9905/Knightfall: Just one more question!

Knightfall: Just one more question!
Date of Scene:	04 November 2019
Location:	Lobby, Hall of Justice
Synopsis:	Lois Lane has some /questions/ for Batman.
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Lois Lane
Tinyplot:	Knightfall

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Nightwing has posed:
Social media has exploded a little bit. It's late afternoon on a Sunday, but some images and videos are emerging around a currently extremely popular topic: Superman and Batman, and the rest of the Justice League, following the aftermath of Superman's loss, and the mystery around what happened to Batman.

The pictures and videos begin to appear all in a cluster around the same time: 4:56pm. They're all from the Hall of Justice, where various patrons of the museum suddenly hauled ass over to the observation area. Multiple videos have surfaced, aimed through from observation, into witnessing Batman alive and in the Justice League only area of the Hall. The videos show him in the darkened computer console area, hardly even visible at first. It shows that Wonder Woman approaches him, and greets him with respect, clasping his arm. The two then exit the observation area. The videos also contain excitement, one of them even showing the crowd that chants for Batman, though Batman has not yet returned into view of the hopeful fans...

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois was at the office. True, she was able to work from home - hell, she could work from wherever she liked. Perry would twist himself into a pretzel to keep her on the payroll, and that's just the way she liked it. But the bullpen at the Daily Planet was always quiet on the weekend, and she found it easier to think in her office than she did anywhere else. She knew she'd get some serious wordcount done.

Except the story was another damn puff piece about Metropolis without Superman. How the City of Tomorrow was picking itself up by its bootstraps to do for itself and fill the vacancy the Man of Steel had left behind. Important news, sure, but was it really something you wasted a Pulitzer-winner on.

Lois was taking a break and flicking through social media when she got the first ding. Then another. Then they were coming through so fast she couldn't keep up. Tweets and comments in a hurricane at the eye of which sat her story on the Batman sighting in Gotham City. One minute she was reading them on her computer, next on her cell as she rushed across the bullpen and down the elevator.

"Miro," she says into her phone, cutting off the voice on the other end, "Yeah, hi! No time! I need to get behind the scenes at the Hall of Justice, can you swing it? I don't want an autograph, I want access! Uh huh. Need I remind you about your brother's little spree to - ah hah, I thought you might. Be there in five! Two! Two!"

And so, she was there, standing in the area behind the Hall that functioned as something like a stage door. Secure from the public. She looks at the Batmobile curiously, taking some photos of it on her phone. She's out of breath and sweating but she would never deign to show it. Indeed, it looks like she's been waiting here for hours.

Nightwing has posed:
The sun had just begun to set when those tweets and videos went out live. Now, it's been twenty minutes after that.

That twenty minutes stretches into an hour, in the now-chilly evening. The Batmobile still stands, cool and calm, while the hero associated with it continued to be out of reach.

Then, suddenly, the engine deep within the car comes to life with a proud purr, and glowing lights light up all over it, some hazy and barely visible through any window that isn't heavily mirrored - which is just the front. Fog appears around the wheels and base, as the superhero conveyance prepares: a very clear indication that Batman is about to be present.

Lois Lane has posed:
"You'll just have to cancel it, Lucy," Lois says into her phone, holding it between shoulder and ear as she stares with supreme boredom at the unresponsive Batmobile, "Because I don't know how long I'll be - "

When the car springs to life, she fumbles for her phone and grabs it in one hand.

"Gotta go! Love you! Bye! Mwah mwah mwah!" she shouts into it, not bothering to hold it in her ear as she clicks the hang-up button and brings up her video recorder. She holds the phone out in front of her, snapping some still photographs of the now quite active car and glancing towards the nearby door.

Nightwing has posed:
There is just about zero time to react, before the door is already open and Batman is stalking across the pavement. The lighting is from below; the pathway towards the cars is lit from underneath, casting a golden upwards cast to the hero's cape as it drapes about him, concealing a great deal.

From previous footage, this suit is new; it has a feel of behing perhaps more technologically advanced, as it is not quite as bulky as the most recent one. It creates a feeling of quickness and agility rather than bulk in styling.

Certainly there's no question that this is, in fact, the Bat, though: accepted by the Justice League, Diana herself, plus the costume, the car: all of it aligns into only one answer: Batman. He isn't strolling, either, he's coming right at her, to his car, like an eerie black steamroller. In person, Batman can be a lot to handle, particularly suddenly.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois holds the phone up, keeping the Dark Knight in the middle of the frame as he steps outside. She is still filming him as she realizes he is walking directly for her, and to her credit neither lowers the phone nor steps back and away. The Batman is scary, no doubt, but Lois Lane didn't get where she is by backing down in the face of danger.

"Hey," she mutters, her voice quickly raising to a more urgent volume, "Hey! Hey! Ease up, I'm press! Look!"

One hand lowers down into the top of her blouse to produce a plastic press pass on a blue Daily Planet lanyard, which she holds up before her like Van Helsing might ward off Dracula with a crucifix.

