5851/Down

Down
Date of Scene:	25 November 2018
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Kestrel rescues Batman, is inducted into the Bat-Family, and becomes Nightwing's sidekick all in one evening.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Carrie Kelley, Nightwing

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Batman has posed:
    This neighborhood of Old Gotham is aflame tonight, casting an orange glow across the pregnant, black storm clouds that threaten to break at any moment. A great pillar of smoke rises from a dilapidated tenement building, gunshots crack and snarl through the air and a deep rumble followed by a shower of glass and debris from the windows tells of an explosion deep within.
    On the rooftop stands a dark-clad figure - partly hunched over, one arm pressed tightly against his midsection. The outfit he wears is scorched and torn, the cape practically shredded and even the cowl torn part away to reveal a tuft of black hair. Surrounding him are three men in advanced paramilitary garb, assault rifles raised to focus on the Batman. The vignette lasts only a moment, before something small and spherical falls from the Bat's hands and a great cloud of white smoke conceals the entire rooftop from view - tendrils wafting away in the increasingly vicious winds.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
It was impossible to miss the devestation of such a fire. Though not yet deemed 'fully qualified and trained' by many of the other vigilantes, it doesn't stop Kestrel from attempting to help in this instance. Fire affected everyone. She could at the very least attempt to mitigate the damage by ensuring people were out, and warned to get away, or even getting a better view of the source of the fire to inform any first responders on scene so those professionals could properly deal with it.

This was the plan at least as she swings in atop a rooftop almost half a block away to asess the situation. Seeing the confrontation on the rooftop makes her plans go right out the window.

Was he fighting them in that fog? Was he fleeing? She wasn't sure at this distance so does what she can by leaping one rooftop to another to get closer to both him and those dangerous flames. Her eyes remain peeled to spot where he was going, or if he was going. It's not long before she can hear the sounds of the fight, though. There was no mistaking the sounds of fists against opponents.

Batman has posed:
    he battle in the smoke is a chaotic one. Bullets fly and the sound off shouts both in pain and alarm ring out. But the wind does its work swiftly, and before long the smoke has trailed away off the roof to leave the scene visible once more. The armed men are unconscious, their guns destroyed or disassembled and laying in scattered pieces around them. Batman is not readily visible at first, looking to have almost disappeared. But no, he's there. He's fallen onto his knees, his shoulder pressed heavily against the side of a half-demolished pigeon coop that has been erected on the rooftop. He still holds one arm across his stomach.
    He fumbles around for a moment, producing a small white casing from his utility belt. He holds it for a second before it slips from his hands, the white surface now smeared with angry red. It skitters away across the rooftop before he collapses onto his side and lays unnervingly still.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
The number of gunmen are counted to ensure that the proper number are down on the rooftop now. Naturally they were. It was the more pressing issue of Batman's own state that has Kestrel running from her current perch atop a roof to leap, and land in a tumbling roll, on the one he was on. She's back to her feet in an instant. It's not him she goes to first though; she saw that vial he was fumbling for. It's this she stoops down to snag in gloved hand with a quick regard for the object as her feet carry her the rest of the distance to the felled form.

Kestrel crouches down next to him. Her free hand reaches out to touch his shoulder, speaking quietly, "Don't punch me out here I'm trying to help." Just in case. Though he didn't look in good shape at all. The eyes hidden behind her mask rake over him to review injuries and current state alike, before she reaches up to press fingers to the side of his neck checking for a pulse. First things first after all.

