheepish looking gentlemen looking on. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
10:56 P.M.
As he needlessly guided her through a series of graceful cross hesitations, Bruce couldn't help but think back to some of his first and longest lasting memories of Talia Al-Ghul. Granted, his thoughts had then been riddled with the perfectly logical worries brought about by the situation at the time, namely the kidnapping of his ward in order to provoke a meeting with her megalomaniacal father. However, not even those alarming circumstances could fully blunt the effect that the daughter of Ra's Al-Ghul had on him from the very start.
Much as Dick would have liked to disagree with him on the notion, it wasn't just Talia's physical beauty that had drawn him towards her despite all the lingering warnings put forth by every bit of his instincts as a detective. It was just another part of his overriding tendency to see things in black-and-white, to broadly define everything he encountered in order to place them in easily accessible, comfortable categories only to find that some things were impossible to stay in a single category.
Selina was more than happy to put all her cards down onto the table from the very start. Everything with her was out in the open, even if it took the both of them a while to realize just what the other one was bringing to the competitive match of flirtations and warnings and temptations. She never took any measures to pretend that she was something other than what she already was or chose to be.
Yes, Selina Kyle had made certain to establish that, if he wanted her, then he would have to keep up with the chase. She wouldn't slow down for anyone and she certainly wouldn't change to suit anyone's fancy.
Talia, on the other hand, was an entirely different matter. Bruce realized that the moment Ra's chose to demonstrate how he could become his greatest enemy. He could still remember trying his best not to outwardly cringe as Ubu, under his master's order, slammed his meaty right fist into Richard's gut, the harsh blow cracking several ribs and causing a pained wheeze to escape from his ward's lips. He made certain to keep a great deal of his thoughts centered around the smirk on the face of that refined maniac, that arrogant gesture which was solely devoted to the task of ensuring his quarry that he could break him and everyone he knew at a moment's notice. The detective knew that the bald superciliousness was something he could exploit, something that he would consistently be eager to overcome.
The twinge of sympathy and compassion that flickered upon Talia's face was something that had proven to be a great deal more difficult for him to deal with. That fraction of a second, along with dozens upon dozens of others in the 17 years he had come to care for The Daughter of The Demon's Head, continually reminded Bruce of so much of what he had been fighting for since he was a boy crying in that dark, fetid alley alongside his mother and father's cold corpses. He could see the true beauty in her, inside and out, no matter how hard she or her father had attempted to hide it or beat it down. That realization prompted him to think that maybe if he tried a little bit harder, pushed himself harder to show that there was another solution besides the grim inevitability that Ra's had drummed into her thoughts from the moment she was born, then he could save her.
And the fact that she had saved him, salvaged him more times than he would have liked to admit to himself, only made the situation seem even more impossible to crawl away from. Would anyone else have been able to bring him back to Gotham City after the disillusionment he felt as his beloved home was deemed a no man's land? He liked to think that Richard might have been able to do it, possibly even Selina, but Bruce certainly had his doubts. He knew, for better or for worse, that no one was more certain of what he could be than the challenging enigma swaying with him upon the dance floor.
And that's a big reason why he sought perfection. Perhaps that would be enough to unearth the kindness buried within the hard shells that had been forced upon the both of them, the humanity that they were both forced to abandon at the behest of their overseers.
"So which one of us shall play the part of redeemer during this particular difference of opinion?" asked Talia with a familiar drawl, the poised beauty reading her beloved's thoughts without the least bit of difficulty. "Though I recognize your predilection for chivalry and allowing the woman to take the point at her leisure, I must confess that I'm a slightly leery of making the effort under these specific circumstances."
Bruce's blue eyes stayed locked on Talia's jade-green orbs, the two of them once again grappling for control that neither of them would ever give up as they glided across the sprawling dance floor. "Sorry to disappoint you," the detective said darkly, his formerly foolish persona now long forgotten, "but I have enough responsibilities on my plate as it is."
"Do you now? Well, you'll pardon me for being rude but I can scarcely imagine what a free-wheeler like you would have to worry about short of poaching the company of others."
The sputter of fear that momentarily ran through Talia as Lex Luthor made his presence felt caused Bruce's blood to boil, the powerful instinct to defend the woman in his arms becoming extremely difficult to suppress. Reminding himself of the limitations that Bruce Wayne delivered to this kind of situation, the detective was soon able to marshal his will and put on a ridiculously large grin as he turned to face his frequent nemesis.
