Someone was in Bruce Wayne’s office, and there was no graceful way to avoid them without making it obvious that he knew they were in there. There was a smell in the air like mulch and roses.
He had no frame of reference for what would constitute a normal amount of things to notice, and so chose to err on the side of oblivious moron.
If there’d been a smell like marzipan dipped in bleach, he might have chosen differently.
“Heya, Mister Wayne,” Harley Quinn greeted, sitting on his desk. She waved as much with her feet as her hands. He closed the door behind him.
Bruce considered his response. Hopefully his momentary indecision with regard to his facial expression could pass for surprise, or confusion, or fear. “Hello, Dr. Quinzel.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m not with Jay no more.”
“She’s with me,” Poison Ivy said.
“Hello, Dr. Isley.”
“I really prefer Ivy.”
“Dr. Ivy,” he corrected.
“Doncha love the way he says doctor?” Harley asked Ivy.
“Charming,” Ivy said. She did not sound charmed.
“I told her we oughta come talk to ya,” Harley explained, “on account of you’re a real nice guy an’ all.”
“Thank you?”
“I was just going to kill you,” Ivy added.
“Thank you. For not doing that.”
“Isn’t he just like a puppy?” Harley asked, pressing her hands to her cheeks.
Seeing John Mulaney do his ‘Robot Test’ bit has given me a strong desire to see him play a live action Riddler.
But not like, as any character other than John Mulaney? Like, let’s make a John Mulaney version of Edward Nigma. Just this socially awkward disaster man who somehow becomes a supervillain because of a misunderstanding he couldn’t correct without ‘seeming rude’. And now supposedly he’s committed to killing Batman but he doesn’t actually want to be the cause of a man’s death so he just obfuscates things with ‘clues’ and ‘riddles’ and ‘battles of wits’ until Batman inevitably defeats him and he’s just like ‘oh thank god please don’t hit me’.
Batman’s like ‘you need help Nigma’ and he’s just like ‘yeah that’s fair, I should probably look into seeing somebody at this point, I became a supervillain because of social anxiety and that might just be a red flag you know?’
“Hey, Batman, think you’ve seen everything, huh? Well, figure out how to deal with this! You know Gotham General Hospital? Yeah? Well you’ll never guess what I let loose in there!”
“Riddle me this, what has four hooves and presents a massive health and safety violation?”
jason todd, who grew up in poverty, would absolutely Destroy bruce over tipping. Because for a lot of minimum wage workers, it’s their only source of income! so when Bruce tries to tip a waitress 20$ on a coffee order? think again bitch, make it 50$.
bruce: *tries to tip a waitress 100$ on a 15$ meal
jason: oh so youre stingy now, huh? gonna pay in pocket change next time? there are no ethical billionaires under late capitalism.
bruce, adding another hundred: jason please people are staring
jason: you stingy ass bitch you think youre better than everyone dont you.. you fuckin batbastard
bruce after tipping 1000$ @the dunkin donuts drive thru: pleazz jason theres people behin
jason finds out that B only left a $50 tip and makes him pay the waiter’s rent
jason: the french revolution had the right idea when they beheaded all the rich bitches
bruce, frantically calculating a 600% tip: please son we’ve talked about this
“22 year old puts on bat costume to punch criminals, has no powers” is hard enough to wrap your head around but throw in “24 year old adopts 12 year old who also punches criminals, has no powers” and that is not something that would ever occur to anyone
like OBVIOUSLY batman must be an older man who knows what he’s doing, and not just some traumatized 20-something accidentally collecting traumatized children
haha wow referring to bruce wayne as a 20-something really puts things in perspective. batman: probably actually younger than joey from friends.
i am enjoying how completely horrified everyone is by this thought
to elaborate on my preferred timeline it goes:
orphaned at 12 (consistent with how his ptsd manifests)
tested out of high school and accepted into yale at 16 (because he is an overachieving type a motherfucker who channels his survivor’s guilt into being The Best)
spends six years at yale getting a jd/mba and using all his free time to travel the world and learn punches
ready to take over the family biz at 22
“hello alfred i am back from yale here are all of my fancy degrees ps i’m going to dress like a bat now good luck talking me out of it i’m technically a lawyer now lol”
TWENTY-TWO YEAR OLD BATMAN. TWENTY-THREE YEAR OLD BATMAN. GOING IT ALONE. IT’S JUST HIM.
