9913/Knightfall: Lazarus

Knightfall: Lazarus
Date of Scene:	04 November 2019
Location:	Interior - Wayne Manor
Synopsis:	Constantine meets with the Bat Family, deals with a Loa, and sets Bruce on the path of recovery.
Cast of Characters:	Carrie Kelley, Constantine, Batman, Red Hood, Nightwing, Spoiler, Robin (Wayne), Red Robin
Tinyplot:	Knightfall

---

Carrie Kelley has posed:
It wasn't that late in the day yet. The sun was out shining, though in Gotham that just meant the foggy haze of the almost persistent cloud cover was brightened a bit. Carrie had already been out of the manor to fetch the individual they needed here. Her car sits in front of the manor stairs though she and her passenger are outside as she clutches to his elbow to lead him up the steps... A necessary situation as she'd insisted he wear a blindfold. Or in this case, a sleepmask so it wouldn't look *too* odd to anyone they drove past.

"Some of the other family might be around, just to warn you. We're a nosey bunch," she explains as they crest the stairs. "Last step, then we're inside and you can take that off."

Constantine has posed:
There's a small part of John's lizard brain that wonders, if only for a couple seconds, what kind of sex party shit he'd inadvertantly gotten himself into. Picked up in a bar, clandestine meetings in the early evening, and silk sleep masks? "This is reminding me moment by moment of the early two thousands, love." Says the Brit, minding each step cautiously else to break his ankle.

"If My Chemical Romance is playing when we get inside, I'm gonna need to consult my consent app, yeah?"

As usual, he's unshaved and wearing his dingy light brown coat, but he's also carrying a bag of implementations with him for the work he's been summoned to Brucies Sexy pahtay, "It smells like old money and empty promises in here." Looking around without being able to see anything.

Batman has posed:
Much of the Manor's more identifying features have been covered up. The few portraits on the walls in the master bedroom that John has been led to have been taken down, leaving pale oblongs on the wallpaper. The photographs of Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian as children that usually sit by the bed have been removed and locked away in a cupboard. The opulence of the bedroom itself cannot be masked, but the darkness within is so complete that few details can be made out. Bruce is visible only from the neck down, bare chest wrapped in bandages. His face ensconced in shadow.

The patient is ready - and when he speaks, it is through a vocalizer that scrambles his voice to sound electronic and resonant.

"John Constantine."

Red Hood has posed:
Jason wasn't nosey so much as he was downright terrified. In fact he had been planning to be pretty much anywhere else and let the more touchy-feely members of the family stand around Bruce's bedside and sing Kumbaya. In the end though he is drawn by curiosity, and concern, though he'd never admit to the latter.

So when Carrie leads John into the bedroom, Jason is posted by the wall, his one foot and his shoulders placed against the wood paneling. He's in his Red Hood outfit, minus the guns and the helmet, opting instead for the red domino mask, and by the way he fiddles with the pen in his hand, he's dying for a smoke right now.

There's a grin at John being lead in with the mask in place. "Great, the orgy can get started!" Jason exclaims breaking the tension or shattering the solmenity of the moment. Dealer's choice.

Nightwing has posed:
There's more than just a bed with darkness near the headboard. Stepping forward, just after the voice said Constantine's name, is the looming shape of Batman.

Batman is, very clearly, NOT the person in the bed, but the bare outline of sheen off the dark mantle, cowl, and cloak, sets him just back towards the shadowed head of the patient.

Was he the one that spoke? That would indeed be logical. He is simply a gargoyle of judgement now, visually, observant of those who enter the room, with a chilly, cold stare. A stare that hides the worry and stress within.

Spoiler has posed:
Batgirl is standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Leaning forward, one shoulder pressed against the inside of the door jamb, while her cheek leans against the middle of it. She stays quiet, the blonde watching as Constantine is brought in. He only gets a few glances though, her eyes quickly going back to Bruce.

Stephanie looks over to Carrie, seeking something in her friend's face that will help give her confidence in this man that she's brought. Stephanie's eyes go back to Bruce then, staying there. Staying there even as she pulls out a baton and reaches out to poke Red Hood with it in the side.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Disguises abound, Damian had suited up, and put his hood up as John was brought into Bruce's room. He was outfitted for war, to emphasize the severity of the matter. His sword was on his back, his outline masked by his cape and hood, but golden embellishments could be seen on the muted dark red color of the shadowed room. The golden R glinted with the light of the machines in the room. The same glimmers of light could be seen from his hands, that lie on either side of his body. The green armored gauntlets and legs of Robin's uniform stood out.

