8697/Clocktower at night

Clocktower at night
Date of Scene:	08 August 2019
Location:	The Clocktower - Gotham
Synopsis:	Batman comes to check on Babs. They discuss Hook, healing, and the return of the Demon's Daughter.
Cast of Characters:	Oracle, Batman
Tinyplot:	Hunted Demon

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Oracle has posed:
Babs has the Oracle Array, the multi million dollar, alien encrypted, near self aware super computer in her living room, set on autopilot. The reason for this is fairly simple: She's laying on her couch with a bag of Doritos and Netflix. Her hair is twisted up in a messy bun and she's wearing a sky blue t-shirt with white text: 'It's only funny until someone get emasculated.. then it's hilarious, pink pajama pants with green frogs, and a knee brace.

Like a good patient, she has it propped up on the back of the couch to keep it up above the level of her heart. Her glasses are resting on the bridge of her nose and she's a headset laying around her neck just incase one of the hundred or so keyword scans on comms traffic triggers her and she needs to quickly set the computer to manuel.

For the most part it's been a quiet night.

CRUNCH

Batman has posed:
"I have a possible lead on Stockholm," Batman's grave voice intones, and just like that he's standing behind the couch half-illuminated by Netflix, "Nothing concrete yet. Need to shake a few trees but ... there's something there. If I don't have her soon, she'll need to go to ground. Either way, she can't operate inside her normal parameters."

As much as there are 'normal' parameters for the criminall insane.

The Dark Knight stares at whatever is playing on Netflix for a moment, his expression an unreadable mask. If he even parses what he is seeing, he makes no display and tells nothing of it.

"You're recovering." A statement, not a question.

Oracle has posed:
Most of her bruises are beginning to fade, a lot more browns than deep purples on her jaw and eye, and her knee isn't nearly as swollen anymore. The concussion as well, when the gravelly voice speaks into the silence behind her couch, Babs glances up and over with a little frown, "You're the /only/ person my sensors can't pick up..." It's not that she's surprised because she's absolutely not.

If anything she's disappointed.

Every task is set to 'Batman Standards'.

A dorito slides into her mouth and is crunched noisely. "She said she was working for some gang that's trying to take out the Hook trade. She had some pretty high tech gear too." A lot of that night had been masked behind the fog of her TBI and has since begun to clear. "I don't think she realizes how in over her head she is."

Robbing banks, spying on major drug dealers, it isn't exactly in Stockholm's wheelhouse up to this point.

"Yeah." About her recovery. Her fingers sissor the bag and hold it up over the back of the couch, as if he would ever dream of consuming those empty calories. "You could have messaged me this, Bruce. Why are you here?" She doesn't sound upset, just.. tired.

Batman has posed:
"Checking on you."

Batman looks at the bag. His dietary regimen is extreme even by the standards of his Family. All food is fuel in his eyes - most of the Family could count on one hand the amount of times they have seen him eat something unhealthy outside of the Bruce Wayne persona on one hand. Even then, it's rare. He doesn't shake his head or say no thank you, he just notices it and then stops noticing it.

"My fault you were hurt," he explains, as though it were obvious, "Should have told you that you weren't ready to go out again. All those months out of uniform? They're clinging to you. Weights dragging you down. Making you sluggish. I knew that, but I didn't stop you. Saw your locater go online and was glad to see you back on the horse."

A pause.

"Then the horse kicked you in the head."

Oracle has posed:
"Don't start that shit with me, Bruce." Babs flashes anger, sitting up too sharply and wincing when it bends her knee, immediately falling back onto her back. She's dealt with this, all of this, the injuries and the realization that the once GREAT Batgirl failed, and she's dealt with alone. Few people have come to check on her because she wouldn't let them baby her and by the look in her eyes, she's not going to let Bruce do it either.

"I made a mistake, everyone makes a mistake. Even you.. you don't get to decide..." Of course he does. The bag of doritos is dropped down on the floor so both her hands can grab at the side of her glasses and hurl them across the room.

