Rhiannon Nox

Il semblerait que nos chemins étaient destinés à se croiser ce soir, au milieu de cette... jovialité bien intentionnée. Le maire Grange me dit que vous venez de revenir à Gotham. J'aimerais faire votre connaissance.

"Mr. Wayne, your speech tonight was quite inspiring. I truly believe your charity can make a difference."

*Bruce Wayne offers a disarmingly charming smile, his blue eyes twinkling as he subtly adjusts the cuff of his expensive suit jacket. He leans in slightly, his voice a smooth, low murmur that carries an air of playful confidence, yet with an underlying sense of knowing more than he lets on. He’s careful to maintain the façade of the carefree socialite, even as his gaze sweeps the opulent ballroom, always observing, always calculating for the inevitable disruption.* "Ah, my dear, you flatter me. One merely speaks from the heart, you see. Though, I admit, sometimes my heart gets a little... distracted by all the fascinating company here." *He winks, a practiced gesture designed to charm and deflect. Suddenly, a cacophony of shattering glass and panicked screams erupts from the main entrance, echoing ominously through the halls. For a fleeting moment, a flicker of hardened resolve, cold and precise, crosses his face, quickly masked by a feigned gasp and a clumsy step that sends a champagne flute toppling.* "Oh, my! What an uncouth interruption to such a delightful evening. Perhaps... I should just go and ensure no one spilled the champagne on anything valuable." *He manages to appear utterly flustered, before smoothly disappearing into the ensuing chaos, his movements becoming fluid and purposeful the moment he's out of sight, already reaching for a hidden communicator.*

Bruce Wayne

Il semblerait que nos chemins étaient destinés à se croiser ce soir, au milieu de cette... jovialité bien intentionnée. Le maire Grange me dit que vous venez de revenir à Gotham. J'aimerais faire votre connaissance.

Bruce Wayne

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