11981/Barehanded

Barehanded
Date of Scene:	11 August 2020
Location:	Batcave - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Batman and Superman discuss Superman's fungus infestation.
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Superman

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Batman has posed:
    In the depths of the Batcave time seems to lose its bite in some ways. It flows at its own pace and for Bruce Wayne at least, the hours and days can be stolen from him with barely a notice. A glance up and days have passed. A distant sound and he'll look over to see a cup of tea has magically appeared. Only a few individuals have witnessed the phenomenon and after the last handful of days...
    Kal-El is one of them.
    Though for him the experience might be different. With the torment of the alien fungus upon his arm, the alternating treatment of cold and sonic application. The times when they must push one way or another for his stability. He'll be witness there as Batman spends hours in the isolation booth with that large window revealing the man curved over the data display before him.
    Sometimes he makes a sound. Sometimes he even says something.
    Though finally, after a seven hour session, the man looks up. His cowl is off and hanging over his back. His brow is furrowed, then he addresses his patient with a low rumbled.
    "So all of this could have been avoided. If you wore gloves." Flat. The words are delivered in that low steady tone. No inflection nor hint to emotion. But with Clark's super sensitive hearing he might catch the hint of... incredulity?

Superman has posed:
Many of Clark's abilities are dampered or removed, and it seems to vary. Tests reveal that during specific treatments of cold, that Clark's strength is a little more evident. It's still within expected human levels, true, but it's more than a human /with an alien thing making him weak/ should be doing. Subtle difference.

Over time, staying in the dark isolation room has also kept things from escalating: but lacking a good power source from the sun, Clark isn't recovering as he should either. While Clark isn't as tasty a lunch, the monster stuck to him is also in limbo.

"I was in my secret identity ... and honestly, I don't remember touching it in the first place. I remember someone needing help, and I just... was at the hospital," Clark explains.

His footage on his phone agrees with this: he and Lois were investigating some weirdly mind-controlled people trying to plant the fluffy white things in a Metropolis park. Strange 'cult' with a wide variety involved, with shovels and satchels containing the fluffy white alien 'seeds'. There was footage of them digging holes and acting like zombies. No footage of Clark himself being caught, but then, he wasn't in a state to be taking phone video at that point.

Clark's arm is better - in that the monster has swollen up to about double in size, but isn't burrowing deeper into Clark's arm. It just is starting to churn with eerie, strange spores inside it, like a balloon. It doesn't look pleasant.

Batman has posed:
    The answer from Bruce is a slow nod as he frowns, looking down at the monitor before him. There's a movement of his arm as he keys in a few options and then with a grimace, and a rare display of frustration... he swipes his hand across the screen's display and wipes it all away.
    Brow furrowed he remains there, looking down, then up with that same narrowed gaze. "With what we have on hand we are slowly losing ground." That's what bothered him. The math. It doesn't lie.
    "I have assets out acquiring resources that might help us. But I don't think they'll be enough." He rises to his feet and rests his hands upon the desk, shoulders partially hunched. "There's a call out to the League. I feel like there is something more we could be doing."

Superman has posed:
"What we have on hand," Clark echoes, in a quiet, thoughtful way. It's not really funny, but sometimes injecting a little bit of humor can help with a dour situation. "My coworker is going to think I was abducted by an evil government lab to be tested on," Clark adds, with quiet dismay. It's better than her knowing the truth, of course, but still. He doesn't like it when Lois has to suffer.

"I'm glad to be able to think and talk to you again. Is there anything else I can do? Other than continue to attempt to resist mind control?" Clark questions, shifting to sit up a little more.

Batman has posed:
    At Clark's quip, Bruce's eyes narrow. But grudgingly. Very grudgingly his lip twists as a breath escapes his nose. A breath that causes him to close his eyes and shake his head slightly as a small turn to the corner of his mouth threatens to become a smile. Then his eyes open with him looking at the ceiling of their isolation chamber and he shakes his head. Now with a smile.
    "I'm sure your coworker has gotten used to a lot of tardiness and strange absences from you." He looks down then, catching Clark again in his gaze and still smiling a little. But yes, grudgingly so.
    Then he steps from the console and moves to the airlock door which whispers open quietly, letting him in as the air is cycled. Then he's allowed into Clark's chamber. Still wearing the same uniform as the night he arrived, and now showing quite a bit of stubble on his features, the man who would be Bat steps in and pulls up one of the wheeled stools and settles onto it beside Clark's gurney.
    "I'd offer to get you a magazine but you should probably focus on resisting the mind control." Those last few words said with some seriousness as well as weariness.

Superman has posed:
"Yes," Clark answers grudgingly, "But normally not vanishing from a hospital bed while being dissolved by an alien." A pause. "Not normally." He's joking; this hasn't happened, but some of this is all just for his own sanity, his own concerns about not just his own wellbeing, but if he loses control again. The fungus having control over him is a lot worse than being trapped in the bed.