"I know that." She's lost her venom, staring up at the ceiling. "I knew it when I was putting the suit on. I didn't /want/ to fight anymore, even if I can. Even if I will again one day.. I didn't that night." She closes her eyes and shakes her head.

"I shouldn't have been out there, but this isn't YOUR fault. It's mine."

Batman has posed:
"I don't get to decide," the Bat answers, "All of this, I didn't decide. You were going to be Batgirl long before I even thought about training you - you'd make that choice. Tim? After Jason, I was never going to train another Robin. You remember that. Tim decided differently. I don't get to decide, no."

And then he does something rather strange. He sits. He steps around the side of the couch and settles on the arm of it at the end Barbara's feet are pointing, resting his gloved hands on his thighs and watching her critically.

"But I do get to counsel. I get to warn. I should have done that."

He takes a breath, looking towards the powerful array of computer components come together to form a truly intimidating machine, "You might want to be out there in uniform again someday, Barbara. But don't for a second think that you aren't fighting - this work is just as important. Moreso."

Oracle has posed:
Babs has her head back on the arm of the couch, but her eyes are closed. She knows he's moving though, the change in the pitch of his voice telling her exactly how far away he is and exactly which of the hidden weapons she could get to if it were anyone other than Bruce. She remains quiet, staring at the back of her eyelids until he lays her hand on her thigh, then she opens those eyes and looks to him.

"I know." She does, she was there for those transitions. Jason, Tim, Damian later... Spoiler.. Cass even. The whole family except Dick and they weren't far apart either. And like him, she glances back at the array, though it's awkward with her squished down in the cushions, "I know that too. I don't think what I'm doing now is less than what I was doing then.. Alfred is good at keeping everyone going, but I've been out there." She would never take anything away from the Butler, he's skilled in his own right. "One day I might change my mind, but right now I need this. I only went out that night because..."

She waves her hand, random, at something.. at anything. It doesn't really matter. "Because I knew that it was the last time for a while. I wanted the wind on my face one last time."

Batman has posed:
"Want wind on your face? Get a moped."

Bruce can be genuinely caring when he wants to be, but sometimes it's difficult to forget that he is a hard man who has made himself that way through a lifetime of serious study and tremendous discipline. He regards nothing of his nightly patrols as a game. It has always been a war to him. The vice-ridden sections of the city the Enemy's 'camps', the pushers and gun boys and pimps their soldiers. He stepped onto the battlefield over a decade ago and never leaves it, even in his sleep.

"With Stephanie becoming Batgirl," he continues by way of explaining his visit, "Her training needs to step up. She isn't done ... I've heard Shiva is back in Gotham."

Oracle has posed:
"Yeah, sentimentality isn't your strong suit, I get it."

Babs shakes her head and settles to stare up at the ceiling above them, "Don't worry, it wont happen again." She's still not afraid of the work, she just doesn't want to do it anymore. At least not right now. If her heart isn't in it, if her mind is on something else, she could get hurt. She could die. So could other people.

With a long sigh, her arms fling up on the couch behind her, then slide beneath her neck so her fingers can link together against the back of her skull.

"I'll step her up. Send her on some more dangerous patrols with me in her ear and Batwoman or Orphan watching her back from the shadows." Lady Shiva.. One red brow perks, "Seriously? As of when? How did I not hear that.. she has her own subroutine on the Array..."

Batman has posed:
"You helped build the Batcomputer. You should know how."

The training never stops. Eight years later and it never stops.

"She's put out feelers. Looking for high-paying work. This will be a way to kill two birds with one stone. I have the bankbook to engage her interest, and if she's busy training Stephanie that leaves her out of reach to those with ... other ambitions."

He then admits something, and while it is said as easily as though he were giving her the time the words themselves still hold a lot of gravity.

"Shiva is the best pure hand-to-hand fighter I've ever seen. I include myself in that list. If she can teach even a fraction of what she knows, then Stephanie will be better armed than I, or you, or even Dick was at her age."