this is probably when he is most nolan-esque because have you ever met a man in his early twenties who thinks it’s his job to save the world
they’re the fucking worst
TWENTY-FOUR YEAR OLD BATMAN MEETS A TWELVE YEAR OLD WHO JUST WATCHED HIS PARENTS DIE
twelve year old mistakenly assumes someone who is 24 is a grownup, no one corrects him
the fact that either of them survive is a miracle even before you take the night job into account, thank god for alfred or they would probably get scurvy
i told you that just so you would understand how i have justified it when i tell you that this makes Batman during his first year with Robin younger than:
Joey in season one of Friends
Everyone in season one of Friends
Jake Peralta in Brooklyn 99
Uncle Jesse from Full House
This guy:
Everything makes sense now.
I always knew Bruce was in his mid 20′s when he took in Dick, but it only now occurred to me while reading this just what that would mean.
it’s really wild to see how batman has evolved over time as a consequence of writers wanting to change everything while also changing nothing because any comic that lives that long is a shambling stitched-together corpse
early batman is a swashbuckler and he’s having a good-ass time beating up these bad guys, because he existed in the context of organized crime being a big fucking problem. they were coming out of the 1930s. that’s the era of al capone, you know? john dillinger only died five years ago and he was a fucking celebrity. and batman shows up to be like YOU KNOW WHAT’S COOLER THAN SHOOTING PEOPLE AND BRIBING GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS? BEING BATMAN.
early batman could not have been more clearly edutainment, pulpy enough to make kids feel like they were reading That Good Shit but always with a really obvious message (the message was DON’T DO A CRIME). he fights a lot of giants because having to protect yourself from people twice your size is very #relatable to children.
when he adopts robin it’s very clearly to give kids a character to relate to more strongly than they can bruce wayne–FIGHTING CRIMES ISN’T JUST FOR RICH MEN, IT’S ALSO FOR COOL KIDS LIKE YOU. see how cool robin is, kicking the shit out of these dudes? don’t you wanna be cool, like robin? he’s from the circus, that thing you wanted to run away to because that’s a viable life choice in this era!
bruce wayne was rich but his whole cover was that rich people are fucking useless. a man who inherited money? a fucking useless, lazy shit, no question. this was just accepted by everyone, that obviously an heir would never be suspected of doing anything that might take effort. the difference in attitude on a fundamental level toward the idle rich is staggering.
his wealth is also MONUMENTALLY downplayed, in the same way you see in old movies. they deliberately did not film the philadelphia story in an actual mansion because they didn’t think anyone would believe that the rich got to live like that. so bruce wayne ends up looking like he lives in a tract home in a suburb. “is this how rich people live? yeah, sure, probably. who cares, let’s fight crimes.”
they only introduce a backstory after the comic has been going for a while, because at first it’s like? why would he need a reason to fight crime? it’s fun? but i guess they figured they had to create SOME reason for bruce wayne to not be completely useless, as all rich men are. why is bruce wayne the only rich man capable of doing cool shit? because his parents died, that’s why. check out robin kicking this dude in the head. fucking sweet, right?
there’s a whole storyline where batman fights a whole fucking town because it’s corrupt and the cops are corrupt and THE WHOLE DAMN SYSTEM IS CORRUPT so he’s gonna FIGHT THE WHOLE DAMN SYSTEM IF HE HAS TO, FUCK YOU AND FUCK YOUR COCAINE.
then the comics code happens and fucks everything. batman can’t fight, like, systemic corruption and dudes with tommy guns anymore. all the crimes get CARTOONY AS SHIT. the joker isn’t just a murderous jewel thief with a weird face, he’s a fucking clown. he’s a weird clown man committing clown crimes. puns everywhere. suddenly batman is fighting Supervillains, and they’re all insane. but they aren’t, really? they are a cartoon’s idea of insanity, like a wolf in a straitjacket getting hit on the head with a mallet. when a character is insane what that actually means is they’re wacky, they do weird shit, they have no meaningful motivation and do crimes for no reason because the alternative is having them commit real crimes for good reasons and that’s not good for the kiddos. the fact that batman changed so much after the code is fucking WILD because, remember, it was ALWAYS for the kids. it was BLATANTLY for the kids. the code still managed to fuck it just through the culture shift it created.