  Damian remained quiet, even his breathing was controlled, moving his chest as little as possible. The youngest Robin remained as still as a statue, observing from beside Batman.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley was disguised in a different way for her part. She had to go out without drawing too much attention. The long black wig she'd worn before was once again on, though pulled back into a neat ponytail at the base of her neck. Sunglasses were worn to further obscure her face, and she opted for leggings, boots, and a leather jacket along with gloves. It was cold out. She could get away with this.

Moving behind John she reaches up to sweep her wig off in one clean movement leaving her pinned back red hair exposed. It's deposited on a chair beside the wall. With one hand the glasses are slid away only for her other to palm a green mask over her eyes obscuring her face once again. The rest she would leave alone, even if she did look as if she'd raided Black Canary's wardrobe minus the fishnets.

"Very funny," she mutters though she does crack a grin at Jason before her gaze sweeps to Stephanie. A nod of affirmation is given, and then she smiles toward Damian, and Dick. One of them had to look confident here. "You can take it off now, John. What do you need us to do to get started?"

Constantine has posed:
This is true of mansions: It is a long way from the front doors to the master bedroom. A load of stairs and a slightly intoxicated Constantine means a few stubbed toes along the way, "For fu-..." Nearly tripping on the landing when they reach Bruce's floor... Technically they're all Bruce's floor..

Then they're there, surrounded by eyes all staring at him (except for the one pair staring at Bruce). "Orgy? I bloody well knew it.." There's no seriousness in his voice, but neither is much humor... and then even less so when he's given confirmation that they've arrived with that mechanically altered voice speaking his name.

His hand sweeps off his sleep mask and his gaze moves around at all the grim faces, lingering on two: Batman and whoever the hell that is laying in the bed. "Hngh... I didn't know we were preforming infront of a live studio audiance." Said as the bag swings down off his shoulder so he can kneel infront of it.

First thing he pulls out is a leather bag, cutting eyes back over his shoulder and up at Carrie now in a mask as well, "Nice hair. Take this." Holding it out to her with one hand and pointing around in a wide arc across the foot of the bed, "As close to a circle as you can get.. I'm only summoning ancient, vengeful spirits who pay maticulous attention to detail, so it doesn't have to be perfect.. Probably should be though."

Batman has posed:
"You'll have whatever you need," the electronic voice of the shadowy figure in the bed announces, "They're here to ensure your cooperation - and to assist if things go unexpectedly."

Bruce cannot turn his head to take in the full array of the Bat Family assembled in the room, but his eyes flick from one side to another like a swinging pendulum - taking them all in. He doesn't wear a mask himself save for the darkness, though his eyes have adjusted to it well enough to make out the outlines of those gathered around.

Red Hood has posed:
Jason turns his head towards Steph when he's poked in the side wrinkling his nose at her. "You so are not one of my favourite things," he mutters lowly, riffing of the whole Sound of Music motif of their last couple of meetings.

Turning his head for ward in time to catch the grin from Carrie, Jason flashes one back in return gets one in return along with a look up and down and a thumbs up for the wardrobe choice as well, the whole love child of Talia al Ghul and Dinah Drake thing kinda worked.

Then out of bullshit to distract himself from the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Jason frowns and lifts the end of the pen to his lips worrying it with his teeth a little as things get started.

Nightwing has posed:
Batman is unimpressed by the flippant attitude around healing the patient that is suffering, particularly right in front of said patient. "'Probably'. Is his life a joke to you?" demands Batman. The voice isn't loud, but has considerable force behind it even so. The modulator on the voice brings a heavy menace. There's clear reasons why Batman is feared, and this isn't acting: it will seem pretty damn real.

The disregard shown to the patient is clearly not something Batman is going to tolerate. His hand is veiled in darkness, but Bruce may pick up on the death grip he's giving to the pillow just near Bruce's head. Dick's anger is being held down, but the situation has put him with only a thin margin of tolerance. Losing Bruce isn't funny.

"We will make it perfect. Robin." Robin's name is dropped with similar firmness, calling the boy to act. Damian, he knows, will absolutely be a perfectionist in this case, of the circle and anything else like it. "Assist her."