To his credit, the former President of The United States of America barely looked the least bit perturbed by the suspicious goings on. All that he required was to broadcast a barely perceptible hint of maliciousness from within the confines of his otherwise stern countenance, the clean shaven leader of The Secret Society looking like little more than a predator waiting on his haunches. He was a hunter praying that his prey would rise to the bait, a role that the disgraced billionaire had been more than happy to play dozens of times during his political and professional career.
"Well, I'll admit that I've never had quite the same kind of determination as you have, Luthor," Bruce offered in a well-practiced, "aw shucks" tone that had been nearly completely copied from The Man of Steel's playbook. Just as he had hoped, the comment served both of its purposes, the first made abundantly clear as Lex fired back with a cold glance.
"Now, now, Mister Wayne," Talia countered, the second effect of Bruce's counter quickly making itself felt. "I believe that only a fool would not be able to see the many benefits that Wayne Enterprises and the Martha Wayne Foundation have provided for the less fortunate both in America as well as the less privileged areas of the world."
"Small wonder then that Mister Wayne would then fail to see these vast changes," Luthor calmly countered, the acerbic words causing a growl to rise from the pit of Talia's throat. "Of course, I suppose that there are advantages to having people more intelligent than yourself under your beck and call. You have Lucius Fox to run your corporate empire, the good Mister Hislop can perform the leg work for your so-called philanthropic efforts. . ."
Bruce did his best to appear to look neutral and unknowing of the intentions of his antagonist as the smirk on Luthor's face continued to inch wider and wider.
"And, if all else fails," Luthor added, "you can always seduce a charming lady to sell your rival's financial holdings to you at a fraction of their allotted value."
"And just what integral role have you chosen to play, Mister Luthor?" Talia snapped back while striding forward so quickly that Bruce almost felt compelled to hold her back. "Conductor of one of the least successful presidential reigns in American history? Orchestrator of one of the most shameless commercial expansion projects since the collapse of the Industrial Revolution?" The progressive series of rhetorical inquiries had prompted Luthor to bristle more and more, the series of reactions spurring Talia on. "Or are you referring to your function as the antithesis of a ridiculously cheerful alien who wears his underwear over his head?"
Bruce allowed for a mild hint of concern to run through his otherwise flawless mask of worry as he swerved between the two quarreling debaters. By now the previously chilly glower that Luthor had been sporting was now threatening to turn into a hint of murderous rage fueled by Talia's words. "Now, now. There's no need for arguing like this. This is a celebration, after all. Lex, I would like to apologize if it seemed as if I was infringing on your territory. There's no need for any bad blood. . ."
"Save it, Wayne," Luthor snapped back, the former corporate mastermind shaking off the grip Bruce had on his shoulder with a surprising ease. "Just feel fortunate that you've managed to stumble upon another fool who's chosen to defend you."
Bruce kept his guard up even after Luthor had turned and stalked away from him, the despotic genius doubtlessly off to search for less hostile environments that he could easily hold dominion over. Taking a brief scan of the surrounding environment for any other visible threats, he shifted his body back around and saw the decidedly even expression on the face of his former lover.
"As problematic as that may turn out to be," Talia mused, "I must admit that felt damn good."
10:58 P.M.
"Well," Thomas Blake finally concluded while taking a bite out of one of the small collection of appetizers he had just selected from the nearby buffet, "at least we managed to stop her from poisoning our entire water supply."
Lloyd and Scandal both replied with calm nods of agreement as they too began to tuck into the generous portions of food that they had been tempted to gather thanks to the potent combination of hunger and frustration. It may have only taken a handful of seconds for The Black Dog to restrain Cheshire from doing more damage than she already had and just slightly longerfor Catman and Scandal to agree upon having the teleporter drop the assassin off at a convenient holding cell within a particular Chinese embassy but the entire experience had still managed to leave the unlikely trio in need of a little comfort-based sustenance.
"You know, Blake," Lloyd continued on after a hefty swallow. "Nguyen wasn't lying when she said she was preggers. I mean, it's barely into the embryonic stage but. . ."
"I know, I know," Catman replied with more than a bit of dread, the throaty sigh contributed by Scandal adding to the overall subdued atmosphere. "I'd rather not think about that right now." The former big-game hunter wrapped his right hand around his nearby glass of brandy before swirling the half-full glass around as if the amber liquid would provide him some clarity.
