2876/A Little Birdie Told Me...

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A Little Birdie Told Me...
Date of Scene: 16 October 2017
Location: Bludhaven, Dick's Apartment
Synopsis: Contracting Shivonic Plague is nothing to to joke about!
Cast of Characters: Nightwing, Oracle




Nightwing has posed:
    The apartment under the one that's rented to Dick Grayson is officially vacant. No tenant has been signed up to it and most of the time it remains dimmed, no hints of lights or activity at all. The land lord might have some insight into the matter, but he was offered a rather fine deal for the building when young master Grayson had taken up residence, and for whatever reason the new owner felt it was alright for the tenant on the top floor to do some work on the lower apartment.
    Work like getting it connected to the upstairs apartment by a spiral staircase. Work like adjusting the studio layout of the place to be one single large room with shades drawn across the walls of windows. And work like putting in a reinforced floor to support the various training and acrobatic equipment that had to be installed. It created a rather terrible apartment all told, but a perfect gymnasium for when Dick Grayson had some spare time.
    Which... was never. No hours off, only borrowed is the mantra. What time he takes from one thing is always paid back. And with how things have gone lately he can't think about skipping training, can't think about letting himself lose a step. So tonight, in the early evening before Nightwing heads off into the night, he's already loosening up and exercising. Standing in front of a shaolin practice dummy, its wooden limbs jutting out towards the young man in the sweats and t-shirt, Dick Grayson focuses on the seventeen strikes of Shaolin, slamming the dummy with his elbow, his forearm, his fist, the edge of his hand. The contacts sounding sharp and hard, occasionally firing a low kick into one of the low limbs, sending the thing spinning.
    All before 'breakfast'.

Oracle has posed:
She assumes that in the time he's had up here in Bludhaven, at the very least he's secured his building enough that it will be safe. Paranoia on that front is something of a given. Although she has no idea at this point WHAT he has rigged up -- someone in the Cave might have told her, had she asked, but ... no. Instead of showing up in his city already dressed for a battle, Barbara drives up in civvies this time. She does, however, give him the courtesy of a call before she shows up on his doorstep. 30 seconds isn't *much* notice, but the text did go!! ~~I have a food delivery from Alfred, but you only get it if you open the door. Otherwise, I'm keeping it all for myself.~~

Security cameras will definitely show the tall redhead standing in the hallway of his apartment building, seemingly at ease.

Nightwing has posed:
    The phone hummed, buzzing to the side as he stopped what he was doing and stepped to the side. A few strides to the window sill where he flips open the phone and peers at the message, then keys through some of the displays. He smirks a little and then walks over towards the door, footsteps easy going even as he grabs a towel off a rack and dabs at his brow with it.
    A few moments later and the door opens, allowing her entry to the second story gym apartment, even as he steps back and waves her inside. "Heya, Babs. Wasn't expecting you back so soon." The door closes behind her. A brief embrace, a kiss to the cheek in greeting before he'll head on back over towards the dummy, since well... can't really spare the time.

Oracle has posed:
"I wasn't expecting to *be* back so soon," Barbara admits. Although she tips her cheek upward for that light kiss, the one-armed hug she gives him -- a bag of food does indeed rest over her other arm -- is tense. She brings the bag in, set the bag up against the wall of the empty apartment along with her coat as if she belongs in his space, then follows him on quiet feet. She's wearing leggings and loose tunic-style T-shirt, ballet flats on her feet keeping her footsteps nearly silent. When he resumes his pose in front of the practice dummy, she stops near one of the windows where she can watch him and crosses her arms over her chest.

"You left a few things out the other night... wanna fill me in yourself on this situation with Shiva? Or would you rather I shut up, stay in the dark, and just go back to Gotham?" She pauses a beat and says quietly, "It's been a long time, and you don't owe me anything. But I would like to understand why you're hell-bent on doing it all, every bit of it, alone."

