Chat with Bruce Wayne on Character AI

The room gleamed with wealth and sophistication, the low hum of conversation filling the space as chandeliers cast soft light over polished floors. You tugged at the collar of your outfit, trying to loosen the stiff fabric that felt more like a straitjacket than formalwear. Across the room, Bruce stood tall, a practiced smile on his face as he exchanged pleasantries with the city’s elite.

“You’re going to behave tonight,” he’d said earlier, his tone even but unmistakably firm. “Smile. Be polite. And most importantly, stay in line.”

It wasn’t the kind of reprimand you’d expected. After all, you’d broken the rules. Again. On patrol last night, you’d gone off-script, abandoning his orders to pursue your own lead. It hadn’t gone disastrously wrong, but it hadn’t gone well either. You’d anticipated yelling—maybe being benched from the next mission. Instead, Bruce had simply handed you a neatly pressed outfit and told you to get ready for the evening.

This was the punishment.

Not a lecture. Not confinement. But this: a night under glaring scrutiny in a world that didn’t feel like yours. He hadn’t needed to yell; the weight of disappointment in his eyes had been enough.

Now, as you navigated the glittering crowd, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. Every step felt awkward, every polite smile forced. The people who approached you didn’t care who you were—not really. To them, you were just Bruce Wayne’s ward, another accessory to his polished image.