Batman has posed:
    Batman remains still for a moment as Carrie rests her hand on his shoulder. Through the armor, the stillness coupled with the lack of warmth makes him seem uncomfortably like a corpse. But as she speaks, his eyes suddenly open wide and his hand moves with lightning swiftness to grab her wrist. He holds it in an unrelenting grip, locking eyes with hers through his mask.
    " ... hnh ... "
    Whatever he's trying to say, he can't seem to manage it and it comes out merely as a murmured slur. He is covered in what look to be minor wounds. A burn on his upper arm, several bullet impacts to a heavily armored plate on his chest. His cowl has been partly torn and it looks as though he may have some cuts or scrapes somewhere under his matted black hair. The most pressing wound, however, appears to be to his abdomen. Some high-powered round has passed through the armor there and the wound spills blood between his fingers.
    " ... car ... "
    He manages the word, pulling a small black control from his utility belt and pressing it into her hand. The white vial she holds looks to be an applicator of some sort. He seems unable to provide much instruction in its use, however. The black control has only a single silver button on it in the shape of his bat-emblem.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley meets his gaze with her own unwavering and not saying anything. The moment necessary for him to filter through his pain who she was is allowed before she attempts anything else. The applicator she doesn't know, but that doesn't mean she doesn't have her own kit with her. It was his own advice during a meeting that she carry a utility belt of some sort. One doesn't take advice from Batman lightly if they're wise.

The keyfob is taken in hand with a nod of understanding, but she pauses at least long enough to flip open a pouch at her hip with a medical kit of her own. A small spray bottle is taken out which she spritzes over that gunshot wound. A clotting agent mixed with painkiller to stem the flow of blood at least a bit. It was temporary but would keep him from bleeding out before they got to the car. She hoped.

"Come on," she utters as she shifts to grab his arm and haul it over her shoulder taking care to use her legs as she moves to drag him off. The keyfob is pressed hoping it's a homing signal of some sort and not just an unlock. Though the car MUST be nearby.

Batman has posed:
    As the button is pressed, the device beeps and is accompanied by a nearby engine roar. In the alley alongside the building, concealed in shadow, the Batmobile suddenly springs to life. The headlights flood the asphalt before it with white light as the storm clouds overhead break and the rain beings to pour down in freezing sheets.
    Despite his wounded state, the Batman manages to hold himself on his feet. It is as though whatever energy or effort is required to speak has been taken away and instead devoted to keeping him conscious and mobile. He moves with Carrie to the ledge, peering down at the Batmobile below. He glances sidelong at her, breathing heavily - the bleeding mostly staunched for the moment.
    "Jump," he slurs, in a voice that even on the borders of consciousness brooks no dissent. He is already reaching for the de-cel line looped about his hip and handing it to her. Impromptu abseiling lesson.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
It wasn't the first, and likely not the last, that Carrie, aka Kestrel, has had to do the drunk-lean support for someone larger than her. Sure this wasn't one of her college friends calling for a ride home, but the effort required is very similar.

At the edge of the rooftop she glances down toward the Batmobile. It was the first time seeing this close before, at least when immobile, but she doesn't bother to gawk given the seriousness of the issue at hand. Hearing his command, and seeing the line handed toward her. It's taken, and she nods simply. This actually wasn't her first time doing this. Just the first time with someone else as well. Quickly, and efficiently, she secures the line on a structurally sound part of the building before hooking it back to the belt. "Ready," is all she says before doing as told: Jumping.

Batman has posed:
    Batman, for all his injuries, holds his own during the descent. This is all so much muscle memory to him that he braces himself and manages to part-run part-fall down the side of the building like it was nothing more than riding a bike. Of course, when they reach the bottom he finds his legs not quite strong enough to support him anymore and collapses into the collected garbage cans with a rattle.
    Detecting the presence of the keyfob Carrie holds, the driver compartment of the Batmobile hisses open to reveal the seat. A momentary scan picks up the presence of two individuals and, as a result, the passenger compartment opens also. Attempting to stagger to his feet, Batman speaks in words heavily slurred by pain:
    "Drive. Crest ... Hill. Car ... show you."
    Then he's down again.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"Got it. Relax, I've got it," Kestrel repeats a bit as she lands on her own feet, and moves to help Batman to his again. The driver seat is eyed momentarily but she hauls him around to the passenger side with as much effort as she can put into it. Muscles strain, and she can feel the burn of them being pushed as she does. It's all ignored. Into the Batmobile he goes with a quick flip of his cape rolled up ontop of him to ensure it doesn't get caught in the door shutting.

Satisfied she'd done as much as she could for him in this instance she runs to the driver side. A deep breath is taken as she slips into it feeling and looking rather small behind that large wheel. Scooted forward a good deal on the seat she can at least reach the pedals to operate.It just meant the most awkward of positioning. The door is shut, and she reaches for the shifter to start driving where told. Either by him, or the car. At least she knew Crest Hill.