Spoiler has posed:
The callback by Jason brings a brief half-smile to Stephanie's face. Though her concern for Bruce soon banishes the expression for a more somber one as her eyes move back to the man on the bed. She wills him her strength, if such a thing were possible.

Stephanie moves a little further into the room. Past the doorway and then leaning against the wall. She watches Batman and Robin, gauging their emotions and making sure they aren't going to lead them into anything rash. As Robin is given something to do, Stephanie gives a slight nod. She'd not thought of that, but it seems a good idea.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     A swift >tt< echoes through the room as Constantine's demeanor is criticized by Batman and Robin.

  The white eyes that peered through the darkness of his hood flare just a little, his head turning to look up at Batman. Then approaching Carrie almost silently, he joins her in making the circle. As perfect as it can be made, of course.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley takes the chalk handed over without a remark toward his apparent joke in regards to how perfect to make it. "Gallows humor, Boss," she states simply when 'Batman' speaks up about the attitude regarding the situation. Either way she had a task to do, one that Robin was going to assist with.

As soon as she comes near him her voice drops, "Stab your sword into the floor. It'll be a fulcrum," she requests while pulling out a length of paracord that she had tucked somewhere on her person. The intent was clear: Make a central point and use the length of chord to draw a circle with making it as perfect as could be given the situation.

"Hood, do me a favor and grab some coffee for John here? He might need something to perk up a bit." She'd smelled that alcohol on him, and the 'giving out of things to do' seemed a very good idea right now all around.

Constantine has posed:
"Life?" Constantine doesn't even glance up at Batman, the anger shadowy figure of vengence is bleeding off barely even registering for the Eldritch inclined Mage, "Nah, that's not funny at all.. but you've got to appreciate the humor inherent in a room full of high profile vigilantes standing around a bloke laid in an opulant bed in the middle of 'Gotham' of all places.." At no point does John stop what he's doing to speak, a group of three small wax candles are set down on the hardwood floor near his left oxford.

"You look pretty good for lad that went twelve rounds with the Boyscout." This part, at least, is said directly to Batman. "I've seen the kind of magic required to bring that fuckin' guy down..." Another candle, this one old, smelling slightly of fatback or grease. It casts off an amber reflection against his pale features.

Nodding towards the figure laying in the bed, "Hello sir, I seem to have upset your rather impressive rolladex of friends.. Will it be okay if I consult very powerful forces in the hopes of borrowing enough of their power to heal you. Do you consent?"

Glancing over to Carrie, then down at the circle she's drawn in black sand, "Good enough for government work... on the plus side, the only person it hurts if you did it wrong is me..." This part is said back, and over his shoulder, to Batman. "Who has to deal with the spirits. Worst they can do to your mate here, is nothing. So unless someone else needs to be morality police, is it okay if I get started?" Glancing around, "Any other concerns? If I'm a little curt, it'll only get worse... if these jokes bug you, just wait until HE shows up..."

One of the last thing he pulls out is a flask, but this comes from an inner pocket of his jacket. "No need for coffee, love. I brought the hair of the dog." He does not, however, immediately drink any, but pours it around himself in a turning circle so that the salt line maticulously laid out by Carrie runs across the hardwood. He does take a drink, even pours some in his palm and runs it back through his hair, and he absolutely reeks of cheap bourbon. "Bawon Sanmdi.." Surprising how thick his French Creole accent can be when he's working, "I come nah barin' gifts for da great loa of life and death." Kneeling, he places the four candles around himself. The three smaller to either side and behind him with the larger lard candle sitting at the appex of the circle facing the foot of Bruce's bed. A metal match box is retrieved from his pocket and brought up to rattle against the side of his face near his left ear. The distinct sound of a single match inside clearly settles whatever reservations he may have had. "I bring whiskey..." Rather than setting down the flask, he grabs a full bottle of Kentucky Redeye, "I bring cigars..." Freshly wrapped Havans are all laid out on the foot-banister. "We dun talk't, you know my offer.. you know what I want.. now ya jus' got come fill your end.."

Already there's a wind picking up, a lite flicker of the match now struck and being used to light the candles. "Don't talk to him when he gets here.. All the dealin' needs done, I've delt and are done.. you interject yourself with the Loa and you've to sort that out yourself. I'm not getting involved." The last is for everyone.

Batman has posed:
Behind the veil of shadow, Bruce's forehead creases and the bridge of his nose wrinkles. That is the only concession he makes to wearing his emotions on the outside, remaining otherwise perfectly still. His attention remains fixed upon Constantine now, blue eyes set on the man as he asks his consent.

