16164/A Drop of Blood for a Bat

A Drop of Blood for a Bat
Date of Scene:	24 October 2023
Location:	Batcave
Synopsis:	Damian persues Phoebe for an answer on why her healing powers didn't work. Bruce presses for more information. Phoebe insists that she can handle it -- which Batman hesitantly agrees to. Really, everyone is surprised.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne
Tinyplot:	Caliginosity

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe arrives back in the Bat Cave via one of the bat cycles. She had gone out with Batwing, Batgirl (Babs) and Osprey in order to accost some metahuman drug dealers who were trying to set up shop in GOtham. They caught five of the six, but after the operation Phoebe's answers were uncharacteristically short and clipped over the coms as she returned early from any extra patrol. Not unusual when she's been worn down, but this seems different.

    She hard brakes the bike to its pedestal, leaving a dark track in her wake. Her heartrate was elevated. She had high amounts of stress hormones running through her body.

    This was also unusual.

    But not as unusual as when she peels off her helmet, her hood down, her hair carefully braided to keep it from getting caught against the helmet liner.

Damian Wayne has posed:
Batwing is returning as well on one of the Batcycles. As he pulls it into it's parking spot, he shuts off the engine and gingerly dismounts before reaching up to lower his own helmet.

And despite the fact that there's a slight wheeze as he lifts his arms over his head, courtesy of a pair of cracked ribs, it's not himself he's concerned with. "Oriole." he starts to say, his lips pulled into a thin line.

They're in the Batcave, he doesn't quite grasp dropping codenames yet. "You are supposed to be able to heal injury continously. Yet you are not." He points out obviously, his arms at his sides in concern.

"Is this an effect of the battle we were just in?" he asks her bluntly. "There was another magic user there." Which magic is something he doesn't understand as well as most things he knows.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Magic. If there is one thing that the Dark Knight hates, it is magic. It throws all the calculations of everything off.

"What's wrong?"

Bruce's voice manifests from the darkness, and his pace coming down the stairs is a bit swifter than it typically is. Magic and injuries get his attention singularly - when in combination, even more so.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It especially should be concerning since Phoebe's file includes such tricks as

    -Regrowing Vorpal's spleen
    -Clearing a curse from Wonder Woman to wake her from a coma
    -Repairing damage to Damian's stomach when he took a bullet and didn't move his liver out of the way in time.

    And Phoebe has a cut. It stretches from where her domino stopped the blade, a half inch under her eye, down to her chin in a rough diagonal line. Phoebe grabs gauze from her medical bag in hre bike and folds it.

    "It's nothing." she lies, though she's terse. Every ounce of her body is anxious and fighting the flight instinct. Run and hide and figure this out on her own. She looks to Damian, and then to Bruce.

    The literal Rock and Hard Place to be between.

Damian Wayne has posed:
"It is not nothing." Damian points out, when his father speaks up. "Hello, Father." he greets, before explaining, as if giving a report - which he is. "Batgirl, Oriole, Osprey and I were in attendance of a warehouse that Oriole had scouted out for illegal activity. We engaged the metahumans on sight, one of which was enhanced duability and strength, one controlled electricity and another may have been a mage. Batgirl is processing the information that they were attempting to download for future operations."

And now, he moves to the other part of it. "There were minor injuries. I believe I may have a fractured rib. It will heal once dressed and I rest. Phoebe, on the other hand, who has in the past healed others with grevious wounds as well as herself, if unable to heal a simple cut. Which suggests either the wound is magical in nature, or that the wound was caused by something that is a weakness to Phoebe. Are you allergic to cold iron? I read that witches cannot take weapons made of cold iron."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"She is not a _witch_, Damian," offers Bruce with something resembling consternation as he reaches down to the level where Phoebe is working to attend to her cut. "As to why it is not healing..."

He looks to Phoebe. "It's not nothing. What's going on?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I'm not a witch." she states at the same time as Bruce, though her expression is a bit more like a wet cat.

    "And if you have a fractured limb, technically you're supposed to be healed before I take care of myself anyway. And yes. it should be healed. This should have been healed before I left the warehouse. Something like this shouldn't take long--" she draws off, and then tilts her head back.

    "It might have been a magical blade of some sort. Like Pixie's soul blade. It affects magical beings differently than a normal blade would. My concern is that if my healing factor isn't kicking in --" she states with a frown "And that's fae, Damian. Unworked iron. Carry a knob in your pocket and they can't stand you. Not a forged blade." she states, dabbing at her cheek.

    " -- but yeah, ah, my immune system relies on my healing factor. That's why I never get the flu."

Damian Wayne has posed:
"It is good to verify that you are not." That said matter-of-factly from Damian as he looks between father and sister. "Rib. Not limb. And it will have to heal on it's own. I will need it to for when I return to the Immortal Dragon Dojo."

But hey, he's learning something new from Phoebe and filing it away for later. "A magic blade, then. There are others around. Perhaps someone forged them one, or there is a market for such things?" he asks.