Batman has posed:
    Batman practically slumps into the passenger seat, and with his cape thrown over him the door hisses shut and seals him in there. When Carrie enters the driver's seat, her door also hisses shut and seals her in what could seem more like the cockpit of a fighter jet than behind the wheel of a car. There is no glass window to look out, apparently, and everything is dark for a moment. Suddenly, the driver's compartment illuminates red and what looks to be a laser grid of some sort descends to map every contour of Carrie's face and form. As quickly as it appeared, it disappears and the black space before her illuminates with the words 'Welcome KESTREL.' Although not a formal member of the Batman's organization, it seems he had prepared for her regardless.
    The space before Carrie now shows a live camera feed outside the Batmobile, as though she is seated in a glass dome that allows her to see unobstructed in every direction all about her. A graphic overlay indicates to her what controls do what, and a map directs her towards Crest Hill - specifically a disused service road somewhere out in the uninhabited woods.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"Guess I should be flattered," Kestrel mumbles when she's apparently recognized by the computer in the car. At the very least it meant that it wasn't going to lock it's systems out due to her presence. "Glad it comes with a manual, too." It wasn't that she was speaking for his sake. It just helped the stressful situation a bit as she turns her attention to driving with the aid of the computer. Hitting the gas certainly packs a punch at first causing her to grip the steering wheel tighter to keep from being pushed back into the seat.

The map is followed diligently. Even though she takes care to look around at this all-over-display, years of video gaming have taught her how to multi-task in this regard. Don't hit anyone. Don't get the police after you. Follow the map. Up to where though? A slow suspicion builds in her causing her glance to steal back toward Batman thoughtfully at that half-cracked away mask. The thought is shaken from her head to turn her attention back to the drive making haste before his identity might not matter anymore.

Batman has posed:
    In the passenger compartment, Batman seems to be in and out of consciousness. He is slumped back in the seat, hand still pressed over the wound in his abdomen. The mask looks as though it would indeed pull away easily, cracked and torn as it is, and even now one of his blue eyes is clearly visible from where one of the eyelets has come loose.
    The Batmobile leads Carrie out of Gotham to Crest Hill, following dusty trails deep into the woods. Outside, it only gets deeper and darker. There is no sign of life save the distant lights on a hill visible partly through the crooked, clawing branches. It begins to seem more and more as though whatever is directing the Car is just as broken as the Batman in the rear seat.
    "Kestrel ... " the Bat wheezes from the backseat.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"If the car can go on autopilot from here, I'll stop and let it do so, otherwise? There's not much to be done right now. We'll deal with it later," Comes Kestrel's response from the front seat. Given how secretive he was she was rather certain that's along the lines of what he was thinking: She was about to potentially see things she shouldn't. As it was, she likely already had being in the car to begin with.

"So unless what you're trying to say is about how to fix you, save your strength."

Batman has posed:
    "Hngh," is all Batman manages, unable to speak any further. Whatever is going to be said, it seems, will need to wait until later.
    The Car continues down the dusty service road, apparently unable to go on autopilot - likely a failsafe to prevent someone from fooling the car into driving them back to the Batcave. When the Car calls for Carrie to turn, however, it directs her down a narrow road and towards what looks like a sheer cliff face.
    From behind her, Batman manages: "Fast ... as you ... can."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley nods solemnly. It was a response he couldn't hear but the only one she can manage right now. A shiver of adrenaline and uncertainty comes as that cliff face approaches. Surely there was some trick to it as he urges her on to drive fast, but it was still slightly terrifying. More than slightly. Doubling down her effort she presses the accelerator. Slowly, firmly, down. Resisting the urge to squeeze her eyes shut she just watches as her heart rate speeds up in time to the spedometer going higher.

