10002/Knightfall: That weight, though

Knightfall: That weight, though
Date of Scene:	11 November 2019
Location:	Batcave - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Stephanie boosts Batman (Dick)'s spirits about the workload.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Spoiler
Tinyplot:	Knightfall

---

Nightwing has posed:
Batman is at the main computers, lit from the front by the active monitors he's using. The left side is surveillance related, the right ongoing groups of clues related to one of the situations of the city. There isn't just surveillance of the city going on though: the left also contains a feed of information from the Justice League. While the bat-clan is almost exclusively in Gotham, Batman himself has a broader picture to need to deal with. And that does include metropolis: one of those maps of hot-spots is Metropolis. Which may not be a surprise, with Superman being down, everyone needs to put an extra eye in Metropolis to help out.

Below that, is Bludhaven. Another city that's lost it's protector Nightwing, lately. The feast of locations and information is heavy, spread over the monitors.

Batman is going through it, doggedly. It is Dick, as Batman, of course: but from afar, the cowl does read. So does the behavior. Dick may fail to be Batman in some ways, but not the workaholic one.

Spoiler has posed:
A Batcycle rolls quickly down the vehicle entrance to the Batcave, the high performance engine sounding less like a motorcycle than one would expect given it was made to be able to approach targets quietly.

Stephanie's blond hair stirs behind her as if mimicking her cape, until she's slowed enough they both just hang lose, the Batcycle pulled into a parking spot in the vehicle maintenance bay. Though the systems are automated to refuel it and run diagnostics, Stephanie stops to give the bike a good personal going over.

Each step along the way was very meaningful for Stephanie Brown. Being treated like an ally but Batman and Robin. Being brought in on their identities. Training with them. Being trusted with the legacy of Batgirl. She'd had to earn each step, and even being given her first Batcycle had required numerous hours in the simulator, each watched from afar by Oracle until she was satisfied on Stephanie's competence with the bike.

Stephanie hasn't taken for granted what was so hard-earned, and though the Batcave can do most everything the bike needs for maintenance, she still checks everything herself. Finally she seems satisfied, wiping her gloves on a rag and heading for the Batcomputer and the studious person manning it. "Tell me we haven't run out of coffee, please?" she asks Dick as she heads over to get herself a cup.

Nightwing has posed:
There's no headshake or nod, but one arm extending out sideways to point at the coffee, without turning around. Yes, there is coffee: there it is.

A closer inspection reveals the Bat-suit is muddy and dusted in places with plaster, with a streak of something on the upper left pectoral that slightly mars the bat-emblem on the chest. 'Batman' was out, and hasn't cleaned up from it. Considering he was at the Watchtower for sure as well, that means he was also out on the street, too. It's a signal of the heavy activity going on. Even if he's being quiet about telling anyone.

"How was your patrol?" 'Batman' asks, while scrolling through pages on the right side of the monitors. It's flat, like the emotion got sucked out somewhere.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie gets a mug and pours herself some of the liquid caffeine. "Good. South Channel Island was quiet. No one has been making it out in a while but Ivy hasn't moved against those she has prisoner there. Checked in with the police there. And I think I made progress on the Electrocutioner. He's been making minor thefts, seemingly at random, but I think I might be on to what he's doing," she says.

Stephanie carries the cup of joe over to stand beside Dick. She glances at the huge monitors briefly, but her eyes quickly settle on Dick instead. "You look like you've been through a bit tonight. What happened?" she asks Dick.

Stephanie turns to lean back against a stretch of empty console, perching a cheek on it to support herself as she eyes Dick Grayson.

Nightwing has posed:
"A detour through Bludhaven," he answers, evenly, after a brief pause to sort out in his extremely cluttered thoughts what she's asking about. "Nightwing has abandoned them," he says, a flutter of frustration in his voice coming through. He's trying: boy, is he trying.

"And some are starting to notice. I'll need to figure something out." He looks at her, and pauses, "I will, though." There's immediate confidence there: a powerful exertion of prescene and will. He'll do it, and continue to shield the family from what he's trying to do. "Metropolis is in good condition, though."

