"It was very nice to see you again, Miss Gordon."
Dick, the adopted son of Bruce Wayne, bowed slightly at the waist. Perfect poise and so much class that it would make anyone second guess themselves.
"It was nice speaking to you again as well, Mr. Grayson." Barbara curtsied with a very visible twinkle in her eye. Yeah, actually curtsy. Like they were in some sort of play or late period drama. Frankly, Albert found it all to be a bit too theatrical to even begin appearing natural.
The night had proceeded in a blur after greeting the young scion and with how 'small' the mansion was, it was expected that they would bump into the teen eventually. Once, a mere coincidence. Something that he wouldn't have even blinked at. But twice? Within the same hour? No, there was for sure something going on. And it really didn't help the fact that each time they did bump into each-other, the pair made sure to make it a spectacle. Drawing the attention of multiple interested parties in an increasingly theatrical manner.
If that wasn't enough, the pair would also go off to the side to talk privately while leaving him out to face the mix of glances being sent his way. Some gleeful, others pitying and more just observed with nothing more than gathering gossip to further entertain themselves.
It was honestly getting to a point where no one in that room believed their act was as coincidental as they tried to make it seem. The only thing saving him from being crowned with a green-hat in the eyes of these elites was the fact they kept their conversations brief, approximately five minutes and only ever spoke in public.
'Bruce really needs to put them through some acting lessons.' He didn't even have the skill and was heavily relying on stretching Disguise to see him through this. But even that was better than the act those two were putting on. 'I would have to be drunk not to see how obvious they're being.'
But that didn't really matter, now did it? How would an average teen react to his date getting so chummy with some random rich guy at a party they just met? Especially when they kept 'coincidentally' running into one another? It would play on insecurities and maybe even cause them to lash out in a cocktail of hormones.
So, he allowed that jealousy to course through his veins. Allowed that shame to slam into him and donned that chest-plate of anger to hide that soft, insecure part of 'himself'. Narrowing his eyes, he glared openly at the turned back of the scion, rationale thrown out the window in the face of perceived inadequacies.
It didn't take much to allow them to crash into his psyche.
The guy was richer. In better shape. More social and possessed a charm that most girls back home would've swooned over or written obsessively into a steamy romance novel involving billionaires, some BDSM, crime lords and maybe some form supernatural creature like a vampire or werewolf.
With each point, he allowed his face to grow darker and darker. Eyebrows scrunched together, lips pursed into a harsh line. He could feel the crowd's 'circumspect' glances, feel their open enjoyment. They were getting front row seats to the forbidden and dreaded love triangle.
And if his role were to assigned, he would for sure be on the losing side.
Like a second skin, Disguise shifted it's scales around him. Weaving a costume under the cold and calculating gaze of Psychology perched atop his shoulder until even it would need to a second glance to pierce through the camouflage.
"Hey." He flinched openly at her suddenly touch, biting his lip to avoid lashing out in such a public event. Without looking at the red head fully, he simply glanced at her from the corner of his eye. Shutting down emotionally, just like a scorned teen would do in a situation like this. Her face held concern and maybe even a few hints of confusion. Which was probably warranted, the night must've been going quite well from her perspective until his sudden mood shift. Hell, it was probably even starting to feel like an actual date. She dropped her voice and took not to subtle step closer. "What's wrong?"
"…." Retreating a step to keep the distance between them, the teen almost hissed out a reply. "I want to go home."
True panic flickered through her eyes, it seemed her true goals hadn't yet been achieved and was scrambling.
"Why, I thought we were having a great time?" Barbara might've had the dogged relentless determination to unravel a mystery, might've been perceptive enough to sniff out a bold lie and had enough confidence to mingle with complete strangers without flinching. But, it was very clear that she was inexperience in the whole dating scene.
She'd been thrown off and that methodical mind was frayed.
"It doesn't matter." Albert fell deeper in that costume, scales growing a hint thicker as he bit back with the ferocity of stilted date. There was a method to his madness, a particular note he wanted to be added to their developing profile on him. Dismissive-avoidant attachment. Someone with this would have difficulty forming close relationships due to a fear of intimacy and a very common trait among those with the attachment style was pushing away others before they could even begin to grow too close. "If you won't take me home, I'll call a cab instead and you can stay here with your new boyfriend."
"Wait!" It seemed not even she could handle the sudden shift, not like he could really blame her. In most forms of media, Barbara only really saw Dick as a younger sibling, at-least early on as their time as Bruce's apprentices. And from their interactions so far, it was clear there was no flirting involved. From his perspective, it was like watching two siblings trying to one-up each other in a some hidden game. But for anyone who didn't the have that little bit of foreknowledge, it would appear like a form of courtship. "Boyfriend? Who? Wait, I'm so confused right now! What's wrong?"