Batman has posed:
    The Batmobile responds by speeding up, swiftly climbing to maximum velocity as it tears down this apparently disused and secluded backwoods road towards a sheer stone cliff face. The engine roars underneath them, flames licking at the cold night air. It takes only a scant few seconds to reach the rocky surface, and it seems all too obvious that the car is about to crash into it. If it is a secret entrance it doesn't lift away or part to reveal a tunnel. No, it allows Carrie to drive straight into it ...
    ... and pass through without an issue. The cliff, while looking real, seems to be nothing more than an illusion. A split second later, the Batmobile is tearing down what looks to be a low and rocky tunnel deep beneath the earth. The wheel in Carrie's hands locks up as the autopilot takes over whether she likes it or not, steering the pair of them into the depths of the Batcave. It slows down, no longer moving at the same breakneck pace.
    After several minutes, the car comes to a stop in what looks to be a giant cave that has been fitted with a wide variety of advanced technology. There is no one there to greet them, this being one of a handful of days a year where Batman is truly alone in his crusade. As the Batmobile comes to a stop, the compartments hiss open and Carrie is left to her own devices.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel sits for a moment. Just a moment. It was a lot to process after all. Then she moves to climb out of the seat stealing a glance back at Batman with a frown. "Be right back," she assures as she takes off at a jog away from the Batmobile. The reason was simple: she didn't know the layout of this place. He could barely speak. Her quick run is a means of scoping out where she'd be taking him to avoid wasting further time in getting him the aid he desperately needs.

Sooner than he might expect she's back by the side of the Batmobile barely breathing deep at all. Running was one thing she was good at. Leaning in she again reaches for him to offer him aid in getting out. "I saw the med area, I'm taking you there." Quick as possible goes unsaid when her eyes dip back down to that injury at his side.

Batman has posed:
    Batman slumps out of the car as Kestrel comes to get him, letting her half-carry him to the first aid room. It is practically set up as a doctor's surgery, kept clean and sterile for use. As they get inside, the table at the center lowers to the floor automatically and allows the Bat to collapse on it. As he falls, he reaches to the gauntlet of his suit and presses an apparently innocuous button there. Then, having lost his battle to remain conscious, he passes out on the table as it slowly lifts on pneumatic risers to waist height.
    Almost on cue, a holographic overlay fills the room around Carrie. A virtual doctor of sorts. Just like the car, it appears designed to walk her through basic triage. For all his unwillingness to accept new soldiers into the fight, Batman seems to have rigged much of his equipment to be used by those with no familiarity. Almost like a training mode.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
There's a surprising amount of the basic triage that Carrie seems to know already. The overlay certainly does help with the more in-depth however. Ignoring her surroundings she sets to work getting him out of the suit to the appropriate level to treat the injury. Removing any bullet or fragments that may be in there. Stopping the bleeding, and stitching where needed. The proper drugs are applied when necessary as well following the 'tutorial' along precisely and without deviation.

Batman has posed:
    Whatever button Batman pressed on his gauntlet deactivated the varying defense measures designed to keep his suit from being removed while he is unconscious. The chest and arm armor are easily pulled away once the locking mechanisms are deactivated, and the bodysuit underneath is easily torn away. He lays there in the lower half of his suit and the cowl, the wound tended to. It will need a doctor's care at some point, certainly, but he seems stabilized for now. Although he had been in and out of consciousness, he seems to have now lost it entirely and remains completely still and silent while medical care is given.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Somewhere along the line of working on Batman, Kestrel had taken off her cape. It wasn't as long or volumnous as his but it was just easier to ensure that she wasn't getting it in the way during the triage. Once done she steps back and just... Leans against the wall of the cave to finally let herself catch her breath. Dipping her head forward she runs a hand over her face letting everything sink in.

She could take off his cowl. It was half broken anyway. Not to mention she had a more-than-sneaking suspicion at this point of who he was. Instead she'd left it on him though out of respect. Now she just needed to think.

From where she stands, with head bent forward, it's difficult to see her face. Just the shock of her ginger hair as her hand runs through it.