And he's trying. But Dick is trying to not only be Batman, but Nightwing, a JLA member without any training filling in for a founder, and a responder to Metropolis to aid with Superman's loss. The suit hides all of it visually except for the facts. And those do add up.

"I appreciate you taking point with Ivy. Do you need another set of eyes on the Electrocutioner file?" Dick asks, pulling it up on top of everything else on the right side of his screens.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie's training in micro-expressions comes to mind. She still is poor at using that training reflexively, having to consciously make herself pay attention. The little signs of tension in Dick barely need the training to note though. And Stephanie knows Dick's mannerisms a little better than some might expect. Unless they were themselves observant about her.

"Nah, I think I got it. He's doing small-time stuff but I think I know what he's leading up to. If I need a hand I'll grab Carrie or Jason," she says. "You've got enough on your plate."

Stephanie glances up at the monitors. "Need us to cover for you somewhere else so you can go spend some Nightwing time? Or, maybe that other thing you need to do? The... ah, crap, I'm always forgetting the word," Stepahnie says, snapping her fingers as she tries to recall it.

"Oh yeah. Sleep."

Nightwing has posed:
"If one of you can spare a patrol through Bludhaven, that would be the most useful, at this point," Dick answers. He's relaxing a little bit: which means some of the attempt to be Batman while in the bat-suit is getting put to the wayside. And his more natural way of acting and speaking is coming through it, like a quiet creep of the tide coming in. "I did appear as Nightwing, but another one of us will suggest we are spreading across the territory now that Batman is back in Gotham." He pauses at her question about sleep.

"I'm all right there. But I don't think I have another patrol in me tonight, either," he says, though he takes that admission hard. He'd wanted to do it, 'needed' to do it.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie takes a long sip of her coffee. "You got it," she replies of the Bludhaven patrol. Stephanie sets down her cup to take a moment to stretch out her arms and back. It still amazes her how flexible her Batgirl armor is, fitting her better than her Spoiler costume ever did, yet providing armored protection she never had before.

She's taking the moment of stretching to further regard Dick as she does though. "So it's been a bit of a relief with... well, not exactly the kind of healing that I'd like to see Aetna including in the insurance plan... but I'll take it to have Bruce recover," she comments. The young woman's blue eyes regard Dick. "How've you been holding up on that? It isn't easy for me to see Bruce like that and... well, I'm not you. I can only imagine how tough it's been," she offers in a quiet, understanding tone meant to hopefully leave Dick feeling comfortable to talk. Talk about feelings. Yeah, good luck Steph.

Nightwing has posed:
The fronting for the family immediately comes up. Dick won't show the other bats any weakness here. He has to be strong for them. "Bruce is recovering very well, there's no reason to continue to worry there." Right. "And while all of this is a lot, once I've weathered the initial surge, it will all fall into place," he says, turning more fully towards Stephanie. He gets up, then, shutting off the screens related to the Justice League content. He doesn't need them worrying about more than they have to, not while he can protect them from it.

"I'm going to change out, and get a shower," Dick says, though it's not entirely dismissive. It is a dodge, though, away from 'talk about feelings'. At least for the moment. Or it has to do with some strange sensation that he can't do that while Batman. "Do me a favor, would you, and make another pot of coffee, unless you're done for today?" He asks, with a move of eyes across her armor. He isn't shutting her out, the request offers.

Spoiler has posed:
Dick asks her to make the coffee if she's not done already. "You bet. I'm here for you for the long haul, Dick," she tells him as she looks away to hide that the answer was not just applicable to coffee.

"Go get cleaned up. I wasn't going to comment on it, but..." Stephanie says and then gives a dramatic little sniff or two. Her eyes twinkle and Stephanie's lips quirk at the corners a bit as she teases the man half a dozen years her senior.

