[identity profile] bat-daughter.livejournal.com
Two figures appear in the Batcave beneath Wayne Manor.  One should be very familiar to the occupants of this universe.  Clad in blue and purple, she's as beautiful as Selena Kyle with all the confidence of Bruce Wayne.  Helena Wayne, the Huntress, daughter of the Batman and Catwoman of Earth-Two. 

The other is a man approaching forty, just starting to gray, but in the fantastic shape that comes from a lifetime of exercise.  His costume is a combination reds, yellows, and green, bright colors that had followed him since childhood.  Dick Grayson, Robin, one-time partner of the late Batman and ex-Boy Wonder.  He's loosely holding a bag which contains a change of clothes for the two.

"You sure about this, Hel?"

She nods.  "I am, Dick.  I know she's married and all... but I worry about "Aunt" Brenda sometimes.  She's got a lot on her plate and a full house.  I'm sure she could use some company and cheering up."

He laughs, something that comes easily to the former sidekick.  "Bruce as a woman.  Scary thought."
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[identity profile] anotherbwayne.livejournal.com
Brenda opened her eyes and frowned at the living room ceiling, wondering why it looked so hazy. Scowling, she squeezed her eyes shut and then reopened them before listening to see where everyone was. She was feeling annoyed and more than a little concerned; she'd asked Alfred the day before to let Clark know that she wanted to speak to him, but the boy had never appeared.

And now she could hear Will playing video games in one of the dens, Clara telling him how to play it, and Alfred humming to himself as he puttered around somewhere nearby. But she still didn't hear Clark coming in response to her summons.

His Wayne side was sticking out, and it irritated the heck out of her.
[identity profile] flying-strong.livejournal.com
Tag [livejournal.com profile] lstsonofkrypton, Open to anyone else

Living in Wayne manor was...well, something he didn't expect to ever happen to him. Ever. Sure, as a kid one always fantasied about fighting with Batman and Superman (even though that was slightly more literal in his case, being from a superhero-family) but he never would have even begun to imagine that he would be sitting here, in his very own bedroom, eating a fat chocolate chip cookie against the window, looking out over the grounds in the afternoon sun. He leaned his forehead against the pane, thinking about back home.

Home. He missed them. Layla, especially. Everyone, yes, even Warren. Somehow the good-natured ribbing was missed once you didn't have it anymore. Now he was scared of the dog, Brenda's giant evil scary dog that didn't seem to like him very much, either. He could stand up against a supervillain, but that dog had him beat. It had only been about a week, but he wondered if his parents even knew he was missing. Not that they didn't care, but probably they were used to this whole alternate-universe skipping thing and probably even knew where he was. And maybe time was different. Maybe he'd only be gone a second in his world...or maybe a year. Urgh.

He tugged at his clothes, they were very preppy, dark, somber. He had a black vest over a white button up shirt with dark grey slacks. His hair was combed back and slicked back all nice and neat-like. Will missed Layla and her brightness, with her fantastic greens and yellows and every color under the sun. Jeez, was everything honestly really Gothic here or were they just kidding about it in the comics? Even the sun was slightly subdued and cool. 'We're all gonna look like vampires or zombies here...' he thought as he wondered if his summer tan was totally absorbed by now. The whole house was like...well, a museum or something. Or one of those places that were for dead people. It had that air about it. He really had the urge to go screaming at the top of his lungs down the hallway just to break the creepy silence. He wondered if he could find a stereo or boom box around this place so he could play nice loud music.

But still, this was probably one of the coolest things that had happened to him, besides getting his superpowers and all the crazy stuff that happened at school awhile back. He hoped he would get a chance to fight someone, and who knew? He might run into a Superman. He so wanted to talk to him, he had looked up to him probably just as much as...well, his dad and mom. And since his powers were of similar sort, perhaps he could have a few pointers or something.

Cookie finished, he dusted off the crumbs on his probably way too expensive slacks, still rather hungry, even though it was too early for dinner. He rather liked Alfred, he was the only person he could talk to but the old gentleman was busy a lot of the time and Will felt like he was probably one of those little annoying kids. The rather formidable Miss Brenda was still recuperating in the living room, and he was hesitant to go near her. Besides, there was the dog...He supposed he would like to talk to her, but he wasn't sure if he had gathered up the guts yet. She still reminded him of his principal. It wasn't like he had school right now (vacation time, yeah!) so he mostly amused himself, looking at the mysterious empty rooms and bedrooms, often trying to find a way to sneak into the legendary batcave. Still hadn't found it yet.

Ah well. These thoughts and more were on his mind as he left his room and went down the stairs, in search of a snack.
[identity profile] lstsonofkrypton.livejournal.com
Clark awoke with a jerk, arms hitting the sides of...something. Blearily, he opened his eyes. Water? Glass. A tank? What in the world? How had he gotten here? He heard a voice, and felt something over his mouth. A mask? It was forcing oxygen into his lungs.

Alright, he really wants to know what's going on. Only there's no way he can rightly ask.

He was left alone for a moment, but then hands heaved him out of the tank and lay him on something hard and cold. There was a flurry of movement; pokes and prods and a sharp pain on his stomach. But then something warm covered him and something soft was put under his head. He was left in quiet and darkness.

Shivering, he slowly moves to sit up, a ringing in his head. He was never this cold. He'd always been warm, if not overly so. Just part of his design. He still had no idea what was going on, but one thing was running through his head. A question actually.

Where was Brenda?

So with that single question in mind, he managed to get himself outside and into the light of day.

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Brenda Wayne-Gordon's Gotham

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