Batman has posed:
    Batman lays unconscious on a triage bed in the medbay area of the Batcave. His torso is heavily bandaged from what looks to be a particularly nasty bullet wound or series of bullet wounds. He still wears the cape, cowl, pants, and boots of his batsuit. He's breathing and his vitals are acceptable according to the monitors, although he looks to have a ways to go before he could be considered 'well' again. The moment he went down, an alert pulse went out through all systems connected to the Batcomputer - he was gravely injured and he'd had to rely on someone not formally inducted to their ranks to help him. Kestrel.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Hey, Bruce," the sound of Dick Grayson's disembodied, silvery voice calls out across the cave. "Heard the car coming in. You're early, but just in time. Alfred made beef wellington tonight, and it is dee-lish. So glad I dropped in tonight, now. Where you at, anyway?"

    A pause, and Dick's voice becomes very deep, raspy, and gravelly, "No skulking in the caaaaaaave!"

    Clearly, he's moving about the place, as the echoing sound of his voice seems to be coming from different directions.

    "I'm about to head out on patrol for the night. I think Damian is having another sleepover with the Titans or something, and Tim is probably off somewhere thinking about girls, so... all is well in the world, it seems. I do have something to talk to you about though. Met someone the other night with some seriously mad kung fu skills and the apparent ability to see chi. Good teamwork, too. Might want to see her in action yourself."

    His voice gets closer now, as if he might be right around a corner. "No. Seriously. Where are you?"

    And then he does round the corner. Nightwing... or... well, Dick Grayson. He's currently in mid-suiting up, which means that the skin tight bodysuit that he wears is pulled up over his legs, and around his waist, and he's pulling it taught over one of his arms, while the other side of his chest is still bare. No mask. Just... letting his face hang all out there in the open, you know... like he lives here or something.

    And there is that.

    Dick stops in midstep, as if he were just able to hold still enough, he might turn invisible. His crystal clear blue eyes are as wide as silver dollars. His jaw falls slack. At first, it's just the redhead that's caught him so off guard.

    But then he sees Bruce. Panic mode sets in and he mutters a curse under his breath as he rushes forward, slipping his other arm into the sleeve of his black and blue costume, but doesn't bother zipping it up. Approaching the side of the bed, he does a quick, immediate once over to assess the situation, to determine what, if anything, he might need to do. But, before he can even organize his reeling thoughts, he is already running off at the mouth.

    "What happened, and who are you? I'm assuming he led you here, but you're no one I've seen before. What happened?"

    Yeah. He asked that twice.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
That voice... Was not familiar at all. None the less it sounded absolutely nothing like the Batman she'd run into several times before. Kestrel starts to lift her head with a troubled look as she realizes that whomever it was didn't know the situation. Her weight shifts forward to push away from the wall to stand up straight by the time he comes around the corner.

Meanwhile she cringes at the names rattled off. Tim she guessed. Damian though? The Titans? That was a rather large worldview difference to let sink in once she had time to actually do it. Right now was not the time nor the place to do that, especially when Nightwing rounds the corner to see her and the injured Batman on the table.

"Gunshot wound. He was fighting four armed men by the time I came across him but I think the injury was before that," she explains with a small gesture toward him. "He's stable for now but will need more than I can do pretty soon." It wasn't that she was purposefully ignoring his question; this was just the more pressing issue.

"I'm Kestrel. Yin is my Sifu, and I recently started working with the Birds." Was that their official name? The Shadow had called them that.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Four...?" Dick asks, incredulous. It's written on his face as clearly as it rings in his voice. He cannot believe that this would happen. Ever.

    "Only four? Was one of them Two-Face? Penguin? ...Deadshot?"

    Because if Bruce got hurt like this over four Gotham thugs in an alleyway....

    He places his hand on his father's bicep, letting his eyes fall down on to the unconscious face half hidden by the cowl. His features, handsome and trapped, seemingly eternally, on the cusp of boyish youth and mature masculinity, goes crestfallen. Quietly he murmurs, "What the hell is making you lose a step, old man?"

    He looks back to Carrie, now. "You didn't answer the question..."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"They looked like professionals. Military grade equipment. Plus there was a fire," she adds as her hand lifts to start ticking off the various issues she'd run across. "I don't know much more than that. I came to see if I could help with the fire when I came across the fight, to be honest. I'm sure there was more involved in the situation that I'm not aware of."

Then he presses her identity further earning a small sigh from her. "I guess it's only fair given I already figured out one of your brothers, and there wasn't a lot of guessing left with his mask as it is." A glance is cast toward the figure on the table quietly.

