"I can hold my breath for ten minutes or so," is his answer to relaxing floating jaunts. It seems unlikely that he can, particularly while doing anything, but you never know. Normal Batman shit. It would be less chill than a snorkel, but he'd get style points.
A kite-shaped ray comes around again, swooping on a lazy racetrack, and Bruce leans in and dips his hand into the water, letting his fingers run along its wet sandpaper skin. For a moment he lets himself be transported; standing just here (a meter over, actually), this same sensation under his hand, a ten-year-old boy babbling excitedly about it, utterly unaware of his shirtsleeves and half his front being soaked. It was crowded that day, noise echoing off every surface, animals drawn to the din.
Silence aside from lapping water, when he returns. (Only a few seconds missing. It's fine.)
"Once in a while I have to convince myself there's probably not anything unusual living under the house."
no subject
"I can hold my breath for ten minutes or so," is his answer to relaxing floating jaunts. It seems unlikely that he can, particularly while doing anything, but you never know. Normal Batman shit. It would be less chill than a snorkel, but he'd get style points.
A kite-shaped ray comes around again, swooping on a lazy racetrack, and Bruce leans in and dips his hand into the water, letting his fingers run along its wet sandpaper skin. For a moment he lets himself be transported; standing just here (a meter over, actually), this same sensation under his hand, a ten-year-old boy babbling excitedly about it, utterly unaware of his shirtsleeves and half his front being soaked. It was crowded that day, noise echoing off every surface, animals drawn to the din.
Silence aside from lapping water, when he returns. (Only a few seconds missing. It's fine.)
"Once in a while I have to convince myself there's probably not anything unusual living under the house."
In the dark water.