“Mr. Keane. I’m Bruce Wayne.” His right hand goes to turn up the dimmer on the hanging lights, then extends towards Marcus almost warmly. “Welcome to my home. I don’t think I caught you and the—bishop? At the entrance.”

Up close (out of costume), he’s two inches shorter. His voice seems higher, body seems smaller in the fit gray and black suit. All smiles and unassuming, despite Marcus’ poor poker face. “So—not enjoying the party?”