"I consent," Bruce replies, the vocalizer momentarily switched off to allow only the baritone voice he employs - employed - as Batman, "Do it."

Then he simply lapses into silence, watching as the ritual is begun. He doesn't look towards the others present, trusting them to follow instructions - after all, that's how he trained them. The oxygen mask he's been using to breathe is moved to one side, set against his thigh on the bed.

Let's see what the magician can do.

Red Hood has posed:
Hmm... make salt circles... stand around doing nothing...or go get coffee? Three bad choices but one of them got him out of the room for the moment for a little blessed relief.

Even if he appreciates the distraction, it's not like Jason would actually show it. "What? Are we out of water to boil and fresh towels to fetch?" he asks, the standard busy work tasks of old thyme childbirth. "But sure, why not, how do you take it John, one whiskey or two?" Then he spots the flask and sighs, escape denied. "Nevermind see you got that covered," frowning, maybe at the drunk wizard, or maybe at the lack of an escape for Jason.

Trapped, Jason leans back against the wall and crosses his arms. Constantine's warning has Jason look around the room as if expecting to be stared at accusingly before he makes a zipping motion across his lips. Jeeze, it wasn't like he was going to mouth off a spirt.

Nightwing has posed:
Batman appears as unimpressed by compliments about his apparent fighting Superman without being turned into a pretzel as he does about other jokes. Nothing is funny to Batman. Which should surprise exactly ...//nobody//.

What it means is that Batman says nothing, though he does move his muscular arms to cross them, framing the large bat symbol on his chest, and he continues to watch, from this point. He'd made his own stance clear: that this should be done safely and right, with concentration and proper solemn tone. Supervised by the Bat.

Inside, though, Dick is a crumpled tension of concerns, and empathy with the others that are watching. But he can show none of it, and that's its own strangling dumpster fire internally for the deeply worried man.

Spoiler has posed:
Stephanie watches Constantine with a specious eye. She is not very familiar with magic, but this is starting to look like that one movie. Yeah, that one. With the girl from the show. She actually can't remember how it ended but thinks it probably wasn't a good one. Something with zombies most likely.

She glances around at the others, looking for anyone else as concerned with her. For a change Stephanie manages to silence her inner monologue and just watch quietly, though the warning from Constantine probably has something to do with it.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian takes out his sword, placing it on the ground, point first, tying the end of paracord to its hilt.

  The salt circle has a perfect arc. Robin steps back, letting Constantine have space. He has seen a fair amount of demons, it came with the territory of his Year of Blood.

  The sword is placed back in the scabbard with a flourish, then the boy simply watches, arms crossed.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley steps back once the circle of dark salt is made on the once pristine floor. No doubt Alfred would grumble about it later. It's a single thought but one that leaves her feeling at least somewhat normal. Such a mundane thing compared to what was to happen. Given the situation she takes care not to break the circle as she steps out of it so that John can take over.

The scent of whiskey causes her to crinkle her nose when he practically bathes himself in it. With nothing left to distract herself or others with she just crosses her arms to start watching as well with a sharp eye. Right. No talky

Red Robin has posed:
Tim Drake has a chair and is sitting on it reversed. Tim has been offered magical training of late Looking around he wonders a bit more if he should try to take it up. The young man is a techy, but seems magic is needed more and more of late. He does watch all going on waiting quietly.

Constantine has posed:
The flame on the now burning candles dances in the wind with no origin. The light flickers across John's frame as he slides out of his coat and tosses it outside the circle atop his leather pack laying nearby. "Bawon Sanmdi, I can feel you here.. all around us." He murmurs, forgoing the accent now that a connection to the Invisible Realm has been established.

The flask is brought up for another quick gulp, but is then recapped and slipped into the pockets of his slacks. With his eyes closed, he begins moving, a slow and methodical writhing really, to an inaudible beat. The only indication is the flicker of candles that start out singularly, but quickly take up a rhythm of that matches the one he's clearly moving to, until there's the faintest, possibly imagined, thumbing of drums from the darker shadows of the room.

When the British mages eyes snap open, they're not his.. they look like his, certainly, but they're not. They're old eyes, staring around the assembled with a grin that doesn't match Constantine's in the slightest except that it's own his face.