Stephanie hops up from where she was half-sitting on the console and moves over to start up the coffee. She'll wait until Dick is off dealing with his armor and the shower, before she settles in at the Batcomputer to begin checking on things. Making sure Dick isn't taking on more than he needs to, isn't hiding things that need dealing with rather than make the rest of the family have to handle them.

Nightwing has posed:
Dick absolutely is doing just that: both taking on things and hiding them: he's micromanaging all sorts of issues in Gotham alone. A quick scan of login times does have a gap at least: presumably Dick is sleeping, or just doing more things off the clock.

There's some time taken as he cleans up, the shower is a necessity and soothing physically, before Dick reappears. There's no brisk bounce to his step; he's a weary man, but is being carried well by willpower. Blue eyes are alert enough.

He's switched to black jeans and a soft light gray hoodie. His black hair is wet and mostly sleeked back, though it's starting to come forward in front as it dries in the air. The difference in appearance is massive from the bleak Batman cowl, but the behavior isn't. He returns to look at the screens, with a rueful sly smirk and a "Better?" in reference to his scent or appearance, since she'd teased him. He smells like his masculine soap and lightly of the herb arnica, likely used on bruises he's pretending he doesn't have. It has a sunflower type smell.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie Brown is productive with her time. Going through happenings and then sending out a few alerts to members of the team to take on a few things that from the look of it, Batman was going to handle by himself. She tries to be subtle about it. A comment added to a case file that is meant as a helpful bit of information, and references someone else on the team as being able to help, and then drawing them in with a suggestion they look into it. Enough that Dick can feel it is being addressed.

Will he see through it? Quite possibly. Especially after the third such time she does it. Subtlety and Steph are at best acquaintances, rarely friends.

The blonde looks up, her caffeine kicking in and helping fuel the bright smile that is shined at Dick on his return. "Much better. I was beginning to worry maybe you'd been replaced already," she teases as she spins the chair about to face him. "Is that some of that League of Assassins herbal medicine stuff? Damian gave me some of that after my... ah... that bad run in I had with Stockholm." Steph got severely beaten by Stockholm's henchmen one time when she had to act fast to safe a bank teller from being killed. "Except, I think he added a few other ingredients to make the scent FAR more memorable."

Nightwing has posed:
Dick doesn't notice any funny business yet: but he also hasn't sat down and worked through the cases and problems. Whether he catches her AND calls it out remains to be seen. For now he glances over the screens without really reading them, giving Stephanie more full attention. He deviates to the cofffee, setting out a mug, and pouring some, with some cream. He doesn't have some weird manliness to prove with taking it black.

"Not League of Assassins, no. This is it's old grandmother, before it was 'new and improved'," Dick answers with a chuckle. He draws one hand over his left forearm, an indication of where the bruise is. "Sometimes the old ways are best. And a reminder, to not autopilot through a patrol." He rejoins her, taking one of the chairs, his coffee steaming lightly.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie doesn't look up from the monitors as Dick comes over. "Mmm hmm," she intones at the mention of the healing balm's source. "Yeah," she murmurs about the old ways. A small nod and, "no autopiloting," she agrees without really seeming to be paying any attention as if she's just autopiloting through the computer work.

But then Dick is given a peek out of the corner of blue eyes, her cheeks get fuller as Stephanie's lips quirk with a bit of a grin for him. She turns to face him then, finally showing the attention she was giving him but pretending not to.

Stephanie leans back in the chair, hands meeting behind her head. "So much better," she judges of Dick now that he's cleaned up. She ends up looking away from the man slightly self-consciously after a bit though. "So you've done a really good job. I don't know if anyone has taken the time to mention that. I know how much has been on your plate," she tells him.

Nightwing has posed:
Dick lifted a brow at the back of her head as she pretends to ignore him, but didn't take offense about it; he lifted his coffee to enjoy it, and started to actually read the screens as well. So when she peeked at him, he had started to scan them. There was a moment of her being able to view his expression: just being pummeled by it all. Still pulling the weight, though. When he spots her peeking he smiles back at her: a quieter smile, not a roguish grin.

