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[ Hello, Flux. Have one professional looking Bruce Wayne - suit and all. ]

Hello, everyone. If we haven't met yet, my name is Bruce Wayne. I've recently been employed at Weschester Enterprises on behalf of Mr. Weschester. Which is unfortunately why I'm having to reach out and contact you all about it.

Mr. Wechester has seen some increasing interest in the building, especially after it appeared to us in Flux. He's sending a formal request, through me, that the activity cease. He feels its interrupting business and frankly, rude. He's only asked me because I'm the only one on the Board that is not native to the area.

So... that puts me in the unique position to directly give his wishes to you. As well as... discuss what interest any of you might have in Wechester Enterprises.

[ He raises his eyebrows, being purposely pointed about that. Giving a hint to those who might be paying more than casual attention. ]

Bring your concerns to me and we'll see what we can work out.

[ private to Eugene Sims ]
Mr. Sims. We haven't met formally until now. You seem to have broken a window - if not several - of Wechester Enterprsies. I've been asked to look into the matter. Mind telling me what happened?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I think I can manage to keep a few things private from Mr. Weschester. Especially if they're concerns from the visiting population.

[ He gives her a smirk. Someone's caught on to what he's really doing. ]

[Anne just winks back at him. Sneaky sneaky, Mr. Wayne. Anne officially likes you.]

If you need someone nosy, hit me up. I have a background in journalism, so I'm not just good at asking questions. I'm good at knowing what questions to ask.

You'd need to be nosy without causing a scene. In my experiences, journalists have a hard time doing that.

Fortunately, I've been a staff editor for years. I'm out of practice being obnoxious.

In all seriousness, I can be nosy without causing a stir. I may not be the prettiest girl in the room, but humans seem to like what I have, so I use it. I'm not above flirting aggressively to hide the fact that I'm prying.

You have that all set up here?

"Humans." Implying...?

Here? Oh, no--I manage the photography studio. I'm a staff editor for Playboy back home. After I was Miss June, they offered me an internship. Worked my way up from there.

And I'm not implying. I'm saying. I'm not human. My people are cousins to werewolves, but we can't change form. 'Feral' is the best word to describe us.

Playboy. [ He feels like he should have guessed that. ]

So. You're unable to become a werewolf. [ The tone suggests he has a hard time putting the dots together. Give him something more, Anne. ]

No, I'm...[She trails off with a huff and a sheepish smile as she starts again.]

In my world, the supernatural is real--it's all completely underground, mind you, but this place is clearly not normal. Hundreds, maybe a thousand or more years ago, werewolves...evolved, or maybe devolved. That's what The Folk are--my people. We're ferals--think of us as animals trapped in human bodies. We have all the speed, strength, and keen senses of a predator, the same animal hungers...but we don't change form, and we're not really ruled by the moon.

We also have our own culture--most of us assimilate to live peacefully alongside humans, while some give in to their animal natures and live off the grid, as it were. My clans are two of the former: the one I was born into, and the one that adopted me when my family died.

Basically, I'm just like you...only I can take down a five point buck with my bare hands, and if I don't get the chance to do that at least every couple of months? I can get...well...cranky.

I'm guessing that means you're a real wolf in the sheets.

[ Oh god, he's dying inside at his own attempts of being funny to keep this persona going. Someone end his misery. Thank God that Alfred didn't hear this. ]

Wechester City is going to make you cranky then. I don't see many deer running around.

[You're getting a Look(tm), Bruce. Superficial slivers of this persona, Anne is not buying.]

There's no one here but just us chickens, as my grandfather likes to say. You don't have to pretend to be That Guy--no offense? But you try a little too hard.

[She lets out a huff and frowns, looking more visibly troubled--and irritated.]

And I'm well aware. If you think PMS is bad? Wait until a caged up feral starts snarling at you...hopefully, I can find a decent kickboxing class or something to blow off some steam. And, maybe later, a sparring partner that can handle me if I need to throw a real punch.

[ There is a casual shrug as he keeps that smile on his face. People might think there is more to Bruce Wayne--that doesn't mean they are right.

Though he makes a note to keep his distance if he's out at the night office. In case she can sniff him out. Literally. ]

Maybe because you don't know what my home is like. [ Which is the most he will say on that. For now. ]

Somehow, I think you might end up breaking any area you're in with kickboxing... boxing in general. Maybe a marathon is a better idea. [ A pause. ] And I need my ribs in peace. I'm in good health and shape, but, I'm not much of a fighter.

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