"Mmm.. such pretty things.." Reaching out for one cigars, plucking it up gingerly to run longways beneath his nose. "You've interesting friends, Bruce Wayne." The cigar settles into his teeth while fleshy hands fumbled around in Johns pockets for a lighter. "Whiskey..." Eyeing the bottle as he tilts his head forward towards the flame rather than bringing it in closer to his own face, puffing up a huge plume of aromatic smoke without bothering to ask if it's okay if he smokes.

"I'd prefer rum..." Eyes cut to Stephanie and Carrie, grin redoubling in the light of the flame held near the cigar, "Nice scenary though. They old enough?" Jutting his head to the side, looking at Bruce. "You look like you'd know."

Eyeing the state Bruce is in with a flicker of baby blues... "Maybe not recently with that back, eh? I suppose that's why you'd like healed, innit?" The lighter clicks closed and drops in Johns pocket. He starts to move, but finds he's not able to escape the circle... "huh.. well that's inconvenient.. Johnnie Boy clearly doesn't trust me much.." Puff puff, blow.. big gulps of smoke roll out towards Bruce, carried on an unfelt wind towards the bed ridden man.

Batman has posed:
Bruce offers no reply when the Baron makes his appearance. The instructions Constantine gave were clear enough, and he had no intention of deviating from them. In another time and place? Maybe. But given all the grief with the metaphysical he's experienced lately - namely demons following him back from the Gates of Hell - he's hardly willing to add 'angry Loa' to the list of people with grievances against him.

So, he remains there as he is - the bed adjusted with pillow to allow him to sit up while the neck brace he wears keeps his spine still and in place. His breathing is steady, his mouth a grim line. The glow cast by the candles and by the lighter illuminate his features a little more, showing the stoic face that could very well belong to Batman were the Dark Knight not also in the room.

Nightwing has posed:
All of this display is making Batman more and more tense in his spot. He doesn't speak, but he does move out a little, a physical indication of his protectiveness over Carrie and Stephanie, or perhaps also over Bruce. There's nothing more than moving forward a small amount. Exerting his willpower into the room in some way, as if it were a tangible thing.

But what else can he do? Continue to exude confidence for the rest of the family's sake. He'll be glad when this is over, though his tension level may take a while to come down from. He's responsible, and yet very unable to do much of anything.

Spoiler has posed:
Batgirl's hand drifts down to rest on her belt. Not actually pulling out a freeze disk, but she just wants her hand to be near to it just the same. The cowled face doesn't show any expression at the comment from the Baron. She just stares back at him steadfastly.

Stephanie's vision cycles through the various spectra her costume's vision is capable of viewing. Sending Oracle the data. How many times will they get a chance to see something like this spirit happening? And since Stephanie can do little else, she contents herself with that. Her eyes go to Bruce, concern showing again.

Red Robin has posed:
Tim Drake watches silent. He normally would be trying to get readings as well, but he trusts batgirl and Oracle have that in hand. Instead Red Robin is making sure to get the human side of things in. He does keep an eye on bruce and the Loa but also looks to the rest of the family and what is around them to know whats going on all around not just where their attention is being drawn.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian stands, arms crossed, keeping his gaze to Bruce and Baron Samedi. Some deep voodoo going on here.

  Even though he was on guard, he did not worry as much as the others. The supernatural had a code that they adhered to. If Constantine arranged terms with the Loa, then they have already made the bargain.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Of all the things that might have been expected, this was not one of them. Carrie's green eyes flare with a sudden pursing of her lips as she watches Constantine become a vessel for the Loa known as the Baron. A vessel. Being used by the will of the Loa.

Wasn't that just similar enough to what she'd suggested could be done by the Sorcerer Supreme? Too high a cost though? Annoyance dies down with a controled breath drawn in and it may be easy to mistake her aggitation for the lewd suggestion that the Baron had made about her, Steph, and Bruce. Ew. She just turns her head away a moment to look at the others just in time to notice the protective forward step made by Batman. A quirk of amusement comes along with a quiet chuff of laughter that she quickly swallows. Oops.

Constantine has posed:
The Loa infused Constantine watches Bruce through the cloud of smoke, but can only move so far forward against the circle of salt and bourbon laid out around him on the hardwood floor. "Silent bunch..." Said with a little tsk of sucked teeth., cigar clutched with the curve of his index finger against the middle. "Alright, well I've a bargain to fulfill... and a price needs met."