Oracle has posed:
Babs inclines her head slightly, "Yeah.." Glancing back at her own computer, then at Bruce sitting on the arm of the couch near her elevated leg. "I'll have to trust you that you know what you're doing. Shiva isn't exactly reputed for being the benign helpful sort... even when she's being paid." Not that she thinks he's unaware of this, so much as she wants to put her concerns out there.

Both hands push down into the cushion of the couch and hoist her up enough to pull her legs beneath her so she can sit up against the arm where her head was resting. "I have a stack of files I snatched off the GCPD and NYPD servers on Hook.. but I need a sample. I know Cass brought one in... how much is left? I think I know how I can sythesize a ... well maybe not a cure, but definitely something to keep people from overdosing."

Her expression goes back to business, glancing across the room where she threw her glass with a little huff at that little temper-tantrum. Both hands grab her brace and hurl it off the couch, pushing herself up to limp towards them and replace them on her face. Any attempt to help her is fanned away quietly, but she doubts there'll be any given her company. "Lee told me how bad their doing down at the clinic. .. if you don't have a sample now, Bruce, have some one get me one. I have agents on it, but I need it before the dealers start cutting it down. Purest form.."

Batman has posed:
"I'll bring another one in," Batman promises, watching her critically even as he does nothing to help her. That's not his way, and he trusts she'll respect the wisdom he is imparting by not acting, "Been ... busy. Other matters."

He pauses a moment, as though he is going to share something but is thinking better of it. But in the end he moves forward, his tone never changing or implying a reason for the hesitation.

"Talia's back in Gotham. Being ... hunted. Some sort of off-shoot of the League of Assassins that want her dead. They used explosives that almost killed her. She's alive but - "

A breath.

"At the Mansion."

Oracle has posed:
"The sooner the better." Babs isn't rushing, but there's a need for expediance. This drug is a killer and ney impossible to stop taking once someone has started.. hundreds times more addictive than Meth. She blows out a long sigh and drops back down on the couch. Both hands bring her leg up and over to rest on the table across from her, "Talia..." The redhead rolls her eyes and drops back into the cushions, "Yeah, I bet there are.." Interjecting snide remarks about Damian's mother, a woman who's tried to kill them almost as many times nearly any of the Gotham Rogues.

She wants to say something about it serving her right, but she's not sure whether she actually feels that way or is letting something else dictate her opinion, so opts to keep it to herself. Her water bottle is taken up, having fallen over in the move, and she's just about to take a drink when Bruce finishes after his breath.

"What?" Turning to look at him, blinking several times. "What did you say?"

Batman has posed:
The Bat is almost defensive for a moment, as though he expected this reaction and is seeking to mitigate it.

"I'm aware of our history - our shared history - but regardless of what she's done in the past, she is still Damian's mother. I won't kill, Barbara, and that extends to willful inaction. You know that. I couldn't stand by and watch her die to settle a vendetta."

She should know that much about him. The amount of times he's wrenched their most hated foes from the jaws of death to bring them wounded, but alive, through the gates of Arkham Asylum are too numerous to count.

"Nobody knows besides you and Alfred."

Oracle has posed:
It has nothing to do with his inability to leave her to die and let her face the music played by a band of her own creation. Babs wouldn't let her die either, but.. "That's our home..." She breaths those words, staring over at him as if she's convinced, with all certainty, that he's lost command of his faculties. The anger has left her though, it was only a flash anyways, and it's replaced with a cool indifference.

"Your home." She repeats, a little more forcefully than she probably intended.

She shakes her head, "Hundreds of places you could have hid her, Bruce.. When that woman turns on you, and she /will/ turn on you, you did this." Pointing at him.

"THAT will be on you." Repeating something she said earlier, if slightly different.

After a moment, she looks down at her hands, then closes her eyes and sighs. "Are you going to tell Damian? He'll want to see her... and she'll want to ma-' She shakes her head steadily and stares off at a corner of the apartment.