Nightwing has posed:
    As she broaches that topic, Dick's eyes widen as his brows lift. He can probably imagine who told her. But it's not unfair of her to ask these questions even as he throws a few more punches and then a knee into the dummy, causing it to jolt and shake with each /thud/ into the hard wood. He for a time doesn't look at her as he goes through that sequence. "I've got it under control."
    Of course he says that, says it that particular way. It's always been the way with the Batman, juggling a million balls in the air and keeping track of them. Dick's just... doing his own thing in a similar way. But then when it becomes clear she's not going to accept that answer he stops and leans against the dummy, forearm upon one of those extended limbs. "Alright look," He starts, glancing down then back up at her. "About a month and some change ago Shiva confronted me. You know her M.O., she picks fights with promising opponents and kills them. When she did, I was on my way to busting a human trafficking ring and time was exceedingly an issue."
    He pushes away from that practice area and picks up the spritz bottle of water on the window sill, tilting it back and taking a few swallows. Then he wipes his mouth with his forearm and tells her, "I did what I had to to save those people. I made a deal with her. She agreed. So she came with me, helped me bust up that ring, we saved twenty five people."
    He lifts a hand, fingers flaring. "But now I have a date with her in a little less than eleven months. So I have been training, and need to keep that up."

Oracle has posed:
Her eyes take in his form and motion with an expert eye. They've both trained for too long not to automatically assess the form of someone who is practicing, ever looking for ways to improve. Barbara nods slightly when he says he has it under control, giving him the space to either open up or tell her specifically that it's all he's going to say on the matter.

When he does pause in his motion, her green eyes on him are level, curious, and definitely concerned -- but what they're not is accusing. She doesn't seem to want to push him. She listens to the explanation, her head tilted as he gives the details. "So... who are you training *with*," she asks calmly. "We both know you're good, Dick. Maybe you *are* at her level, I guess I haven't been around enough to know lately."

She prowls his gym with deliberate steps, her arms still crossed as she circles the place restlessly. "If you're not going to tell Bruce and you're not going to let Damian help you either... I want to know you're bringing in _someone_ to train with who's going to make sure you survive this." It's only then that she looks at him and meets his blue eyes, very real fear in them for him.

Nightwing has posed:
    And again she comes upon yet another thing he hasn't told Batman about. He lifts a hand and waves it to the side, fingers flaring as if he were trying to brush the words away. But the other hand rubs at the back of his neck. "Not training with anyone. Directly. Or any one person. Nobody operates at Shiva's level. Nobody we know really. I need to look inward. But hey, if you see Richard Dragon running around let me know."
    There's a moment where his lip curls slightly, as if trying to make light of the moment, but knowing it most likely won't take with her.
    Still he turns away to lean on the window sill, his back to the roman blinds that block the place from the view of the city. "I've been using some of the Bat Computer's simuations but I've exhausted the catalogue. But I feel like... I got myself into this, I can get myself out."

Oracle has posed:
It's then that she sighs heavily. The set to her chin is firm, as if she's perhaps struggling to choose the right words. "Just because Bruce is occasionally too stubborn to ask anyone for help doesn't mean the rest of us have to be. *I* don't have the slightest idea how to reach Richard Dragon, but you know sure as God made little green apples on this earth that Bruce does."

Her arms uncross and she pads on those quiet shoes to stand in front of him, not invading his personal space but close. "You know... I don't want you to talk to him because I think you can't handle yourself," Barbara says quietly. "We all need people -- none of us got where we are alone. I just don't want to watch you get killed because you're trying to ... I don't know. Prove you don't need anyone?" She studies his face intently, uncertain if anything she says will make a difference anyway. "Whether you need us or not? I have to tell you... we still need you."

Nightwing has posed:
    "No, I know." Dick looks to the side, "And really I should tell him, I've been meaning to." Which, is true to be fair, but something always comes up. Time is always at a premium for vigilantes. He doesn't seem to mind that she's wandered closer, but he's not exactly being too terribly approachable, the agitation in his manner clear as his brow furrows and he looks to the side. "I don't feel bad about making this decision or this bargain..."
    A tilt back and he smiles, "I mean really, we all would make that trade. Our lives for twenty five others? Yeah."
    But then he pushes himself up to his feet and takes another punch at the dummy that causes it to rock on its base. "I have time, though."

Oracle has posed:
Barbara smiles a bit. "Hell yes. There was no way to walk away from that," she agrees instantly. She wouldn't have either. When he moves to push off the windowsill, she moves out of his way and watches him hit the dummy again. "You do," she agrees again when he says he has time. "I'm glad it's not imminent. Damian .... well, you know how he gets. He's worried about you and it freaks him out, so now he's mad that you won't let him help." Right, because she wasn't kind of freaking out too over the idea. Damian didn't so much helpfully give her a time frame.