No attempt is made to take the whiskey offering, the Loa staring at the injured figure of Bruce laid out on the bed before him, "You've a lot of injuries.. you sure you'll play nice with your body if I fix it for you?" While he asks the question, it's clear he doesn't care. A hand out stretched with the palm facing the bed slowly curls into a fist and curves slightly around like he's about to flip someone the middle finger.

Injuries begin to mend, but it is not an instanious process. Rather, the cigar is placed back in his mouth so that he can take the whiskey and wave a hand over it speaking words in a deep French Creole. The bottle is tucked back down against the foot rest near Bruce. "There you go, darling.. a cap full of that a day and you'll be right as the daisies in no time... and you'll remain that way until that bottle is empty..." Pointing with the cigar once more held in his hand.

"Anybody else got a request for the Loa?" Glancing around at the stoic vigilante Families. Snapping at Stephanie trying to record him, "No flash photography, please."

Batman has posed:
Empty?

Bruce's mouth twitches just faintly at the corners. Just what were the terms of Constantine's deal with the Loa? He fights back the instinct to ask, to plunge headlong into the conversational gauntlet that dealing with ghosts and spirits entails. His eyes move to the bottle, staring intently at it as it's tucked away.

Still, it's a question for the Magus not the Baron. He remains silent, eyes trailing across the gathered faces of his Family that are present. A silent warning against speaking.

Red Robin has posed:
Tim Drake 's brow raises a bit as well at the terms of the agreement. He will rub his cihn in thought. his hand absently moving to a spot on his utility belt, where he has his little bit of magic protection.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian keeps still, watching the Baron as he makes his moves

  The stipulation is taken though, Bruce will be healed until the bottle is empty. This was not a permanent healing. The young vigilante's gloves tighten and protest against the pressure of a closed fist. He will have words, but only once the Baron is away.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
"No. We'll tell him to use rum in the future," Carrie offers. Not a thank you. Not expressly. She likely shouldn't have said anything she knew, but it was... iffy. Don't speak directly, don't make deals. Yet there was that whole... Hospitality thing, too. At least with fae it would have fallen under that. And that is all she says before clasping her lips tight again giving Bruce an apologetic look. If anything it would fall on her, and not him.

Constantine has posed:
There it is.

John-vessel has no sooner moved his hand back from the bottle laid against the foot rest that Carrie has spoken directly to him and he turns on his dinged up oxfords to face her. Blue eyes stare at her through the smoke of another large puff of cigar clutched with one finger, a grin on his face that looks ghastly against the stubbled jaw of the British mage.

"You imply that there will be a future with us?" The loa wonders, tilting Johns head slightly as he regards the young heroine curiously. "You're like a cat aren't you? Everyone else sees a mouse trap and you see free cheese and a challenge.." He nods slowly at her, motioning out to Carrie with his cigar while regarding Bruce's critical stare.

"I'd keep an eye on her..."

Another puff of smoke and the Loa pats lightly at his belly, "Yelp, I feel like my work here is done.. Tell John I'll be seeing him soon... deals are meant to be paid, innit? And I never forget a favor owed." Hands out, specifically for Bruce, "Don't get up, I'll show myself out."

Batman has posed:
Bruce's eyes flick pointedly to Carrie when she speaks. There's something intense in there, and when she gives him that apologetic look it doesn't relinquish or lessen. But he remains silent, watching the Baron as he speaks and then sets to making his exit. It's only when he's gone that Bruce finally deigns to speak once more.

"Robin," his voice once more mangled slightly by the vocalizer, "Bring me that bottle. Pour me a cap. Be careful."

So, it seems that an encounter with the Loa has driven Bruce Wayne to drink. The man who won't touch a drop outside the most special of special occasions seems quite eager to get on the spirits. As he waits, he turns his attention fully now to Constantine.

"Until the bottle is empty? Then whatever this is wears off?"

Red Robin has posed:
Tim Drake looks over and says "Am a bit more curious what would happen if you miss a day, will it all revert back to this, or will it give the creature some type of freedom." He hmms a bit this and says "Any odd readings off the bottle?"

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Damian turns his head swiftly to Carrie after she speaks, the intensity in his eyes match that of Bruce's. Once the Baron is gone, he comments, in Constantine's voice. "Don't talk to him when he gets here..." He comments as he takes the whiskey and pours out just enough to fill the cap, helping Bruce to it if need be. "All the dealin' needs done, I've dealt and are done..." Once Bruce takes the drink, Damian caps the bottle again. "You interject yourself with the Loa and you've to sort that out yourself."