"What do you have to say about reports that Batman is dead?"

It's a dumb question, she knows, but best to start with the most pressing one on everyone's mind. Just how is the man everyone so vehemently believed was dead still walking around? She knew Batman, but not well enough to easily pick the difference here save for the suit design. After all, the guy was usually cloaked in shadow.

Nightwing has posed:
Batman has seen her.

There is the car between them. He stops as she speaks to him: a silent, dark shape, now backlit, his cloak falling foward. Eyes narrow slightly: plenty of distraction for what he is actually doing one-handedly. That action will become apparent as her phone shuts itself off.

The 'look' he gives her when she asks the extremely stupid question shows his disregard for it. A pity she's wasting her time with such obvious questions. "Poor reporting," is the answer he gives her, tone dark, thick with the suit's vocal manipulation. He hasn't moved, though, just stood there like an eerie cloaked phantom of villain's nightmare.

Lois Lane has posed:
"You keep your Pulitzer in your other Bat-Onesie?" Lois mutters, a reaction more to the supreme disquiet Batman gives off. That identity carries a very heavy sense of myth and legend with it, and even Lois can't help but feel that cold intimidation washing off the Batman in waves. The phone now deactivated in her hands, she simply drops it into her purse and produces an old-fashioned pen and notepad. Shut that off, smartypants.

"Sorry, I had to ask," she adds, before plunging into the next question, "South Channel was the first time anyone has seen you in weeks. Where have you been?"

Sure, there's been unconfirmed sightings but nothing anyone was willing to confirm as definitively Batman. The new Dark Knight's grand brawl with Killer Croc was the first definitive footage.

Nightwing has posed:
The Bat hasn't moved. He's just stood there like a creepy gargoyle watching her. Just... watching her, his silence well organized to make her doubt if she's using the limited time with this hero with the /right/ questions. Something to second-guess both now, and later.

"I have chosen to be seen, now," growls the Bat. He curls his hands outwards to the sides of his cape, unfurling it a little bit, and continuing towards his vehicle. There's confidence coming off the man in waves: confidence in body and manner, motions precise and flinty as his voice.

Lois Lane has posed:
"So, you've been acting in secret?" Lois asks, making quick notes in a shorthand that would likely only be truly legible to her, "Why?"

The reporter's brow furrows every time the Dark Knight lapses into silence. Talking with Superman had always been like talking with someone you just inherently trusted. It was as pleasant as walking through the park at midday on a cloudless spring day. Batman was like speaking with that voice under your bed that was the reason you never put a bare foot on the carpet until you turned on the light.

Ooh, that was good. She was going to use that.

Nightwing has posed:
During a glance down for note-taking, that door of the Batmobile opens, soundlessly, sliding upwards and back, like a bizarre new sportscar's design would have. Which, of course, the Bat-vehicles have always held that place: being directly from the near future. A dark future.

"I /always/ do," Batman replies to her, terse as ever. She probably has time for one more question before he's going to shut that door on her. Maybe less.

Still, it's Dick, and his heart isn't in slamming a door in her face, not really. He doesn't enjoy being the bad guy. But it's part of the duty.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois had hoped to build up to this question, but she wasn't going to have time for all that by the look of it. She moves quickly to the door, even bending slightly so she can be on eye-level with the Caped Crusader. The pen and notepad in her hand seem to move of their own accord, eyes never leaving him.

"Why did you kill Superman?"

She hadn't realized the question would come out so sharp. She'd buried a lot of emotion over the death of Metropolis' hero. She's thrown herself into stories, treating him as just another source for a story instead of the living, breathing man she'd known. That she'd cared for. The words trip off her tongue almost like an accusation, but she doesn't let anger or sadness corrupt it.

When he looks, all he will see is an icy stare almost to match his own and a mouth set in a determined, patient line.

Nightwing has posed:
The door shuts sideways: which is good, it won't impact her. It might startle, though, since she was so intent on holding his gaze and trying to get up in his face. But it's about as successful, it appears, as trying to intimidate a wall into giving way. There's just mirrored window shutting her out, now.

Inside, Dick glowers at the steering while, tells himself to drive away.

And relents. The window moves, gives four inches: just the eyes and the top of the cowl. "The part that was Superman was already gone."

The Batmobile sleekly lunges into motion, a silent, quiet predator: except for that big engine that kicks on as the electric gives way to horsepower. And with that, her phone returns to life with a vibration, and the taillights of the Bat disappear into the night.

Lois Lane has posed:
Lois watches the door close, and even when it does, she doesn't relent. She stares at the window, and it opens almost like it heard her silent demand.

She listens to the Batman's words, nodding her head faintly. She doesn't say anything further. She knows she's gotten all the blood she could wring from this particular stone. She notes it down with her pen, taking a step back as the engine roars to life and the car speeds off.

She looks down at her phone as it springs to life, pulling it from her bag and staring at the wallpaper there.

Superman, crowned by the sun, flying high over the sparkling spires of Metropolis.