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♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀ ╰┈➤ ❝the unfed mind devours itself.❞
Morana scorned herself repentantly, she paced ambivalently across her apartment. Trying to conjure up ways in which she could procure a story on the famous, more like infamous Bruce Wayne.
She muttered curses that struck her tongue and coursed around the room. The girl had no utter clue how she was planning to take this on. Maybe she could fake it? No that would most definitely not end well.
After a while and growing tired she sat, and buried her face within her hands. Morana was scolding herself, for so impulsively agreeing to do this. She thought of Bruce and his pent up rage and his tired, hesitant eyes. He was fascinating.
No wonder Frankie wanted a story so badly, no one knew a thing about the man. The shadows of his past, he wore like a cloak.
Resisting greatly her body lay against the sofa and eyes fluttered shut, her spirit slowly succumbing to the comforting darkness.
With great panic she awoke, careening to the sound of her phone blaring beside her. Sighing and readjusting herself she reached for the familiar contact scrolling across the screen.
"Frankie." she spoke with the fakest lack of annoyance she could muster up. Frankie was the last person she wanted to speak to.
"Lisbon, have you had a chance to look into this article yet?" he hurriedly gushed every word through the phone.
"I'm making plans and writing out thoughts as I usually would, but no I haven't made contact yet."
He huffed at her lack of a start. If only he knew she hadn't even done a fraction of that.
"Well I got my men to look into it further, we have a number of a man who knows Bruce well. Worked for his father or some shit, call him and arrange an appointment."
This was the breakthrough she needed, even though anxiety relented in the pit of her stomach she now had a way in.
"Oh great thank -"
Before she had a chance to finish, he breathed the number and made sure she understood where to go from here.
"That will be a great help, thank you Frankie."
"Stop blabbering to me Lisbon, ring the number and get the article done. Or the second half of the advance you can kiss goodbye."
And just like that he hung up. The phone beckoning with relieved silence at the now absence of his voice.
A smile crept up upon her lips, held up by the nerves stringing at the corners. She scrawled the number on a receipt that lay neatly on the table.
Gingerly her fingers typed the number into her phone. A few rings echoed throughout her mind, cacophonies rattling across the room.
"Hello, who is this?" a friendly, weary voice ushered to her, she felt more at ease sensing the inviting tone.
"Good afternoon, I'm Morana Lisbon I'm a reporter with hopes of writing a story on Mr Wayne." an inviting hint etched across her syllables welcoming the man into conversation.
"Ah yes of course, I remember talking to a tabloid lovely to speak with you Miss Lisbon. I'm Alfred Pennyworth, housekeeper to Mr Wayne."
"Thank you Mr Pennyworth, I was wondering if it were possible to maybe arrange a date to meet with Mr Wayne and see about getting started." she spoke calmly and reassuringly not rushing into details and far fetched fates.
"Call me Alfred please. The thing is Mr Wayne is rather a difficult man to persuade into things, you see I think it would be great for him but he prefers to hide away from spotlight."
"I think the whole city thinks that Alfred, that's why we need something new and bold something that will drag him out of the shadows placing him at the forefront of the city."
Her tone took on its usual harsher note at this sudden need of persuasion, why she wanted this so badly evaded her but she tried unperturbed nonetheless.
"Ok Miss Lisbon we'll give it a shot, how about here tomorrow at around early afternoon?"
"Sounds perfect, and call me Morana." she smiled against the phone even though she realised he was not there to see it.
"I must warn you Morana Mr Wayne can be very specific about certain things, he may come across as blunt but you will grow used to it. See you tomorrow."
"See you, Mr Pennyworth."
The line rang dead and she sat up. His words toiled in her mind he may come across blunt, yeah you don't say.
A new wave of anxiety cascaded through her at the thought of seeing Bruce again, now under professional circumstances.
Of course there was nothing unprofessional about their prior meeting, it just lacked the decadence of formality.
In a sudden rush of adrenaline she was strangely anticipating this arrangement, the intrigue into this cloaked figure of a man rang through her mind beckoning to be seen.
Maybe that's what he indulged in ; hiding.
Her limbs would not sit still, urging to tap or sway she relented and got up continuing her former past time, pacing around.
Morana began thinking of questions and leads to follow, what she should avoid and most importantly how she was going to make this a dire success.
Through all this frivolous distraction the girl realised, she'd not been out partaking in her usual misfortunes. Slinking around the city in the fitful cover of dark pickpocketing fortunes.
Maybe it was the adrenaline coursing through her restless veins, or maybe it was the criminal in her that lay coddled within the depths of her boots.