then later there’s this shift, again, away from the code and away from kids entirely. late seventies, i think? fuck if i know, i don’t know shit about damn. suddenly they want to be more GRITTY and REAL and DARK. they want REAL CRIME. batman is PUNCHING RAPISTS IN ALLEYS. but this isn’t the era of dillinger anymore. as a society, collectively, we understand more about crime and the societal forces that drive people to crime and so on. there are a lot of alley rapists in this era of comics tbh and this is probably why. rapists always deserve to get punched regardless of class struggle. also at this point we understand more about violence, and people who are violent, who commit acts of violence and solve problems with violence and enjoy being violent. a rich guy having a blast kicking a guy in the head for robbing a bank is no longer great optics.
so batman stops having fun. this is now his dark mission, his grim assignment. he doesn’t like this job, but someone’s gotta do it. he will not smile as he punches a rapist in the head. this is serious business. i don’t necessarily have a problem with this decision, because i think it’s a legitimate course of action to say “in a modern context, these behaviors become unacceptable, and so we will change his behaviors so that he can continue to be a heroic figure”. that’s valid as a motherfucker and i wish more people would remember that the whole point of making batman a grump was so that he could continue to be a good guy, as opposed to the alternative of gleeful violence.
(getting rid of most of the violence is also good–he’s a detective–but these are comics we’re talking about here so lol)
and then there’s the villains. you’d think this would be the point where they say “hey, maybe let’s go back to the way some of our villains were before the code”. you’d think that if they hated the goofy villains so much they’d just move on. but it’s comics so nothing ever goes in the trash for good. and that’s when you have writers who look at a cartoon wolf in a straitjacket and they say “that’s not what insanity looks like! we should make him a sociopath.”
i mean you could have just said “let’s stop calling him crazy and try to find a better motivation for these crimes, like being an asshole” but instead now batman has all these villains with sociopathy and OCD and DID and schizophrenia, because that makes it REAL, because now instead of being cartoon crazy people committing cartoon crimes they are real crazy people committing real crimes!! OH BOY
and at some point someone looks at this and goes “you know i feel like this might be ableist as shit” and writers could have said “yeah in retrospect the only evil clown i’m aware of was legally deemed sane and didn’t actually commit thematically appropriate crimes, so maybe mental health isn’t the issue here” but instead they said “yes, batman is kind of an asshole to be punching these sick people, but he’s a necessary asshole because without him there would be Crazy Crimes and we all just have to come to terms with that i guess”
now we’re at this place where we’re trying to reconcile about eighty years of nonsensical horseshit and all of these decisions that were made because of shifting cultural attitudes or to sell comics or because one writer in particular assumed everyone would love his cool OC as much as he did, and there are writers going “you know, bruce wayne probably has pretty severe ptsd” and there are writers going “what if batman was the REAL villain all along” and there are writers going “lol rich man wears bat costume to punch the mentally ill and poors, did u ever think about that” and there are writers going “hey have you heard of this ayn rand chick because boy howdy i just did and now i’ve got ideas”
but the reality is that heroism and goodness are not static concepts that look the same to all people even within the same era and trying to reconcile every different version of what the popular conception of heroism has looked like for almost a century is dumb as hell and batman should have entered the public domain in 2014
i think one of my favorite and wildly underappreciated early new 52 moments is when hal touches diana’s lasso without realizing it and more or less confesses he’s doing things to impress her and “most of what i do is about trying to impress people” and then batman just cracks up in the middle of the alien fight
it’s an ideal height distribution tbh because then whenever bruce, as an adult, is talking about how larger-than-life his father was everyone just feels bittersweet about it because the last time he saw his father he was a tiny boy and it just seems like, “oh, bruce’s memory of his father is always trapped in this time when his dad seemed like a giant”
but no, that has nothing to do with it, bruce is being completely factually correct and thomas wayne was enormous
“I assume your dad’s going to be the one that looks like you,” Clark said, adjusting his glasses as he scanned the crowd beneath the mezzanine.