The red head was truly discombobulated, her face switching from bewilderment, panic and appeared a little bit green at times.
Still feeling the ever eager watchers, who even those that were all too eager to make the acquaintance with her stopped in their steps and simply soaked everything in. He was sure if this soiree had popcorn, every last one of them would be eating it by the fist full.
"Let's go somewhere else." Her green eyes sharpened momentarily, taking in their growing observers. Arm encircling his once more, she began to drag them somewhere with a much lower population. Whether or not the looky-loos would follow after, was up for debate but decorum would force them to at least come up with an adequate excuse. He wiggled in that iron grip and even opened his mouth to cause an even bigger scene. Someone that stilted wouldn't give a damn about how public their argument was being. Practically hissing, she silenced him with a murmur. "We will go somewhere else that doesn't have a bunch of rich assholes nearly falling over themselves in trying to listen in, to straighten this out."
'But lady, I want a crowd.' It would be better for Albert if he had his blow up in-front of a lot of people. Knowing there was no way she was going to take him home early, the double narrative would wonders for his plans going forward. For the dossier the Bat Family was constructing and to help get him in on a large number of groups that hadn't even acknowledged him due to his lower status. Pity was a very powerful tool. 'But this could work too.'
So, instead of dragging his feet or trying to wriggle out of her grip, he kept silent. Face still scrunched up in a scowl, they retreated down the hall. Passing a multitude of open doors until somewhere private came up. It was a small room, more a study than anything else. With a pair of cushioned chairs facing an unlit fireplace. A bookshelf filling one wall and a pair of tightly closed french windows. And at their feet, a lush carpet did much to somewhat absorb the gentle music coming in low and faded.
"What's your problem?!" Barbara didn't wait a single moment to turn on him, her face possessing both confusion and annoyance. "What in the world could've possessed you to think acting out like that was a good idea?!"
"I don't know," Falling into that role, the scales grew. Embedding themselves deeper into his skin. He crossed his arms as accusation began to fill his voice. "How else do you expect me to react when I see my date flirting very openly with some lucky twerp?"
"What the hell? Flirting?!"
"Oh please." He rolled his eyes. "Don't try to pretend you didn't know what you were doing! I'm not blind and I sure as know that I'm not the only one who saw that! You guys even looked like you were going to kiss! What was it, huh? Couldn't resist the 'mystique' of him being a Wayne?"
"I-we-uh-hm!" Now her face was growing red, maybe from embarrassment or frustration. But really, there wasn't a whole lot she could say in response without letting the cat out of the bag. Admitting to having an already established relationship with Dick would only bring up more questions as to how they even got in contact with each other. And also proving that for whatever reason, they'd decided to showboat their meeting in a theatrical manner, bringing up more strands to hound on. "It's not like that! I don't see him like that! Besides, what right do you to dictate who or how I talk to?! Who do you think you are?"
'Looks like she's getting her footing back, let's change that.'
"Oh really?" The teen visibly steamed but internally, he prepared himself. Loosening his shoulders, widening his stance a hair and subtlety turning his cheek to provide a nice, juicy target. She might not see Dick in a romantic way, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to be defensive of him. Like an older sibling. Turning his voice up a pitch, he spoke in a very provocative manner. "Then I must've been mistaken, you weren't essentially drooling on all over him like a dog in heat. You weren't practically throwing yourself at him or making extra sure he got a good couple looks down your dress. What? You wanted to give him a peak at what was in store for later? Sneak off in hopes of getting knocked up just to get a chance to snap a sliver of all those billions?"
"Is that how you see me?" Her face grew darker, green eyes dropping a few degrees. And she made their obvious height difference to practically loom over him. Voice as frosty as freshly fallen snow. "An opportunistic, gold digging slut? Really?! I don't know what crawled up your ass to be acting like this, but if I knew you were fucking insane I wouldn't have even brought you tonight!"
"Maybe you're right." He didn't back down in the slightest, stepping forward into her personal space and until they practically nose to nose. "But that doesn't change the fact that you've been flirting with Dick fucking Grayson to the point where I wouldn't even be surprised if you two 'disappear' tonight!"
For a brief moment, a shocked expression sped across her face. And smelling blood in the water, he cruelly struck out with a knife to the gut.
Figuratively, of course.