Only a brow shows a quirk of a silent 'what?'. "Mostly I have been told that I am not Batman," Dick says ruefully, taking a drink of his coffee to mask his expression about how great THAT has felt. "But that's to be expected. Still, someone has to do it."

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie has a pleased look as she manages the soft smile from Dick. It also makes her fidget, bumping the mouse and sending one of the windows careening across the monitor before she catches the little rodent-named I/O device and sets the screen aright.

Stephanie clears her throat and sits up a bit straighter in the chair. "Well, to be fair I'm sure he gets that a lot. 'You're not THE Batman though'," she says, voice making the latter part like she's imitating someone. "And then Bruce would be, you know. >BAM!< >POW!< And then they'd realize he really was the Batman. So maybe you just need to be more violent?" Stephanie suggests. She moves through some of the files, and a bio on Killer Croc comes up. She frowns a bit as she glances at the imagery. "And you held him off," she says, cringing at the very sight of him.

Stephanie leans back in the chair. "How've you been handling um... not the Bruce stuff, but, I know you were pretty close with... um, with, you know. With Superman?" she asks quietly.

Nightwing has posed:
The loss of mouse control gains some patience and little smirk: he waits for her to right things, and doesn't haul her over any teasing coals for it.

"That one did include some BAM POW," Dick says, his description of the sounds far more lackluster than Stephanie's, but there's amusement in his tone. She's brought the smile back out of the battered bird, even if it's not a high wattage. "Killer Croc did not comment about me not being THE Batman," he adds. "Easy to forget the wins, sometimes."

Dick also was looking at the images, but looks instead to Stephanie as she leans back. He does the other way, not leaning back in his chair but forward, one forearm arm on the console edge. The hoodie sleeve pulls up, revealing some bruise on that wrist.

"I've kept busy, honestly," Dick replies, with a heaviness about Superman. "I spoke to Green Lantern a little bit. I think they're avoiding the topic. It's hard for everybody."

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie motions towards Dick with both hands. "So you're obviously doing something when murder-lizards are fully accepting- wait is a crocodile a lizard? Murder-amphibians?" Stephanie queries, trying to figure out the biologically correct terminology. "ANYWAY. You're doing great," she concludes with a nod. Stephanie swivels a little bit in the chair again to face towards Dick more.

Her demeanor grows a little bit quieter as Dick's voice takes on that seriousness. "If... if there'd have been any other way," Stephanie says, her eyes staying away from Dick's, gaze lowered towards the keyboard. "I know how much he meant to you. I'd never actually met him before. I just... Dick I just wanted you to know I'm sorry. And if there's anything I can do," she says, her voice carrying a heavy amount of emotion in it, "Anything that would help? I'm here and... and.. I'm here," she says, stopping herself before she rambles further.

Nightwing has posed:
"Reptile," Dick answers, but it isn't 'correcting' in the same way Bruce does it. It's information, if she was curious: he isn't the type to require an essay about it just since she didn't know. Maybe he'll learn he has to make the others do that over time, but for now, it doesn't matter. Besides, it was something to say other than something emotional. Still, he gives her a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the support. It means a lot," Dick says. He does mean it, but there's an evasiveness there too. His feelings are buried. Deeply. Which means there's a bit of a surface smiling happening here.

Her words as she turns more towards him get a return of the smile. He's covering that deep wound for her sake. Maybe his own: to be good to her in this moment. "He still means a lot," Dick agrees. Still, that statement only scratches the surface of how he feels about it. It's almost what he's obligated to say. "I'll be all right," he says, moving a hand to set it at her shoulder. His palm is warm, his expression empathetic.

"And you guys /are/ here, making this whole thing work. /You/ are all doing great. Being here, and taking up anything I've asked of you," he says, with a soft squeeze of hand. A perk of grin appears, that flash of Nightwing charisma. It subconsciously asks her to go along with him, and stay out of the deep end of feelings. There's pain down there.