“Just look for the biggest guy here,” Bruce said flatly.
Clark fought a smile.
“What.”
“Nothing! Nothing.”
Bruce waited.
“It’s just—you know.”
Bruce said nothing.
“You haven’t seen him since you were twelve.”
“Correct.”
“You maybe weren’t the tallest kid.”
Bruce said nothing.
“I’m just going to look for the guy who looks like you, rather than going by relative size.”
“And you must be the fellows who were chit-chatting with my wife!” came a voice, booming and boisterous as arms were thrown around each of their shoulders. Clark jumped; Bruce flinched.
Thomas Wayne was a good two inches taller than Clark, who was himself an inch taller than Bruce. Thomas had a glass of champagne in his right hand, which he had not spilled on Clark. There was a ping-pong ball floating in it. He had a half-empty bottle of wine in his left hand, which he had not spilled on Bruce. Between the fingers of his left hand dangled a bag of red plastic cups, unopened.
No one in the ballroom was using a red plastic cup.
Thomas’ coat and the top buttons of his shirt were undone; his bowtie had not been a bow in quite some time.
“Martha wouldn’t tell me what exactly it is you were up to,” he said cheerfully, “which I can only assume means I’d hate it!” He paused, squinting at Clark. “Oh, she must have loved you.” He gave Clark a proper once-over, down to his shoes and back up again. “Were you raised on a farm or what?”
“Why does everyone keep asking—”
“Anyway,” Thomas continued, somehow managing to pound them both on the back as he disengaged despite still having his hands full. “You two go on ahead and keep not telling me what you’re doing, if you need me I’m heading downstairs to set up a game of wine pong. It’s like beer pong, but if you’re doing it right it costs several thousand dollars! And it’s good for your heart! I’d know. I’m a doctor.”
He downed his glass of champagne and caught the ball in his teeth. He then somehow managed to arrange the items in his hands such that he could shoot them both fingerguns, clicking around the ball and waggling his eyebrows.
They watched as he slid sideways down the banister.
“I apologize for doubting your memory,” Clark said finally.
“Hm.”
“I feel like this explains a lot about your sense of humor.”
“I’m not convinced that it does.”
“… does he look how you remember?” Clark ventured.
“Usually I remember the way he looked one specific summer when I was a kid,” Bruce said thoughtfully.
Clark softened, almost reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. Then he narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“Hm?”
“I know what you’re doing, and we’re not doing it.”
“You asked.”
“I recognize that look.”
“This is just what my face looks like.”
“You’re going to make me think we’re having a moment so I let my guard down for the punchline,” Clark said, “and you’re not going to say it like it’s a punchline, so when I laugh, I look like an asshole.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I’m not allowed to laugh about this. You know I’m not.”
They were silent, the sounds of the party surrounding them from below.
“He had a horrible moustache,” Bruce said.
Clark pressed his knuckles to his mouth.
“I think my subconscious is trying to make death seem like a mercy.”
Clark made a muffled and hideous noise.
“Clark,” Diana scolded, and they turned to see her frowning as she approached. “This is a very difficult mission for Bruce, you mustn’t laugh.”
Clark threw up his hands in disgust.
“Or—wait.” Diana looked between them. “Was he doing it again?”
Clark nodded, lips pressed into a thin line.
“I think I remember this party,” Bruce said suddenly, looking out at the ballroom.
“What?” Clark and Diana asked simultaneously.
“It’s the one where that senator got thrown out of a window.” He pointed toward a commotion downstairs.
“What is your father doing?” Diana asked, leaning over a railing.
There was a crash of shattering glass, a series of screams, and scattered applause.
And he’ll insist he’ll be fine, “cause he’s a doctor” ?
Thomas raised an eyebrow with a level of disdain achievable only by those born to great wealth, and not at all befitting a man in the middle of using a meat cleaver to cut the nozzle off a garden hose. “Oh, I think I can handle it,” he scoffed. “I went to Yale.”
i'll apple your turnover 