"What?" He nearly snarled, voice dripping with vindication and scorn. "You thought you were being so secretive that no one wouldn't know what you two had planned for the night? What? Were you going to excuse yourself to the bathroom and vanish for half an hour? Did you expect me to stand guard while you got your name written down in the Wayne's will? What would your fath-"
His neck suddenly snapped to the side, a blazing heat spreading across his left cheek. Stars momentarily circled, world growing darker. The reverberating sound of palm striking out against flesh was loud in this quiet part of the wing. And from the soft gasps he could hear from outside, their observers had gotten quite the eyeful.
Turning back slowly, he allowed that swell of genuine anger bubble up to the surface. All the stress from trying to be careful around these people, to this lady pushing and pushing and finally from actually being struck. Logically, he could admit that it was a well deserved slap. She'd restrained herself when he essential called her a whore and even kept a hold of her self control amiably when insults were being thrown around. He stepped over a line and there were bound to be consequences for such a thing.
But just because he could understand and actively planned for it, that didn't change the fact one needed to possess a certain kink to actively enjoy being slapped in the face.
'Do I taste blood?' Running his tongue along the seems, a familiar and pungent taste of iron made itself known. Frankly, he was just glad that known of his teeth were loose. Otherwise, he might've forgotten himself and escalated things further. Good thing to, if her slaps were that painful he didn't even want to imagine what a punch from the red head would feel like. 'I think it's going to bruise.'
"Keep MY dad out of this." Barbara spoke low and menacingly, each word promising a world of pain he knew all too well she could one-hundred percent accomplish. Face as crimson as her locks, she looked like there were invisible arms holding her back from taking things further. "I don't know whatever problems you have and honestly, I don't give a damn anymore. I've already spent all night taking verbal jabs without being able to retaliate, forced to smile in the face of their abuse but you do not benefit from the same luxury that they have. You and the rest of the people can think whatever they want. I know what I was doing and that's all that matters. I will not have such a disgusting creature in my DAD's car. You can find your own way home. Hope your tantrum was fucking worth it."
With that, the red head spun on her heel and stalked out of the room. From the rapid but light footsteps, their watchers had seen the fuming girl and got the hell out of dodge.
Instead of following or saying anything to her retreating back, the teen stepped around to the front of one of the twin chairs before collapsing into it heavily. Hand reaching up to rub gently at the pipping hot flesh. Anger vanishing just as quickly as it appeared, eyes staring off into space as he waited. It wouldn't take long for this drama to spread to every attendee there. And due to the game of telephone, the story would most assuredly twist into something more risque and scandalous.
***
"You're Albert Nelson, right?" A voice spoke up and he 'jumped' in his cushioned chair. The man's heavy footsteps made it impossible to sneak anywhere besides maybe behind a rampaging bull. Whirling his head around, Albert saw a young man looking to be around twenty with a pudgy build and small pig like eyes. Instead of replying, the teen simply nodded. "Good, come with me. The boss wants to speak to you."
"Whose your boss?" It was a habit, to delve deeper into mysteries but in the situation like this, it really wasn't advised. His shield was gone now. The man's face turned up in derision, a threat gleaming in those inhuman eyes. Probably not use to anyone beneath him questioning a direct command. There wouldn't violence, he was simply too soft for something like that. But the man would make it seemed like it was on the table. The whole back and forth simply wouldn't be worth it, sitting there for a half an hour as he waited for the pain to dull had completely sapped him of his willingness to stay much longer. "Never-mind, lead the way."
The man harrumphed and quickly exited the room with Albert on his heels. Coming down the hallway, he quickly noticed the sudden glances being sent his way. Some pitying, some scornful, others mocking and most just interested. A rather welcoming change when before his existence had been mostly ignored. That was good but it was a shame that it needed to be for such a negative reason.
He even got a few nods of acknowledgment before they went back to their own discussions. With that, the pair turned through a few more open rooms where the scene repeated a multitude of times before they went down a nearly identical hallways as all the others until his guide stopped before a plain door. From the series of other doors in that wing, there wasn't much of a difference.
The young man knocked on the door in a rapid beat, rhythmic. Once, pause, thrice, pause, twice before slapping the surface hard enough to rattle the frame. A few seconds passed awkwardly before the door opened a hair. A lone eye looked at them, roving over them.
"Password."
The voice was deep, reverberating through their chest. And from how high up the eye was, it was presumed that this person was massive.
"...Please don't make me do it." His guide pleaded, nearly whispering to the guard. "I literally just left because the boss told me get him…."
"Password."
It was hard to tell, but there was a promise of violence in that singular word. And unlike the pudgy man, this guard was completely able and willing to act on that promise.