  He looks at the bottle, then at the cap, returning to his usual voice. "Seven hundred and fifty milliliters, give or take a day, that gives us one hundred and forty nine days. After that, what happens, Constan-tyne?" Yes, not Constanteen like most people said. The bottle is placed on the table next to Bruce's bed, and now his hand rests on the hilt of his sword again, turning to the mage with wrath in his eyes.

  "Tell me, sorcerer! What fate have you conscripted him to?!?" He yells out, losing his cool.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley takes a single deep breath under that glare from Bruce. Then Damian rattles off what Constantine had warned, again, in his own voice. All she says is, "I know." She had either screwed up or potentially left things open for a refill of that bottle. Perhaps. Her question though was simply, "Does it need to be filled with whiskey? Could always refill it with water as we go. Or more whiskey too come to think of it. Just said 'when the bottle is empty'. Not that it can't be refilled along the way."

Constantine has posed:
The removal of the Loa isn't anymore dramatic than the arrival had been, but John looks tired for having done very little. Left standing there smelling like a distillery, puffing a noxious cigar, and looking around a lot of unhappy eyes. "What?"

It takes a second to recollect his senses.

It's the cigar.

He stubs it out in the wax of one of the candles then blows them all out. "I didn't conscript him to anything, mate. I made a deal to heal your ..." Flash of anger, pint sized vigilante.. "Uncle? Dad?" pointing between the pair of Damian and Bruce, "Doesn't matter. I didn't do a bloody thing.. He drinks the whiskey, cap a day, and his health returns. He goes out and acts a daredevil skydiving into ground zero... he drinks the bottle, his health returns.." His hands flip flop with each explanation, "When the bottle's empty? He heals like the rest of us.. slowly and with tons of downtime. This is the come to jesus portion of tonights dinner entertainment, innit?"

A point at Carrie, "Or you can fill it with more whiskey.. might not be a great idea, but it's AN idea.. if you don't mind dealing with the Loa. Bollocks to that, his prices are steep." Putting away the implimentations of the ritual, he doesn't even bother trying to clean up the mess of salt and whiskey. Place like this has to have a butler.

Let The Help handle it.

Red Robin has posed:
Tim Drake hmms and says "I really need to thinking about taking those offers to learn a bit more about magic seriously I think

Batman has posed:
Bruce takes the cap, holding it steady in one hand for a moment before knocking it back. He lets his arm fall back to the bed, weary from that little show of exertion, and lets out a faint sigh. Once the bottle is capped and secreted away again, he turns his attention back to Constantine.

"I don't need immortality from some bottle," he growls through the vocalizer, "Enough to heal the most severe injuries. Then that's it. Then our deal is done."

He glances sidelong at Robin, brow still furrowed: "Once I'm mobile again, this is going into storage."

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
     Constantine's words are measured, and his hand is released from his sword. "It did not sound like that was the bargain. But you handled the business, you know the terms."

  Bruce's reaction to the bottle garners a skeptical look from the son. "Immortality implies no form of finality. This...potion, is definitely finite, father." Robin comments coldly, sans the emotional rage that was once present moments ago.

Carrie Kelley has posed:
Carrie Kelley scrubs a hand over her face a time or two as the issue is apparently resolved. At least it wasn't some horrible monkey's paw... So far. "Right. Then all's well... sorta." A glance is cast toward the departing John before exhaling a sigh. "I was his ride here," she mutters as she hurries out after him.

Constantine has posed:
"Well, looks like I'm gonna miss one tear jerker of a father son reunion..." John motions between Damian and Bruce, "Which answers a ton of questions I hadn't even asked.. kind of need to know information that I neither needed to know nor wanted to..." His bag packed, it's hoisted up to rest on one shoulder after replacing his coat with the collar turned outwards appropriately. "Regardless, don't mind me, I'll find my own way."

Patting the air at Carrie as he walks, not towards the door to the hallway, but one of Bruce's closets, "It's alright, love. Stay, hug your now not crippled friend... mostly not crippled... quasi-crippled.. a quasi-palegic." Snickering, Constantine opens the door to the closet and steps in.

It definitelly did not look like the interior of Bruce's closet for the brief little bit the door was ajar. Looked more like a foyer into a rather impressively large library.