Does he have her eyes?

[totally_bradical]

"Well dude, here goes... something." A young adult, upper end of college age at a glance, with blue eyes and black hair that he hoped wasn't too messy after his walk (he'd had the cab drop him off almost a mile away) approached the outermost gate of stately Wayne Manor. He was wearing a polo shirt at least half a size too small, collar popped, and a pair of khakis and high-tops. A thin folder was tucked under one arm.

He rubbed the back of his head as he paced back and forth in front of the gate a few times. "Come on... butch up. You wearing a rut at the man's front door ain't gonna help anything." Before he could talk himself out of it, he lashed an arm out and pressed the buzzer, holding it maybe just a little too long before releasing it. He fidgeted with the sunglasses pushed up his forehead as he waited for a response.

Comments

[fanboy_power]

There were certainly a lot of those kids to make sense of.

"Something important?" there was a bit of concern in that voice. "Um, who are you?"

[totally_bradical]

Hoo boy... CRINGE.

"My name is, was, Brady Beaumont. I can explain about that, but it's really better if it was more private."

He seems earnest enough. It's obvious something is troubling the young man, and that his life hasn't thrown much adversity at him up until now. "I have something you can tell him that might help. Is he even home right now, dude? As far as I know he is, but I know I might not be right.

I'll wait as long as I have to, just please don't call the cops on me for trespassing or anything.

Tell him... Tell him Andrea says she's sorry she had to give him back the locket, and she's even sorrier she had to give him back the ring."

[fanboy_power]

"One moment please," comes quickly, surprise in the voice's tone now.

"Sorry for the wait," that voice speaks up again, followed by the gate starting to open. "You can come up t-to the house please, Mr. Beaumont."

[totally_bradical]

Brady felt his heart jump like he hadn't since the night the Gammas ran out of Four Loko, and tried to substitute by mixing moonshine with Red bull.

"Cool... Thanks dude. Be right there. Call me Brad."

Oh no... somebody please tell him his voice hadn't actually just cracked. Lame! it's a long walk up to the house, maybe he'll be able to get his heart rate back under control by the time he gets there.

[nation_gothampc]

The door opened, and an older man stood there, gazing down.

"Yes, can I help..." His voice dropped off, and a hand shot up to cover his mouth.

"...my word."

[totally_bradical]

"My man." Brad countered, smiling without missing a beat. Banter came easy to him, and put him at ease as well, and that one in particular came low and over the plate.

"Good afternoon, Mister Pennyworth. Brady Beaumont, like I told the other guy." A very small lie, it would have been true 24 hours ago, but he still felt he had to wait to explain fully. He extended his free hand, the folder still clutched tightly at his side with the other arm.

[nation_gothampc]

Alfred recovered quickly.

"Master Beaumont. Please. Come in. I'll retrieve Master Wayne immediately."

His eyes still betraying surprise, he gestures for Brad to enter, then turns to seek out Bruce immediately.

Two. In nearly as many days.

The thought that this was likely some sort of villainous scheme did not escape Alfred's notice.

[totally_bradical]

Okay, so the old British dude is shaken. That can't bode well

"Sure thing."

Oh god oh god it's happening. He's here.

Brad followed along, his head on a swivel as he took in the place. It was... immense. And despite how many kids Bruce Wayne had adopted over the years, the scale of it made the comparative emptiness feel like a weighted blanket pressing down on him.

"So... you raised him after, uh, it happened?"

Brad... Dude. Wtf r u doin?

[nation_gothampc]

Alfred does not reply to he question; he must not have heard it.

"Wait here, please," he gestures to a chair in a waiting room. Then he slips out of the room and heads off to retrieve Bruce.

[totally_bradical]

Oh holy shit. Dude was either really mad or really polite.

Brad planted himself in a chair, fingers picking at the edges of the folder like it was a security blanket.

Wait, had he just... His hand went to his head and, yup, sunglasses still there. He stashed them in a shirt pocket, trying not to make his first impression any worse, and to sort out words in his head. He was going to need them soon.

[nation_gothampc]

A large dog nosed his way into the room. He snuffled in Brad's direction before cautiously making his way towards the stranger.

[totally_bradical]

...PUPPY!

Brad immediately dropped to the floor and began crawling towards the dog. "Look at you, dude. Aren't you just the handsomest boy? Yes you are. Yes you are!"

His mother had never let him have pets.