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 Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2011 7:55 pm
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"Better three hours too soon than a minute too late."
- Batman
Personal Suit
"......Can I help you?"
My name is...... Penny Cordelia Wayne
But you can call me... Penny, Pen, or Chord. Don't ever call me Cordelia unless you want a fist in the face.
I am obviously a... Female.
And I was born 19 years ago.
Puzzle Pieces... Hero
I come from Greatness... Bruce Wayne / Batman
Look what I can do! I've got a photographic memory; aside from when I was in school it's not as helpful as you might think; makes reading books a second time less enjoyable, and I always feel the need to correct people. Of course, that would require me being social..which I am not.
I can be pretty... (Personality; at least a paragraph.)
Hitting Rewind...Oh, I don't know; what do you want me to say? I don't remember anything about my parents, and for as long as I can recall I grew up in an orphanage in Gotham City, run by a well meaning but ocassionally exceedingly forgetful elderly couple. I admit that I never really much fit in there with the other children; while they were eating dinner together at that large wooden table, I was off by mysef, eating my bread in a corner of the closet because I couldn't bear to be around such overly optomistic yet at the same time, hopelessly broken people. When all the children were out in that overgrown yard playing hacky sack, I was holed up in one of the few trees around the property with a ratted old copy of Alice in Wonderland. I tried to be friendy, but I never really managed to suceed at it; the children knew this, and left me alone for hte most part. So did the adults who might have considered adopting me. Every time a couple would come in, they would say the same thing to the elderly man and woman who took care of us all; I was smart, looked like I had a good head on my shoulders but my inability to be social just wasn't worth all the effort that would need to be put in. I was eventually given up on; nobody ever said it, but as I sat and watched the other children around me go off with new parents who probably lived in nice suburban homes, it became painfuly clear just how broken and of little value I was. At least, that was until he came into the picture. Bruce Wayne; the very little I knew about him was thanks to his security company which had provided what little technology the orphange had. I'd always pictured him as a very stern, unapproachable brooding sort of man; what I got wasn't all that far off the mark. He came in his shiny long black care when I was twelve, and found me up in one of the properties trees. He asked if I would come down, I said no. And then to everyone's suprise, Bruce Wayne, tall, borrding billionare, climbed up into said tree, settled down and began to ask me questions. I'm not sure when he decided I was worth all the trouble when so many people had already said no, but within the hour the papers were signed and I was officially a Wayne.
For the first few months I was very skeptical of him and his odd habits; how could he be ready to be a father when he was always out at night, leaving his butler Alfred (who was very nice, and I quicky grew attatched to him) to watch over me. But he tried his best, for a man who had never embarked upon this sort of thing before, and he often gave me presents, was there in some shape or form for all of my acheivements throughout the public schooling he gave me.....I grew to love him as much as I could, for someone having never had those kinds of experiences. At least, until I found the suit. It had been entirely by accident that I'd bumped into that particular object, that I'd discovered my father was actually savior of Gotham, Batman; it certainly explained a lot, but I started to worry about him a little more every time he left the house. To "keep me occupied", Dad said, I started taking business lessons about the company; he made it clear on numerous ocassions that what I wanted to do was no longer important since now that I was aware of his second existance he didn't need to be at the office as much as before, and named me heir to the Wayne fortune. We got into a lot of fights after that, and our relationship, though strong in the eyes of the media, quickly began to deteriorate to the point where we sat on far opposite ends of whatever room we were in. Did I hate it? Of course I did; but I didn't know how to change it, and so I didn't. Recently though, he hasn't been around at all; Alfred says he's helping out at Fog Prison, which is great and all, but....Dad's just one man. And I think it's time to give him some help, no matter if he likes it or not.
Tools of the Trade... My Dad gave me his old utility belt when I turned sixteen (I think he was just trying to keep me away from the batmobile keys, but whatever); it's only got some basic stuff like his basic baterangs and some explosive gel packs, but it's useful enough I guess.
I really enjoy... Reading, playing video games (particularly handhelds).
My Alliances... Robin's child, Catwoman's child (sometimes), and Vicki Vayle's child (hopefully I don't have to do a lot of saving).
My Opposition... Are you kidding me? Do you want to make a list of enemies my Dad's got?
Love it! (Likes)
Eew, Nasty! (Dislikes)
Turn it up!
Head Up // Andy Grammer
Sssh, don't tell! Okay, so I really wish my Dad and I had a better relationship then we do. I mean, would it kill him to acknowledge me in some way other then as just the heir to his business?
Am I forgetting something...? (Other, if any. )
I'll deny it! What? I don't have time for that.
My lord, god and master is Yoko_Matsubishi
UC
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