But with that, he's quelling his curiosity, turning to remove his gear so that he can start to dress his wound. As he does so, a book falls to the floor, which Damian stoops to pick up and put with the rest of his gear as he stretches himself out.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
For the moment, Bruce simply looks on as the two of them begin the process of unpacking their efforts of the evening. He nods as Phoebe supplies some education to Damian, but seems more concerned with the status of her abilities.

"Do you suspect it is the wound, or an overall state for yourself?" He tilts his head, studying her from his position on the landing. "A magical wound, we can call in some allies on easily enough. If it's a normal wound, and your abilities are fleeting..." He glances towards Damian for a moment, noting the book, but says nothing of it, before looking back to Phoebe.

"Has this ever happened before?"

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Well... yeah." Phoebe pauses a moment to consider the question of 'is there a market'. "There's the Flipside, which is a wandering magic market in the underbelly of Gotham. I've gotten reagents there for my other work. There's a Full Moon Market, a Troll market under various bridges, and if you know where to look you can mail order magic blades. Most of them shouldn't do a whole lot against me, because they're generally 'fight evil' or 'fight darkness'. Pixie's could kill me in theory. But this..." she motions to her cheek, and she frowns. "This was weird. The last time I got injured like this it was a Heavenly weapon, though Helliron I GUESS could do the trick. But wouldn't you know it, that's hard to get a hold of, and my boyfriend didn't want to stab me for Science." Phoebe remarks thoughtfully. And then she pauses.

    "Theoretically a weapon enriched with oriculum made from my blood. But that got sent away." she frowns, and she dabs at her cheek.

    "My abilities are not fleeting, Bruce. I'm the sole person who can hold the Spark until I produce crotchgoblins, so it has a vested interest in keeping me alive."

    "It had to be the weapon. I just didn't see how it was produced."

Damian Wayne has posed:
Damian has little to add at this point, instead, he reaches into his utility belt. Taking out an antiseptic wipe and a band-aid, he offers the pair of them to Phoebe.

"I assume the one that escaped from us was the one that held the weapon." he mutters in a slightly dour tone.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
The Dark Knight hates magic. But he has learned to respect it.

"If there is something out there that can injure you this way, we need to find it. And fast." He looks to Damian. "Get everything you can into the computer on the assailants you were fighting. Let's see how quickly we can identify them."

He does finally descend from the platform, moving over towards Phoebe as he does so. "Is the wound itself a threat, or is not severe enough for concern other than the issue of its failure to heal?"

Damian Wayne has posed:
"They at least seem to be a team." Damian points out as he heads for the computer. "The electric manipulator was genuinely concerned for the rock golem." he explains for his logic as he puts that information in first.

A search query is set up. First the association between the two. He knows one went by the name 'Stone Age', so he starts with his known associates and relationships - and that is what he will build off of to see if they can find a magic weapon or mage that associates with the pair.

And off the query goes!

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "No. It was the one I took down. I checked her over and she didn't have it, it could have been summonable. Or some spellwork I'm not familiar with. I'll reach out to Zatanna and see if she can advise." Phoebe states with a frown, but she gives a small smile, and accepts the antiseptic and the bandage.

    "Bruce, magic healing isn't the be-all-end-all. I'm talented at it, yeah, because my connection to The Light -- or what passes for the source of that energy I guess -- is strong enough that I have to bind it otherwise I glow in the dark. Best thing the Demon Constantine ever gave me was the binding tattoo." she replies. Her sure hands work the gauze, and then apply it to her face.

    "... the problem isn't that there's weapons that can hurt me. The problem is... is that my body's relied so much on its own magic that I have almost no platelet count. No white bloodcells. IF my power is fading -- which it isn't." she points to Bruce.

    "... it means that I could get sick really easily, and develop secondary complications with high morbidity."

    In other words, she could develop pneumonia from a common cold and perish.

    "But I can still feel the power. It's just this cut is being a pain. It'll be gone by tomorrow. Maybe it'll scar like my throat did." she takes a deep breath, and closes her med kit up.

    "Either way, talked through it, I'm not panicking, everything will be fine, just like the psychologist said. As long as I can talk through it, fear has no power over me." she offers as a joke.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
There has been a tendency in the past for Bruce to rush into judgement, usually disregarding what his children have expressed. It has been a bone of contention among them for a long time. But he is working on it.

So as Phoebe lays out the implications of the wound, and her lack of concern for what it represents beyond itself, he challenges himself to do what has always been a struggle for him. Accept it.

"Hmmm." Bruce gazes for a long moment at Phoebe, before finally adding. "Ok."

He nods towards Damian. "Thank you. Let me know what you come up with." He has an urge to micro-manage the search. He fights it. They need to see confidence from him.

Discerning that whatever crisis this may have represented is not, in fact, dire, Bruce turns and strides back up towards the Manor, leaving Phoebe and Damian to sort out their respective recoveries.

Progress. Maybe.