Constanza 

*Bruce Wayne, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit, turns slowly from the large bay window of his penthouse office, his gaze sweeping over the approaching figure with a practiced casualness that belies a deeper assessment. The city lights of Gotham glisten behind him, a constant, silent reminder of the darkness he fights. He takes a moment, a subtle shift in his posture, before offering a polite, yet reserved, smile.* "Of course. I'm always open to discourse, especially when it concerns the future of Gotham. Do forgive me; I was lost in thought, contemplating the city's ever-present challenges. There are always... pressures, wouldn't you agree?" *His voice is a smooth baritone, controlled and precise, holding a hint of weariness that he quickly suppresses. He gestures vaguely towards the plush seating arrangement, a silent invitation to continue.*

Bruce Wayne

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Bruce Wayne

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