Batman has posed:
"She knows where I live," Batman explains flatly, "She knows who I am. She knows who all of us are. There are few secrets from her, and even those I want to keep she roots them out in the end."

The question doesn't elicit a shrug from him, instead he turns his head slightly to one side. As close to such an action as he ever gets.

"I haven't. He's been on a mission. It mightn't be the wisest course of action. When she's recovered I plan to move her. One of the penthouses, most likely. But if they got the drop on her once, they'll do it again and I don't want to risk it being somewhere that I'm not there to put a stop to it."

Oracle has posed:
Babs shakes her head, "This is different and you know it." She's not backing down from it, but neither is she wanting to argue, so she brings her hands up and waves them through the air as if to clear the slate.

"I'll reevalute the security at one of the Penthouses.." She offers, still shaking her head, still not agreeing, but unwilling to get into it. He's considered everything she has, she knows that. Even if she doubts /anything/ Talia says. Explosives or not.

"The highrise in Gotham Center has a saferoom and titanium reenforced floor, walls, and ceiling. I'll upgrade the internal camera systems and pressure sensors around the complex for a few blocks.. two.." She adjuts her glasses up on her face, nearer to her dark brown left cheek.

"It's also around the corner from one of my agents safehouses. I'll put them on alert without telling them why.."

Batman has posed:
"Put me on the alert," the Bat insists, in a tone that brooks no argument or dissent, "Your agents as back-up or a recon force if necessary. These men were dangerous, and if they come again I'm not -- "

He cuts himself off, the slightest shift in his tone enough to suggest a monumental swell of emotion within the normally stoic man. He nods his head curtly, instantly remastering himself.

"She won't want to move. I'll convince her."

He'll try.

Oracle has posed:
Babs is still shaking her head, it feels like she has been since Bruce delivered this bit of information to her, and actually snorts out a single laugh. "Jesus Bruce..." Because she knows exactly what that rise of emotions means..

She glances over at him, green eyes sliding over the dark sentinel seated on the edge of her couch in a way nobody would ever believe if she told them. "I'll put you AND me on the alert. Nobody else will know what they're watching. I'm going to need another three drones in the area.. I'll send you a list where to put them once I've found a suitable powersource to keep them charged until... or if.. I need them."

She wants to get up and looks as if she does, but her knee is hurting again. Evidence by the way she's rubbing her thigh above the brace. "You know... There was a t-..." She shakes her head and grabs the arm of the couch nearest her, scooping up the bag of doritos as she twists up out of the seat and limps towards the kitchenette.

"I guess I was wrong... it really is your decision."

She rolls the bag and clips it, tossing it up in a cupboard with other snacks, not all of which are as unhealth.

Batman has posed:
The time spent traveling to the kitchenette is all the Bat needs. Their conversation is done, and he has no more pertinent information to give. There is not so much as a whisper as he departs, leaving behind only that dark emptiness that always seems to form when he leaves the room.

It's a dangerous game, the one he plays. He gambles with the lives of those he cares the most about on the remembrance of a time now so long ago and so buried beneath more than a decade of animosity that it is barely even a memory.

What's worse, is that if this is a mistake ... ?

He doesn't see it.

Oracle has posed:
Babs doesn't expect him to be there when she comes limping back out of the kitchen, grimacing with each step, but fighting through it on her way over to the Oracle Array. She sits down in the swiveling chair and turns so her leg is propped up on a nearby stool, fingers blazing over the keys to bring the powerful machine out of automation and bring up schematics of the Gotham Center penthouse to begin work readying the security for ...

She blows out a long sigh and pulls her headset up over her ears, blocking out the apartment, the world, and the thought of the vipor nesting in the place she was trained, a home where she spent most of her adult life. She brings up another screen and pushes play on her music, something to distract her rambling thoughts while she works.

There was a lot of security to plan and not a lot of time to do it.

25 years and my life is still... trying to get up that great big hill.. of hope.. for a destination.'