"….Oink, oink."
"Do the whole thing."
"Oink, oink. I'm a porky pig, lay me on my back and get bacon my belly."
"Do the dance too."
The guard sounded all too amused right about then and the portly youth looked red enough that he looked ready to explode. Either from embarrassment or anger. Albert turned away from the sight, there was no joy in seeing someone debase themselves like that. Reminding him an awfully lot of school ground bullies picking on the out of shape kid. It wasn't funny nor did he see the need to entertain such a person. They were adults, it was time for the guard to act like it.
"Stop messing with Harold and let him in."
A commanding voice broke through the disgusting display, their tone brooking no argument. And at that command, he saw Harold's shoulders slump in relief. That hovering eye flashed them one last nasty look before the door opened fully. And standing in the doorway was an absolute giant of a man. Standing nearly tall enough to brush his short brown hair against the door frame, he nearly completely took up all the room. Using his own body to block their way forward. His suit straining at bulging flesh. Grease spattered rolls spilling over his collar, one meaty fist clutching what looked to be a half eaten triple patty burger of sorts.
'Pot meet kettle.'
There had to be a reason why the large man took such perverse joy in pointing out his compatriot's weight, the guy was insecure and childish. A true bully that never grew up past the fifth grade. But had probably avoided recourse simply due to his giant like stature.
Moving to the just wide enough, the man waited for them to pass. Those small eyes glaring down at them, put most of that attention was solely on his usual prey.
Sliding past him, the smell of smoke was the first thing to hit his nose. A heavy, thick fog of cigarette smoke filled the room. Making his lungs squeeze and eyes water. The room itself was relatively small, possessing no windows and seeming to be a sort of game room. As in the middle, nine men sat around a poker table. Each either openly drinking an amber liquid or puffing on thick cigars. A series of chips laid before each of them, their eyes darting around anxiously as they tried to feel each other out.
Albert didn't know a lot about poker, but what he did know was this: the dealer always won. And if the boisterous man at the head of the table was anything, he was a winner. Tall and athletic, possessing slicked back blonde hair that had a few loose strands that he did not care in the slightest to take care of. A thick, square jaw that held a perpetual smirk and tanned skinned. Whether it was artificial or not, it wasn't clear.
The head honcho wore a dark crimson suit, instantly standing in stark contrast to the constant sea of black and grey. All in all, the guy looked more like a mob boss than some spoiled heir. If he was wearing golden rings embedded with diamonds and rubies, it would complete the image.
"You brought him? Good." The man nodded, pleased. "Thank you Harold, take a seat. You're a few hands behind but you know these guys are terrible."
"Of course, boss."
Harold, took the last seat. Leaving their guest to stand awkwardly to the side.
"One moment," The boss acknowledged him with a mocking smirk. "One of these guys are about to bust and you'll take their seat. Reveal them."
At once, each of the card players showed their hand. Some looking confident, smug, pissed or in one person's case, absolutely listless. Without further a do, that man stood with shoulders slumped without saying a word and retreated under the jeering from his fellow players.
"I don't how to play." Albert warned, sliding into the newly vacated seat. Instantly feeling the moisture soak through. It seemed, that guy had been sweating bullets during that entire game. At least near the end. "And I don't have anything to wager."
"Sorry pipsqueak, but you're not here to play." The mob boss wannabe laughed and his gang of cronies followed a moment later. Their looks mocking as the accepted new hands from a man that was probably stacking the deck. "But let me introduce myself. My name is Patrick Moore, of Moore Constructions."
"My name is Albert Nelson, it is nice to meet you."
It was strange, this Patrick didn't possess the characteristic speech pattern that most of the scions had. Frankly, he sounded more like someone from Downtown.
"I'll cut to the chase." Patrick didn't look too interested in exchanging small talk, an oddity to be sure. "I've been hearin down the grapevine that you've gotten yourself into relationship problems...of the cuck variety if I have to be specific."
The table grew deathly still at his words, unlike the wall of jeers he kinda expected to be sent his way. Each of the participants only looked at their boss with some levels of discomfort evident on their face.
"I wouldn't call myself that…" While in his last life, the internet had exposed a lot of people who were really into the idea of watching their partners have sex that didn't mean he was interested in it. And he sure as hell wasn't going to slapped with that label. "We weren't actually a couple, this was just a date."
"Tomato – Tomaato." The man waved his hand dismissively. "Whatever floats your boat man. You see, when I heard about your situation I just knew I needed to talk to you. We're kindred spirits you and I."