"So... what can I do to help you with it? If you let me wring my hands for 11 months... I can't promise that I won't go all redheaded crazy woman on you." The comment is made with a tone that suggests her tongue is firmly lodged in her cheek, but she still can't hide from her eyes the kind of fear that Shiva sends down her spine. That the woman thinks Dick is a worthy opponent? That's .... more than amazing. That the reality of it is she comes in with the intent to kill? Utterly terrifying.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Yah, Damian." Nightwing shakes his head and steps around to the other side of the dummy, leaning against it with both arms and looking across the way at her. "I wasn't going to tell him in part because I don't want him going back into that world again, making those contacts, making him rethink about the effectiveness of our tactics as opposed to those assassin jerks."
    He takes a breath and frowns, meeting her eyes as she asks how she can help. "I don't know, Babs. But feel free to devote some of your prodigious brain power to solving it." He shakes his head, "I am not so arrogant that I think if I can't come up with a solution someone else can't. I could be missing something obvious here."

Oracle has posed:
Finally, finally, her body language eases. Her shoulders drop just that fraction that echoes the relief that also shows in her expression. "Arrogant... is perhaps not the right word. Every child wants to prove to their guardian that they're old enough to handle their own problems," Barbara replies with a philosophical shrug. But now that he's at least talking about it and there *is* some time to work it out... something's gotta give, right?

"If it were obvious, you wouldn't be missing it," she points out absently, as if it's a given that he would have already solved the problem. "You and Bruce... always five steps ahead of everyone, never missing a detail -- that's why she scares the crap out of me. She's one of the few who I'm not even *entirely* sure Bruce can beat." Although it's heresy to say THAT out loud.

As she resumes walking circles around his gym, she does point out, "You're going to lose several months in the police academy -- there are not enough hours in the day for the academy, training, patrolling, *and* getting enough sleep that you're not hallucinating." She pivots on a heel. "When you go in, let me take on some of the patrol nights. You can take those nights just for training and I'll handle the streets here. If I can't do it alone, I'll pull in... one of the Robins or Huntress or someone to come up and help."

Nightwing has posed:
    Arms folding over his chest, Dick looks to the side and she can tell that he is giving it more intensive thought. Though the night after the event he spent most of the rest of the evening trying to figure out a way out, or a path to success. But with Shiva, there's no clear way, and no sure thing. Yet he considers her words and weighs then, shaking his head. "To be fair..."
    A pause as he pushes away, arms still folded and his gaze distant. "I am not sure if I should just continue with life as normal. Ignoring it and putting it off distantly." Then he turns back towards her, "I should probably put off the academy until afterwards. My reasons for doing it are strong, but it might not be a bridge too far considering everything."
    That said he plants an arm on the balance beam that has been finagled to leading up to a set of uneven bars, and in turn towards a pair of rings that are a bit higher up into the rafters a touch further than they should be. He looks across the way at her as he pulls himself up to sit on the edge of that balance beam, leaning to the side slightly. "But shouldn't pull anyone up here off their normal duties."

Oracle has posed:
Thoughtfully, Barbara keeps moving on the floor. For him to take to the air like that means his brain is once more working at light-speed going through options and possibilities. She looks straight up at him and gives him The Face -- you know. That one. Her light brows shoot to her hairline as her eyes open wide for a moment and then her brows pull downward quite far, and she plants her hands on her hips. Serious scowl-face here!

"It's your choice on whether you're going to give up what you want and turn into Bruce for a year." The eyeroll accompanying those words is not actually physically accomplished -- it's merely evident in the words. "It's not PULLING anyone from anything. It's trusting us to have your back when you need it."

It might be funny to see her fuming at him a little bit from the floor. She could follow him up there. She's perfectly capable, though it's not ingrained in her DNA as it is with him. But she doesn't follow him up the rigging. Instead, she tells him, "I can't tell you what to do. I'm not the boss of you and I get no say over your actions. I'm *not* telling Bruce this either." She's always kept his confidences, even when they were stupid. "Think on what you need from me *and* from the others, though. Anything you need, I will do." It's that simple. "In the meantime... you better expect me up here a couple times a week to get beaten upon... or beat upon you." Because she's NOT going to let him train alone. If it means she has to be his workout dummy to do it, she will.