"Well, I know we may be a little loathe fer another circumstance," Lloyd said as he caught a familiar flash of red moving closer towards his back. "But it looks like we're about to have a visitor."
Though still wrapped up within their varied states of misery, Scandal and Thomas did manage to look up to see the statuesque, crimson-haired woman from the hallway moving towards them. The confidence blazing through the stranger's eyes prompted the two members of The Secret Six to share a somewhat worried, slightly intrigued glance as the outsider made their way towards them. Lloyd, on the other hand, tried his best not to laugh as Thomas appeared to be ready to scurry from the table in a manner much like his namesake out of fear that the newcomer was making her way towards him.
"Greetings. After witnessing you leaving my sights so quickly, I had grown worried that I wouldn't be able to make my introduction," the redhead began while extending a long, muscular arm, her unique charms now obviously locked upon a single, auburn-haired target. "My name is Kay Reynolds."
"Scandal Savage," came the dim, listless reply, the immortal shaking the woman's hand more out of reflex than from any desire to invoke any interest in a potential conversation. "I'm sorry. Forgive me for being rude but it has been a very long night and I'm not quite in the mood for a conversation."
As quick and blunt as the rejection had been, the stunning woman seemed to take it with a relaxed, almost amused air. "Very well," she relented. "Though I would certainly be interested in helping you find a way to relax, I can understand how one can occasionally need a moment's peace."
And, just like that, Kay had walked away. By the time Scandal had worked up the chutzpah to look back, any potential opportunity of catching a sight of the woman's gorgeous backside had been taken from her by the surrounding crowd.
"Ugh," Scandal mumbled while slumping her head into her folded arms as she momentarily wallowed in her own misery. "Well, I suppose I could take heart in the certainty that there isn't any possible way that this night could get any worse."
As one might have expected, an eerie, pronounced silence suddenly took over the already subdued environment circulating around the table for three. The hush was broken just seconds later as Lloyd dropped his fork onto his plate before burying his face into his hands, the clatter of silver upon glass sounding phenomenally sharp despite the fact that his thumbs were currently clamped over his ears. Thomas, on the other hand, chose to look at Scandal with wide open eyes with such tenacity that it made the former employee of Mao Tenryu want to hide under the table.
"And I can't believe I just said that."
BOOM!
The torrid screams of a good percentage of the partygoers were somehow blunted out by the sound of the explosions that followed the first one, the sprays of fire and smoke pouring from the kitchen little more than a portent of what was already going on. A frantic figure leapt from one of the narrower gaps that had formed in the wall, his normally awkward gait becoming even more unwieldy as he threw in a series of hops, leaps and bounds in order to pick up his pace. The sudden need of urgency was soon made clear as a variety of costumed murderers, nearly two dozen in number, soon emerged as they began to follow their current quarry with malicious abandon.
"The Society is among us, my comrades!" Ragdoll screamed as he bounded his way toward the three pained individuals standing up from their table. "To arms! To arms! AND SAVE THE JELLO!"
"Great," Lloyd mused. "After all this fun, I was looking forward to dying."
Misfits Confidential
Well, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that, after 11 years and about $50,000 of completely paid tuition, I have finally earned my master's degree. I have emerged from what was certainly a chaotic emerging adulthood and, through a great deal of trial, error, and effort, have managed to achieve one of the most significant dreams that I could ever hope to accomplish.
YESSSSSSSSS!
The bad news is that, well, now I have no real excuse to keep me from being a grown-up.
NOOOOOOOOO!
Next Chapter Preview
All right. So what was supposed to be a simple night on the town has turned into an all-out war between Lloyd, The Secret Six, and The Secret Society of Supervillains. Granted, that's pretty much another Saturday night for this gang but, still, it's got to be more than a little distressing for those involved.
Will Floyd Lawton be able to stop drinking long enough to lend his comrades a hand? Will Ragdoll be able to protect his precious gelatinous fruit products? Will Parademon be able to make certain that no one does, in fact, hurt the clown? Will Lloyd be able to maintain his sanity? Oh, and just what the hell are Bruce and Talia doing in that closet? Find out in the decidedly untidy conclusion to How to Meet New People: Seize the Day, Stupid! Until then, remember to say what you think and write what you feel!