I need to stop stalking the TR forums. I found a 'discussion' about Mjolnir and Excalibur and there was a poll on which was cooler. I chose Mjolnir because it doesn't make my screen explode with blinding green light and Lara didn't use it to attempt murder on Amanda.
Speaking of our favorite sociopath, we'll be seeing her soon. I promise you.
Disclaimer: I disclaim Tomb Raider and Batman: Arkham Asylum.
Contains spoilers for: Legend, Underworld, possibly Anniversary, Arkham Asylum (of course), and slight ones for Beneath the Ashes and Dark Knight (just the whole 'Rachel died' thing and the layout for Wayne Manor)
Lets get chapter two rolling, with more awkward dialogue between Lara and Bruce. And their dinner where Lara gets pissed off by an old lady.
. . . . .
I laid the sword on the bed and crossed my arms. I chewed on my lower lip, contemplating whether I could trust Bruce enough to show him my discovery. On one hand, I haven't seen him in eighteen years. On the other hand, I feel as if no time had even passed. He's still the same Bruce Wayne I've always known. The one Rachel and I fought over when we were children.
I smiled softly, turning from the sword to my luggage. I sifted around through my things until I found my ever-handy pistols. Zip seems to have named them after infamous criminals- Bonnie and Clyde. How the mind of that man works, I will never figure out.
"La-ra!" Speak of the devil and he shall come.
"Yes, Zip?" I smiled, recovering them with my favorite blue shirt.
"Just checkin' in on ya. How's it going with Wayne?"
"On?" Zip asked.
"A lot of things." I said simply.
The door to the guest house opened softly, followed by a knocking, "Lara?"
"Zip, I'll have to call you back." Before he could respond, I removed my headset and placed it on the bed next to Excalibur.
"Who uh, who were you talking to?" Bruce asked, running his hand through his hair.
"My technical advisor, Zip. He's the one that called you." I explained.
Bruce smiled, "so what did you have to show me?"
I inhaled deeply, running my fingers over the blade of the sword, "allow me to assume you have heard of King Arthur and his sword, Excalibur."
"Yeah. Everyone knows the story. What, uh, what does that have to do with anything?" Bruce asked, a nervous look spreading across his face.
"It isn't a story, Bruce. King Arthur was real," I paused, wrapping my fingers around the hilt and holding it up for Bruce to see, "and neither was his sword. You see, this could have brought my mother back. It sent her to Avalon, to Helheim, and I believed it would also bring her back."
"Did it?" Bruce inquired, reclining against the wall. How he was taking this all so calmly I will never know.
"No. My mother was a Thrall." I explained, swinging Excalibur over my shoulder. I killed her. I couldn't bring myself to speak those words. They hung heavy in my throat.
"Like a zombie?"
"Yes. Something like that." I looked away from Bruce's brown eyes.
"So, mind showing me how that baby works?" Bruce asked, rubbing his hands together and smiling.
I gave him a sly glance, "it depends on if there is anything near by that I can break."
. . .
"Its down this way." Bruce called as we descended a hill to the very back of the property.
"What exactly is all the way back here, anyway?" I asked, looking around at the sparse end of the property.
"Just an old shed that hasn't been used in forever." Bruce shrugged, pointing to the tiny shack a few yards away.
I smiled and wielded Excalibur, feeling the energy from it. I flexed my fingers, inhaled deeply, and closed my eyes. With one swift movement, I swung the weapon out and forward. Even through my eyelids I could see the green energy.
I opened my eyes to see the shack completely obliterated, spare a few pieces of wood. Bruce stood beside me with his mouth hanging open.
Smirking, I pushed his chin up, "you'll catch flies that way."
. . .
"You look great, by the way." Bruce commented as we drove through downtown Gotham.
I smiled, knowing he was right, of course. I had on a dark purple one-strap dress that scrunched at the hip like a sash before tapering back down to the knee. He looked handsome as well, in a well-tailored black suit and a powder blue tie.
"As do you." My smile faltered a tad as we approached the restaurant. People with cameras were waiting.
"And here we are." Bruce stated, parking in front of the building.
"You enjoy publicity too much." I commented as we emerged from Bruce's convertible.
"Its kind of a 'rich and famous' thing. I thought you'd be used to it." Bruce stated as he smiled for the paparazzi that seemed to be gathering by the hundreds.
"I prefer keeping to myself." I muttered, shielding my eyes from the lights.
We walked into the restaurant as quickly as possible. The sooner I was away from those cameras, the better. As we walked inside, an older couple waved us over. Bruce dragged me along.
"Hello Mr. Wayne, how are you tonight?" The woman asked, folding her hands in her lap pleasantly.
"I'm fine thank you." Bruce smiled, pushing his hair back.
"Who's your friend Bruce?" The man asked.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, this is my friend Lara Croft.
Mrs. Taylor held her hand out to me and I shook it politely, "pleasure to meet you."
"Is she a model? Or a ballerina?" Mr. Taylor asked, elbowing Bruce playfully.
"No, actually, she's a-"
"An archeologist." I finished, glaring at Bruce out of the corner of my eye.
"Oh, going for brain and beauty now, eh Bruce?"
"Why don't you two sit down?" Mrs. Taylor offered.
Bruce looked at me and I gave him a pointed look. "Sure. Why not?"
. . .
"So, who do you think is going to become the new DA?" Mrs. Taylor, whose name I found out is Lillian, asked over her salad.
"I don't know, but hopefully the new one doesn't end up as a patient at Arkham." Bruce laughed, and was joined in by the others.
I wrinkled my brow, "I'm sorry, I'm afraid I don't follow."
"Gotham's last DA, Harvey Dent, went mad after Rachel's death." Bruce explained, taking a sip of wine.
"Gotham's occupants certainly have a knack for going insane." I muttered dryly, poking my salad with my fork, "or a certain attraction for the insane."
"I certainly hope not. One of us could be next." Lillian laughed, "fortunately none of us know anybody that is… mentally ill."
I took a deep breath, setting down my fork, "Actually, an old friend of mine is being treated at your Asylum. So you best watch your mouth."
Lillian looked at me with a shocked expression, "I'm so sorry, Lara, I had no idea…"
"Of course you didn't." I stood up, feeling the need to walk off my anger before returning.
Maybe visiting Amanda isn't such a good idea.