11994/Come with Me if you want him to Live

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Come with Me if you want him to Live
Date of Scene: 13 August 2020
Location: Dazzler's Changing Room
Synopsis: Alison Blair makes a leap of faith to save another hero
Cast of Characters: Nightwing, Dazzler




Nightwing has posed:
    Her dressing room is dark, darker than usual. Nothing unnatural, just dark. The curtains are carefully drawn and no light seems to really be entering. Nightwing already broke in and loosened all the light bulbs. Sometimes low tech is the best tech. As far as Nightwing is concerned, this is a little creepy. He's snuck into the Dazzler's changing room. He's going to have to not let her have much time unless he wants to see more than he came to see. While it might be nice, that isn't what this is about.

    He doesn't give her much time, once she steps in through the door, waiting only for it to shut. From the shadows, his low voice says, "Don't shoot. I am not here to hurt you." There is a pause, and the same voice adds, "Which admittedly what someone who is here to hurt you would probably say. Still, don't shoot. I'm Nightwing, and we need your help to save a life. The we being the Justice League."

    Again, there is a pause to let that sink in. "I'm going to reach up and screw this light bulb back in. That will light me up. I again ask that you don't light me up. We need your help, it's important, and it is an issue of some delicacy." The dresser light comes on, and Nightwing slowly lowers his hand from the bulb to rest it over his head just like the other one is. It is very much the classic 'I surrender' gesture.

Dazzler has posed:
    Dazzler has been spending time at a rented hall to polish her act. After all, when you're opening for Andrea Jackson (whose third album: Neon Dreams, peaked at #4 on the US Top 100...), you need to be on your toes. Former pop-icon or not.

    The light goes on, and Nightwing comes face-to-face with a blonde wearing an over-sized T-shirt that's askew to show a blue sports bra and yoga pants beneath. She's taller than he is, probably because of the roller skates, her hair is pulled into a ponytail and her expression is a practiced 'neutral' game face. She is pointing her right hand at him, two fingers out and thumb held back in a classic 'finger gun' pose.

    It would be comical if it was anyone but Dazzler.

    "Jersey's on the other side of the river." she begins, not lowering her fingers. "And I'm guessing you're not here for an autograph. But it's ballsy of you to crash into my dressing room, *especially* after I'm juiced up from a 3 hour practice, and you're not one to take unnecessary risks." Her hand lowers and her fingers relax. "What's on your mind?"

Nightwing has posed:
    "It is." Nightwing responds. He still keeps his hands, as yet, where she can see him. "I needed to speak with you privately, and I honestly try to avoid too much light. I would not be here if it was not important. So important that I am not sure I can really tell you anything."

    Nightwing pulls in a really long breath. "I need to basically ask you, never having met me, to let me blindfold you, drive you to an undisclosed location, where no one will know where you are, to do something to save the life of a very important person. So important, really, that if people knew he or she was currently down there might be global issues." There are not too many people who are that important, so it in and of itself is a clue.

    Nightwing allows what he is asking to sink in. "I know it is ridiculous. All I can say is that we need a sound dampener of extraordinary capabilities. We have to use some sonics that could cause permanent damage to the person we need to save. You fit the bill. There are not many. It might have been smarter to just gas you and throw you in a bag. I didn't want to do that." his mask remains trained on her. He slowly starts to lower his hands. "I expect you have questions. I will answer them. I am asking for you to trust a stranger to save a life you have not met. I appreciate the absurdity of our situation." His tone is grave and yet tinged with a certain dark humor. "The fact I am standing here knowing you can reduce me to a grease spot has to mean something."

Dazzler has posed:
    Alison listens. He's good at reading body language, and even though she's lowered her hand the woman has the stance of a gladiator. On rollerskates. As he talks, however, her stance shifts ever so slightly. Not exactly relaxing, but the tension leaves her. Probably some of the adrenaline of the practice as well.

    "It wasn't all that long ago I would've shot first and asked questions later, Nightwing. That's a big part of why I got out of show business." Dazzler replies. "But this was the smarter choice, believe me. And no first responders need to be involved."

    Her stance shifts again, the blonde bending low to reach for her skates. "My first question is probably the least obvious, since you're not a woman: do I have time for a shower? But before that, I want some assurances. How do I know that you're really Nightwing?"

    If he's paying attention, she isn't making much progress unlacing the skates. A blinding flash of light fills the room, more than enough to saturate any night vision equipment and leave unprotected eyes feel like they've just had a retinal exam. In that instant Dazzler rolls to one side and comes up in a shooter's stance.

Nightwing has posed:
    Nightwing twitches. He starts as if to roll to the side. It's a trained reaction. He's honed himself to be a warrior, and to be smart.

    Batman, though, has drilled into his head that he needs to put the mission first. Always.