Spoiler has posed:
That flash of charisma has the same effect it has had on her since she was a teen. It makes her smile and look away, and it'll be easy to see how Dick has made the moment better for her with it. The distraction seems to work too, as Stephanie doesn't probe any deeper.

"So I was thinking maybe I'd go over and hit that dumpling place later. Are they open all night? Seems like they must be," Stephanie says finally. "You know the one I mean, in Chinatown with the chickens in the windows and everything?" she asks.

"I think some spicy mustard would do wonders for what this colder weather is doing to me. Though it's much better as Batgirl. It was tough enough for me to deal with putting one good costume together. Having one that worked in both summer and winter? Oof," Stephanie says softly, shaking her head.

Nightwing has posed:
"Reptile I know, hours of the dumpling place, sadly, I'd need to look up," Dick teases back, with a quiet laugh. He attempts to flip the side of her blonde hair as he draws his hand back from her shoulder. Sibling thing or flirtation? It could read as either, and the tiredness that shows when Dick looks to the screen masks which one it is.

"I should finish what I was doing, and get in some sleep," he says, unable to repress the workaholic in him to accept her subtle invitiation.

As always, Dick's personal life gets put down below work. Below justice. Particularly so when he's under the massive amount of pressure to exert Batman-level amounts of work and justice. "I prefer my Nightwing gear," Dick admits. "The Bat-cloaks aren't pleasant in the summer," he says, but his attention has gone to the computer, and the continued work that needs him.

Spoiler has posed:
In a corner of the monitor, a light flashes to indicate a disturbance. The text of a 911 call is displayed. Domestic disturbance it turns out to be. The Batcomputer plots the location and the distance of those on the team, as well as the police. A responding police unit is far closer. Without further manual input, the Batcomputer closes the intercept and files it away.

It's all taken in at a glance, which gives Dick ample time for the bat of Stephanie's hair. She twists her head to flash a little grin at him. "There's something about a cape though. I'm surprised they ever went out of fashion," Stephanie counters. "I mean, what other article of clothing can you readily whip off to cover a mud puddle for your lady? Not to mention the way they look when you're moving. It's like having those little lines in comics panels that indicate motion," the younger blond says.

Stephanie lifts her eyes to glance backup to Dick. "Sleep's good. Food too though. When's the last time you ate?" she asks him. "And I don't mean nutrient paste smeared on a high-protein cracker, either."

Nightwing has posed:
"I /like/ my crackers," Dick answers with fake dismay. He doesn't.

"Batman doesn't eat," Dick says in a deeper tone, leaning in towards her as if to convey secret information, touching the back of her chair briefly to do so. Had he the suit on and the voice modulator, it would have been a great impression. As is? He's too smirky about it.

"I did eat at the Justice League's Watchtower. So, Batman /does/ eat. When he's me." Dick smiles but it doesn't go into his eyes. He's failing as Batman. He knows it. "Tell you what. We'll find a breakfast thing to do sometime. All right?" he suggests. "Go have dumplings. Post them on social media like a normal girl. I'll live vicariously through you."

Spoiler has posed:
The warm laugh that results would tell the lie of Dick's cracker comment even if his own voice doesn't. No one likes those crackers. Probably not even Bruce. "Those crackers aren't sustenance. They are penance," Stephanie answers, eyes on the monitor and the 911 call until it has cleared off the screen.

At the offer of breakfast, Stephanie's eyes peek over, looking out of the corners at him. "I'm going to hold you to that," she tells him. "Though the notion of you living vicariously through me is like Tony Stark living vicariously through Captain America. What's next, post some pictures of my quilting for you to jones off of?" she asks in a light-hearted voice.

Stephanie holds up a hand in admonishment. "I don't quilt," she clarifies before he can comment. Though her inner voice manages to sneak, "Not cool enough for the quilters to let me in the club," out past her lips before she can stop it.

Stephanie clears her throat. "You know, I think you hit the nail on the head though," she says. "Batman is you, Dick. That's how it should be. Not the other way around."