"Really?"
"Don't look so surprised!" Patrick laughed darkly. "When you get older, you'll realize anyone can get cucked. It doesn't matter how attractive you are, how much money you have or how much love and attention you poor into someone. There will always be something found lacking, but that's just women in a nut shell. Always looking for something better."
Instead of responding, Albert only smiled tightly.
'I swear, I'm gone if this guy tries to sell me an online course.'
"And if you think she's not right now getting plowed by that circus freak, then I'm gonna burst your bubble." It wasn't clear if the man was being purposefully vulgar just to try and get a rise out of him but with that giant of pile of fat eyeing him up, staying silent was the better option. "There's a known rumor among these folks here. They say Bruce Wayne, loves involved women. It doesn't matter if their girlfriends, fiancees or wives. He will try and sleep with them. Isn't that right, boy?"
"I hear he pays off the husbands."
"I heard some of them are actually into it, wanting to hold the camera or something."
One by one, the participants added their own bits to the tale. And whether or it was true, he didn't know but it did sound a lot like Bruce would do. Fitting his MO.
"And with that Grayson being raised by that man," The man shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if he picked up on that particular interest as well. But my point is this, your girl is no longer 'your' girl. She's his...at least for the night."
"But that's we're kindred spirits, you and I. I'm not just mocking you...maybe I am a bit but I'm just dishing out what I usually get. At first, I was going to bring you in here see what your deal is before you on your way...but then I heard something else rather interesting. You're a private investigator, right."
"Unofficially but yes."
Without an actual license, there was no way he was going to get his hands on any active police cases. For now, he was stuck with anything people would come to him about.
"Right, right. Unofficially, freelance, whatever you want to call it. So, I had a particular idea. You can prove your stuff, while I can get some peace of mind. So here's what I want you to do. I have a fiancee here, been engaged for about a year now but I feel like she's not in it one-hundred percent. Maybe it because it's arranged or the fact that I'm from 'new money' and 'uncultured' as she puts it. But whatever reason, I think she's cheating on me and it's humiliating. So much so, it makes me want to break something!"
And he did, with a visible vein bulging on his forehead Patrick gripped a near beer bottle and smashed it against the nearby wall without breaking eye contact. It looked fake, rehearsed, theatrical. As those black eyes were as still as a pond.
"So here's what I want you to do." The man continued as if nothing happened, ignoring how visibly uncomfortable his lackeys looked in that moment. "She's here at this party but I've only seen her three times since I've arrived. I want you to go out there and find her. If she is engaged, I want you to take a picture for me. Oh wait, before I forget. You lot, put your phones on the table."
The people around them looked at each-other uneasily, alarm and unwillingness clear across their features. But out of the everyone there, Harold was the first to put his phone on the table. He, at-least looked unbothered by the command. With that, the floodgates opened. Peer pressure was truly a powerful tool.
Nodding, the boss continued.
"All these fuckers essentially grew up together." He said as way of explaining. "That and their families are small fish in comparison to hers', so it's likely they would've tried to warn her but we can't have that, can we? I'll tell you what, you have half an hour to find her. If you succeed, I will personally take ten of your little cards and hand them out to my associates but fail? And I'll make sure you'll never be able to come back to one of these events again...and who knows, maybe the city will find your little shop inadequate for living and foreclose that entire street."
It was a clear threat. A naked blade pressed firmly to his neck. The task would be difficult. As simply running from one end of the mansion to another and back would take about thirty minutes. And with the number of rooms this place had, trying to find one person in all this would be nearly impossible. A trap, that's what this was. Just some petty man wanting to flex his power after their ego got bruised.
[Case Opened: Green Hatter
Description: Who would've thought trying to tangle with the elite as a gutter rat would be a bad idea? Now, your new client has come to you in his greatest time of need! He has reasons to question his fiancee's loyalty and wishes for you to find her in this maze of a mansion. Peel back the curtain and reveal her deeds to the light!
Requirements: Find Patrick's fiancee and capture proof of her infidelity!
Difficulty: F
Rewards: 1 IP]
[Would you like to take on this case?]
[Yes/No]
"Deposit please."
Albert didn't enjoy being strong-armed like this. Both by the system and by some asshole with too much money and power than he knew what to do with. There was no reason to believe the guy wouldn't just go through with his threat even if the teen decided to opt out for their little game. Maybe it was karma, but he made his bed and now he needed to sleep in it. So, with a bitter heart he held out his gloved hand.
'You're not the system.' He thought grimly. 'You're well within my reach.'
There would be a reckoning.