    So. After flinching, he remains still. His eyes are seeing spots. He's disoriented. He is utterly at her mercy. Taking a moment, he finally deadpans. "Ow." His tone modulated. "I am going to slide this hand over." He starts to do so. His right hand moving to his left gauntlet. "I am going to pop this open." He slowly opens a trim compartment in the gauntlet. "I have to snap it open. Don't shoot." He pivots his hand and there is a snap. The batarang swings open in his hand. Still seeing spots, Nightwing says, "I am going to drop it at my feet and then take a step to my left so you can grab it without fear of being struck. Is a batarang enough proof of my identity, or do I need to throw it, Miss Blair?"

    Throughout, his tone is controlled, and other than having to suppress himself from dodging and moving, his movements are slow.

Dazzler has posed:
    Okay, he's in complete control of his reactions. Points for that, at least. Alison rises slowly, using the toe bumper of one skate to hold position. "Do you know how many of those things litter Gotham, Nightwing?" she asks calmly.

    "Throw it. Hit my shoulder. I deserve that for blinding you, at the very least." Dazzler also knows that if he were REALLY one of the Bats, he could hit her in the dark just from the sound of her voice.

Nightwing has posed:
    He's a blur. She's seen Nightcrawler move. The blue fuzzy elf is superhumanly quick and agile. Nightwing cannot quite match that. He is fluid as it gets though He sweeps his left foot out, kicking the batarang up into his hand. With a flick of his wrist, the batarang blurs in his hand and thwipts out with a quick spin towards her shoulder. It's not a hard throw, but still it's a good one.

    He does not stop there though, as his left eskrima stick is in his hand, and it arcs out, to strike the batarang as it tumbles away from Alison. The stick strikes it, making the batarang bounce off Alison again before landing on the ground. The stick, meanwhile bounces off the batarang and back into Nightwing's hand and he smoothly stows it on his back.

    "Should I do a little dance? Carry you aloft on a swingline? Perhaps you want a psychological profile of the Joker?" his tone is still controlled, but there is this amused snark to it.

Dazzler has posed:
    Alison blinks, and assuming he can see her eyes at this point it's a pretty obvious thing. To her credit, Dazzler manages to raise a luminous halo of body-armor. Okay, so it's right about the time he knocks the batarang aside with the escrima stick anyway. It would've been close.

    Dazzler laughs, then bends to start untying her skates for real this time. "Okay, so you're the real deal. And this is gonna cost you a motorcycle ride." One skate is off. Clunk. "Meaning I take your *best* racing bike for a spin." Clunk. The other skate follows, and Alison is a few inches shorter, wiggling toes in her socks.

    She regards him more closely, then, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "So let's get back to the part where I have a lot of questions and you swear me to secrecy. Which isn't going to be a problem, by the way. Who are we talking about and what is it exactly that you need me to do?"

Nightwing has posed:
    "You can ride your pick." Nightwing answers without a pause. He observes. "I'll tell you everything except where we are going once we are in the car and your wearing the helmet so you can't see. No secrets beyond the obvious stuff. It isn't that I do not trust you. It is just that this is so important I cannot risk the unlikely situation that you are kidnapped and tortured before we accomplish our task." Nightwing lays it out. "We have time for you to shower and get dressed. I will wait out here and then I will take you to the Batmobile." His lips quirk. "It's not one of my bikes, but it is plenty fast. Once we are there and you are secured I will tell you whose life I need you to save. Once I tell you, well, you will appreciate the situation."

    The confidence and the resoluteness never leaves him. Still, he gestures almost apologetically with his left hand. "I can be trusted. Trust me. I am not a metahuman like your allies with the X-Men. I can't rip through a car with inexplicably sharp claws or be a flying ginger, but I have my talents. I promise you, it is worth it." He is still observing her, but he is not staring.

Dazzler has posed:
    Alison steps slowly back, crossing her arms and peeling off the t-shirt. The sports bra was already half-visible anyway. "I've already promised you secrecy and I'll do it again, Nightwing. But I also understand what you're saying." The socks follow, and she leaves them in a pile with the t-shirt.

    "It's also good that you know of my friends. Because if I'm away for too long without checking in, the person at the head of the rescue party will be a telepath." She pauses a moment, then adds. "And none of your secrecy will be worth a crap at that point."

    Alison gestures towards the bathroom, picking up a duffel bag to take with her. After a moment she rifles around and sets her phone on the makeup table outside, giving him a knowing look.

    "I'll be a few minutes. A girl needs to look decent if she's going to save somebody so important."

Nightwing has posed:
    Where was half naked Alison Blair before Nightwing was monogamous? The mask is really handy for hiding eyes; it is as if that is what it was made for. Inwardly he updates his psychological profile of her; she's stronger than he thought. Lesson learned. "You will be in one of the most secure places on the planet. You will be safe, and your telepath friend will not have to melt my mind until it comes out my ears. I am not here to abscond with you. I promise."

    When she gets out of the shower, she is treated to a swingline ride out to the secured batmobile. Once he has the entertainer and heroine buckled in and secured in a helmet and a blindfold, the engine roars to life. Activating some electronic countermeasures, Nightwing speaks, very quietly.

    "Superman needs you, Alison Blair." The batmobile roars off at breakneck speeds, engine roaring and the black clad vehicle quickly leaving the scene behind.