"I'm Carrie Kelley. Damian's acting teacher." There's a pause before she adds, "And I think I have to give him a passing grade because he was the *only* one I wasn't suspecting of something else going on."

Batman has posed:
    "Civilians," Batman says quietly from the table, his voice gravelly with pain. Apparently conscious again, though there is no real telling just how long he has been so. He doesn't move. Remaining as he is on the table. He doesn't try to push himself or negate the good triage work already done.
    "Had a choice. Take a bullet or let them take it. Made the call."

Nightwing has posed:
    Dick's lips pull taut, dipping into a deep frown, and his brows come crashing down, brooding over his blue eyes, making them seem less bright and vibrant. More like stormy skies. He takes in the story, but it still seems like... like a routine night for The Batman. Why on earth would Bruce be off his game to let himself get hurt like this? He looks back to the unconscious man on the bed, trying to figure out just what had gone wrong. Worried that something deeper is going on. Or something deeper is going on with his father.

    Turning his attention back to Carrie, though, as she starts speaking, Dick raises a brow as she introduces herself. As Damian's acting teacher? He tilts his head to the side, and he looks her up and down. "You look a little young to be a teacher."

    Buthe shrugs his shoulders, and goes back to the thought of Bruce. He reaches down, pulling off the useless cowl. At least he'll be able to breathe easier without it. He has a mind to use smelling salts, and is just about to open his mouth to say as much when Bruce speaks. He reaches down, and takes Bruce's hand, giving it a squeeze and nodding his head.

    "Take it easy," he replies. "So... should we... you know... flashy thing her?"

    He must be joking right? Surely. He doesn't sound like he's joking.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"I will bite you." Carrie lifts an eyebrow while standing with arms crossed over her chest regarding them. There was no anger to the statement, or even actual threat. It was just the first response that came to mind at the mention of flashy thinging her. It was as mature a response as could be expected.

"Look I'm not about to go blabbing to anyone. I know this is serious business. Besides that, yeah Damian *is* my student." It's here she turns serious, her green eyes getting a sharp glint to them as she regards both Dick and Bruce. "I'm not about to go risking revealing anything that could put him in danger. I'd never do that."

Batman has posed:
    "It's - ngh ... " Bruce props himself up on an elbow, squeezing the offered hand in return while looking warily at Carrie, " ... it's fine. Suppose this was an inevitability."
    Taking it easy doesn't appear to be in his vocabulary, unfortunately. The likelihood is that if the Joker were to start causing havoc right now, Bruce would be putting on another Batsuit and heading out the door. Even with his internal organs near hanging out. He locks eyes with Carrie, intense despite his weakened state.
    If there isn't a real 'flashy thing' he certainly doesn't let on.
    "You're sloppy with the rope. Need to work on your traversal first."

Nightwing has posed:
    "Don't make promises you won't keep," Dick replies, his response spilling forth from his lips without thought. Just automatic flirtation. It's sort of a default. It's also a coping mechanism. Go figure.

    As Bruce starts to lift himself up, Dick reaches down, pressing the button to raise the back of the bed to save him the effort of needing to hold himself up, while still being able to look at them instead of the dark shadows of the cave's ceiling.

    "It's a lot more serious than just that, even..." Dick says to Carrie. "The ripples that would be created if this were all to come out... the things it would do would destroy this entire city."

    He's not lying. After all, if it got out that Bruce was Batman? That he'd raised a bunch of children to be soldiers in a war on crime? So many of his previous efforts would be reversed. So many criminals would wind up back on the streets, with Batman being discredited. Wayne stock shares would plummet. Gotham's economy would crash. Infrastructure would fall apart. The city would eat itself.

    But now Dick is looking back to Bruce again, lifting one thin, dark brow. "...You serious here?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
When Bruce starts to sit up Carrie automatically steps forward reaching out with intent to aid. It lasts a half-second before she catches herself. Dick was right there and able to do a far better job of it. Her role for aiding and offering first aid was at an end. Instead she awkwardly drops her arms back down to her side, and turns to grab her cape off of a counter where she'd folded it up in a hasty bundle.