Nightwing has posed:
    Crossing over and turning he flips forwards and catches himself with one hand, balancing there even as his shirt and sweatpants ride up upon his frame, even as he holds himself there. Then he slowly walks over and starts to step across the thinner uneven bars. His gaze is distanced, his thoughts clearly churning. But then she starts to lay out her plans and he smiles a little, even as he twists and scissors his legs up and over to catch the other bar and hold himself there...
    Then floompfs over to hang upside down as he talks to her. "I'll tell Bruce. I promise. I'll also take steps to get better training in some way. I also do think I'll need to make a decision on the Academy. But you don't need to come up here and treat me like I've suddenly taken ill with Shivonic Plague." That said he smirks at her and spreads his hands, "Not to say I'd object to your coming up now and then. Just for now... it's not that big of a deal. Alright?"
    And whether she agrees with him or not he kicks his legs once to let him flip back up, twisting to his feet as he makes the short hop to the rings, catching them, swirling around on them, then letting go in mid-air to land with a /thud./
    Back towards her he says, "So are we good, or you still have a mad on?"

Oracle has posed:
Barbara huffs grudgingly up at him. Shivonic Plague is actually funny -- he can see her lips quirk when he says it, because well... when has she ever been able to keep a mad-on at him?? The fact that he can talk between all those loops, twirls, and flips? It's that ease she's never quite mastered, even with dance and gymnastics behind her, and she both admires and envies him in the air. He should have been born with wings she sometimes thought.

She waits on the floor, safely out of range for a landing wherever he's going to drop one, and when he finally does, she retorts, "When have I ever been able to stay annoyed at you?" This time the eyeroll is obvious. "You're lucky I had a long drive. I really *was* mad when I left Gotham. Not that I have any right to be, but... " She grins a little. "And a little freaked out. The brat didn't tell me it was a year away."

Pulling in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, Barbara finally nods. "All right. I didn't even yell!" she points out as if this is definitely something he should compliment here. She really wanted to! And with a smile that softens the lines stress, she adds, "And I really did bring food from Alfred. So since you're being all reasonable and stuff, I won't take it back with me and deprive you."

Nightwing has posed:
    "Ah," Dick says as he rolls a shoulder, perhaps an old injury flaring up even as he walks across those mats back towards where he had tossed his towel away. He walks over there and talks to her over his shoulder as he steps, "Yeah she was kind enough to give me some time. I was figuring she might have decided in like next weekend or something. 'Oh by the way Nightwing, back on Sunday to kill you.'" He shakes his head and smirks even as he approximates Shiva's voice a little too cheerfully and high-pitched, like something out of Monty Python.
    But then he's dabbing his brow and walking back towards her, "We should put it in the fridge then, I'm about to get dressed up and go out." Though that doesn't stop him from walking over to that bag she had put against the wall and pulling it open to peek inside, brow quirking at the contents and perhaps tempted... but then back to her.
    "I'll keep you in the loop though, Babs. Don't worry. But there's one thing I need from you." He steps towards her and rests a hand on her shoulder, bright blue eyes meeting hers. "No matter what happens, I don't want you to try some sort of last ditch gambit to get in her way or attack her or challenge her. Even if you somehow are stealing Superman's powers or something. Just stay clear. Okay?"

Oracle has posed:
She is definitely grumbling -- mostly good-naturedly -- under her breath as they walk back toward the door. If he's heading out, she's heading home. Picking up her jacket, she smiles as he peers nito the bag. Maybe he'll make the time to actually eat before he goes out. She doesn't know.

But as they pause there at the door and he asks that of her, Barbara's green eyes are serious. "I don't make promises to you that I can't keep," she tells him softly.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Oh see /now/ we're fighting." But Dick grins at her even as he pushes the door open for her, holding it with a shoulder as he takes a moment for another kiss to her cheek. Just a soft farewell as he takes her hand and gives it a firm squeeze. "Be safe, Babs. I'll talk to you soon. I'm heading into the city next week. Maybe we can do a run with the new sproglings." Including Damian he most likely means.
    That said he'll wait for her to step out into the hall and then waves after her before letting the door swing shut silently behind her.