[ He wouldn't say for sure, but he's comfortable assuming Oswald believes him. Or at least finds him plausible. Maybe not enough to trust, but there's no recoil when Bruce leans in, no questions to press the matter beyond what little Bruce has already given him. It helps that there's some sincerity in what he's saying. He never doubted Oswald's commitment. Despite everything that's come after, he didn't doubt for a single second that Oswald wanted to help Gotham.
It's just sometimes, Gotham has to be dragged into the light – kicking and screaming and leaving claw marks on the floor. Bruce knows that. Oswald did too.
The shame is that for all their similarities, their differences keep them at odds. Bruce hates that they couldn't meet somewhere in the middle. Hates that Oswald dresses his ambition up like its salvation. Hates that a man's desire for something better could put him on the wrong side of Arkham's walls. Could make him so diametrically opposed to what the Bat's mission that is shattered the foundation for an alliance before it could ever truly exist.
Must be the Gotham in them though. Divide and conquer. Keep them divided so there's never a united front to root out all the ugly parts of her.
Oswald reassures him that he could speak freely and for some that might seem like an invitation to babble endlessly about the most inane of topics and Bruce almost takes him up on it. He has a name in mind, and it would be an easy thing to weave it into the conversation. Let it slip like it's an accident. He makes a show of it, like he's holding something back – opening his mouth and closing it again. Then smiling and nodding when Oswald pats his arm. It's permission to walk away. The grin widens into something bright and sunny while he flexes a bit. ]
Can you tell? I've been going to the gym four days a week. Vanessa Stirling told me my arms felt flabby last summer and I haven't slept right since.
[ He turns to go, leaving his drink behind. Then pretending to remember it. When he turns to look at Oswald, he finally leans in again and says in a low voice ]
If you really mean that I can tell you anything, well I think you should know this. I hear Alberto Falcone is pushing Crocodile Tears.
[ Then he snags his drink, gives a friendly wave, and heads back to his friends. ]
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It's just sometimes, Gotham has to be dragged into the light – kicking and screaming and leaving claw marks on the floor. Bruce knows that. Oswald did too.
The shame is that for all their similarities, their differences keep them at odds. Bruce hates that they couldn't meet somewhere in the middle. Hates that Oswald dresses his ambition up like its salvation. Hates that a man's desire for something better could put him on the wrong side of Arkham's walls. Could make him so diametrically opposed to what the Bat's mission that is shattered the foundation for an alliance before it could ever truly exist.
Must be the Gotham in them though. Divide and conquer. Keep them divided so there's never a united front to root out all the ugly parts of her.
Oswald reassures him that he could speak freely and for some that might seem like an invitation to babble endlessly about the most inane of topics and Bruce almost takes him up on it. He has a name in mind, and it would be an easy thing to weave it into the conversation. Let it slip like it's an accident. He makes a show of it, like he's holding something back – opening his mouth and closing it again. Then smiling and nodding when Oswald pats his arm. It's permission to walk away. The grin widens into something bright and sunny while he flexes a bit. ]
Can you tell? I've been going to the gym four days a week. Vanessa Stirling told me my arms felt flabby last summer and I haven't slept right since.
[ He turns to go, leaving his drink behind. Then pretending to remember it. When he turns to look at Oswald, he finally leans in again and says in a low voice ]
If you really mean that I can tell you anything, well I think you should know this. I hear Alberto Falcone is pushing Crocodile Tears.
[ Then he snags his drink, gives a friendly wave, and heads back to his friends. ]