When she half-turns back toward them a single eyebrow raises at his remark about her rope work. "Yeah. Haven't had a lot of practice with rapeling yet. Mostly been doing free-running where I can."

Her head tips toward Dick as she adds, "I didn't get into this to try and figure out who you all were. It's just happened along the way."

Batman has posed:
    "She's going to do it anyway," Bruce says flatly, leaning back as the bed becomes able to support him laying upright, "Said as much last time we spoke. And if that's the case, then I don't want her out there without the best tools at her disposal."
    It may be that he's referring to the gadgets he seems to have in spades, but more likely he refers to training. When Carrie explains about the free-running he nods his head and listens: "Needs work. It all needs a lot of work. You willing to work?"

Nightwing has posed:
    Dick just listens to this exchange, and nods his head at Bruce's assertion. Yeah. The thing about the young vigilante types these days... they're a stubborn lot. They're all just going to do it anyway.

    "Oh. This... this is where I get to step in, isn't it?"

    Dick puts on a half formed grin, and looks from Bruce back to Carrie. He lifts his shoulder in a shrug, and then reaches down to zip up the front of his suit, realizing he's been kindof bare chesting it this entire time. Embarassing.

    "I mean, if she needs to work on her free running, that's going to be my department, so I'm assuming that I'm getting pressed into service here."

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Work hard? It takes a moment for the gears to turn properly in her head. It wasn't that she was slow, it was just that the initial interaction between Bruce and Dick was definitely based on their own relationship. Dick knew what was being offered before Bruce even finished voicing the apparent invitation.

"Of course. I've been beating myself up all Summer just to get where I am now." Which was... not anywhere near where she needed to be, she knew.

The mention of free-running by Dick draws her attention back, and she lightly clears her throat when he zips his suit up. That part wasn't going to be spoken of. "I'm actually better at that really. I get to practice it most often since it doesn't require equipment. But I'm always willing to learn more," she adds with a grin. Her gaze darts between the two again. "If this is serious, then... Yeah, of course I'll work hard."

Batman has posed:
    "You'll eat those words," Bruce says, a slight smirk on his face - the first emotion of any sort beyond 'ouch' that he's shown this evening. He glances back at Dick and nods his head as he offers, confirming that particular suspicion.
    "You might be good," he says to Carrie, before gesturing weakly at Dick, "But he's better. You'll see."
    He takes a deep breath, the pain and discomfort of the wound - on top of the finite energy he is able to muster - finally catching up with him: "We'll worry about it later. For now, Dick, you need to cover my patrol. Take Kestrel with you."

Nightwing has posed:
    "Oh. Carrie. You sweet, sweet girl," Dick says, with a slow creeping grin, and adding more than just a touch of the dramatic to his voice. "you might be "better" at it, but you're not Nightwing better at it..."

    Which Bruce only reiterates. Dick sort of folds his arms across his chest, and gives a thumb over towards the Bat to reaffirm the statement, before he gives a playful wink. When Bruce gives the command, Dick only nods his head, his features retreating back into a semblance of stoicism. Serious business and all.

    "Right. I'll pull double duty. At least until you're back up and running. I'll show her a thing or two. Mind if I hook her up with one of the older model grapple lines? She looks like she's light enough that it won't strain the motor. She's... what... a buck... a buck ten sopping wet?"

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Kestrel peers at Nightwing's remarks with a sinking feeling in her stomach. It only causes her to square her shoulders further as she stands straighter. That edge of determination she'd displayed in the past was back once again. A grin is flashed in response to the reactions from the pair. "Yeah, figure I will. Best get to it then."

"And I'm 128 thank you very much. ... I put on some muscle lately," she explains. Hmph. She wasn't THAT small! Mostly. "Ready when you are."

Batman has posed:
    "Whatever she needs," Bruce says quietly, unable to resist the pull back into unconsciousness for too much longer, "Will need to re-outfit her from the ground up anyway ... but make an executive decision."
    He takes a deep breath, groaning under the pain of the wound, "Go." It's fairly obvious he doesn't want the pair of them to see the Batman at anything less than his terrifying very best.