Clark has his share of stubble as well: nobody's shaving him; there's priorities. It might be a surprise to know that Clark does grow facial hair, in fact. He has his special ways of dealing with that.

"While it's very cold, I don't think it pushes on me very much: it seems to go dormant." That's just miserable and freezing, but Clark doesn't complain. "The sonics... give it pain. I wish J'onn J'onn was responding. Supergirl also had a link to a mentalist, but having a strange telepath in any of our heads is... not the best, I'm sure you can agree." JLA have secrets.

"I'm sorry to have intruded on your cave. I wasn't thinking clearly. I think I thought about... a place to contain this, that also would restrict my exposure to the sun."

Batman has posed:
    Leaning forward in that chair, Bruce rests his arms upon his knees, brow furrowing as he watches Clark and listens to the words given. His breath mists as he watches the Kryptonian and nods slowly. "Precautions can be taken." He says in that low tone, answering about the idea of having telepaths in the cave and so not ruling it out. Though what those precautions may be he offers no insight.
    Instead he looks to the door that leads to the elevator and the Batcave proper, then returns his blue eyes to the other hero. "You know you are welcome here, Kal." A beat as his tone eases a little. A hint more of Bruce than of Batman. Then he says with a sardonic smile. "Just usually I'd prefer more of a heads up." He exhales a breath again slightly. What would not really be a laugh, not even a heh. More just a sound akin to those things.
    Then he adds as his eyes distance. "You picked a good time for it though. Gotham and Metropolis are quiet." Which is a lie. Gotham is never quiet. Perhaps knowing that if he were in such a place as Clark... his thoughts would be on what is happening while he's absent.

Superman has posed:
"Yes. Normally I'd have done that, were it within my ability," Clark apologizes. He knows not to come into Gotham in general, as well. There's a respect to staying clear of the Batman's city. "I do know how you feel about unexpected guests." Clark's smile grows, and he shifts uncomfortably, trying to suppress it from reaching his face. He has a will of steel, but this is a lot to take, even so.

"I'm glad to hear Metropolis is quiet, though these aliens..." Clark gestures to his alien buddy, "Started quiet two years ago. This can't possibly be the only one. I touched them then, and didn't have this ... issue." He couldn't have known that the enemy changed their tune. "Though those were frozen before I crushed them, to be clear."

Clark closes his eyes for a time, brows furrowed. "I only hope having it here can give us more information. Learn more about it." That something good can come out of this awful infestation.

Batman has posed:
    "I believe some labs have been doing research." Batman says as he looks again, eyes drifting to the pulsating mass on Clark's arm and frowns. "I'll delve further and see what I can turn up." Whether they want him to or not.
    He looks back towards Clark and then says steadily. "If they come back as a threat we'll handle it." Bruce's thoughts cause him to look to the side for a brief moment before he looks back. Then he straightens up and frowns. Shaking his head slowly at some unvoiced thought.
    Until finally he lifts his head. "Is there anything you need from your home?" A beat, then he adds. "Either of them." Meaning the one in Metropolis... and the one far to the North. "I'll head out there. Or I'll send Dick." His lip twists again slightly. Guard being let down faintly with them being the only ones there.

Superman has posed:
"No. I believe you have access to anything that could help me, at this point. And while I'd appreciate a visit from Supergirl, I... don't want her infected by this," Clark says, his voice more quiet. One sapped Kryptonian is more than enough. Perhaps part of him retreated to protect her, subconsciously. It would certainly fit.

"I'm trying to not use any ability ... save my energy in case I need it. I suspect I might be able to still fly a little, but that might be it." So Bruce knows what Superman has to offer. Not much.

"One more thing. The mental pressure is different. It isn't pushing and insisting to bury it anymore. But they were a hive-mind before. It could mean it's severed."

Batman has posed:
    A nod is given as Bruce watches and listens to Clark. Everything being said makes sense and it doesn't change the variables. It gives explanation, reason, but what they're dealing with still fits the timeline he's outlined and it does not sit well with him. He frowns.
    His brow beetles as he then looks over at Clark and if he can't solve the whole problem, can't solve the pertinent facets of it. Then he can at least compartmentalize, separate, and solve the aspects right in front of his face. For now at least.
    "Whatever happens, you need a shave." That's said sternly, almost admonishingly as if Superman could have done something about it. But then he rubs his jawline and grimaces, "So do I."
    He pushes up from that seat and starts toward the exterior airlock, resting a hand on the sensor pad to key it to opening as he looks to the side over his shoulder. "I'll bring an electric razor down. Or if that won't work maybe some hedge clippers."
    Hah.
    "Try not to go anywhere." The door whispers open after a faint beep.

Superman has posed:
"I might look good with a beard, we can find out," Clark says with a brief smile. "I'd appreciate another soup, though. Please extend my thanks to Alfred; the split pea was a piece of home." A bit of home in this very dark, freezing, and noisy cave, in isolation.

"I'll do what I can," Clark agrees firmly. He'll try to stay. If he has control over that.