18158/Access Denied

Access Denied
Date of Scene:	02 June 2024
Location:	Batcave
Synopsis:	Bruce comes back to the cave to find Stephanie listening to surveylance tapes. They catch up on the goings on in Gotham.
Cast of Characters:	Stephanie Brown, Bruce Wayne

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Stephanie Brown has posed:
Stephanie Brown is sitting at a table a short stone's throw from the Batcomputer. She has a pair of headphones on which are connected to an old CD player. There are a stack of CD cases sitting on the table besides her. Labeled as being from bugs that are providing surveillance on a number of Gotham's underworld figures.

At the moment, the blond 21 year old has her head down, forehead resting on her hands. Like she could be sleeping, though someone skilled enough would notice her breathing has slowed enough for that. Just listening, apparently.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It has been an extremely busy weekend for Bruce and the signs are showing.

First of all, he's pulled out one of the older Batmobiles from cold storage that has no access to the Network. No remote control. No gadgets. While shit, specifically, doesn't bother him, the reasons for needing to certainly do. The converted Camero with sleek lines, and an integrated booster engine rocket where a trunk should be, roars into the hanger of the Batcave with the Dark Knight himself climb easily from the front seat amidst the squeals of bats in the rafters high above them. As if calling out to him.

Second is Damian. It's been on the news, where he might have usually put out a message to the Knights that Robin had been injured. The news states that he was, at least until this morning, in critical condition. This morning, however, he had signed himself out of the hospital AMA. Which result in a call from Wayne Tech that a very displeased FFA agent was reaching out to Bruce in regards to an illegal landing in New York by one of his Helicoptors.

As if there weren't enough things on his plate.

Third is the real threat that members of the team were turned by a vampire. The situation, while contained, is one he cannot press until the computers are back online. Which is the crux of the dower expression as he makes his way up the stairs to the landing where the Batcomputer sits. While it is on and accessable, it has no connection to any network. So aside from running a search on the databank for files already stored?

Bruce pulls his hood off and leaves it to hang back against his cape. Dark circles around his eyes, two days worth of shadow on his face. Blue eyes glance at Stephanie.. Head tilting. If she doesn't glance up, his foot nudges the table she's resting upon to get her attention.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Stephanie Brown does sit up as the sound of the older Batmobile coming in is enough to penetrate the earphones. She hits pause on the CD player and pulls the headphones off. "So this is what it was like living in the 1900s," she quips, though tired enough her tone lacks the humor that would normally accompany the words.

She glances over towards the old Batmobile. "Any word on..." she says, and gesture towards the Batcomputer. "Or on Damian?" She sets the headphones on the table. The empty CD case on top indicates it is from a bug planted in an office of a fence who takes care of a lot of mob work.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It's difficult to tell if Bruce is tired given how little sleep he can opperate on as effectively as if he'd full rest. There are bags under his eyes, of course. There's the shadow of beard growth. But his blue eyes are still sharp, resting on the stack of CDs. At Stephanie's appearance and the lack of humor in her voice when she attempts the quip. The blue eyes fix on her. Standing with his cape draped across his shoulders, partially covering his grey costume with the black bat symbol on the chest.

"No." Any word on the computer. "Tim and Barbara are working on a solution." He knows more than he says, of course. Bruce always knows more than he says. It's just not relevant to the question and wouldn't do Stephanie any good anyways. It wont turn them back on for her to know, so he leaves them unsaid. "Yes. He's upstairs." Alfred had informed him that Damian had returned a few hours ago with a young gentleman. Bruce had intended to come, meet this boy, but other matters got in the way.

After a moment, he shakes his head, "Before you leave, there's new equipment. Low tech tools, listening devices. As well as a casefile on the Vampire situation. Nobody is to be opperating along, for now. I assume Dick will be with you." Speaking of Alfred, he appears with tea and a warm towel. Bruce takes the towel first, "Thank you Alfred." Wiping at his face, cleaning the black smear makeup from around his eyes.

The tea, however, is set in front of Stephanie before he makes his way back towards the stairs. Bruce watches him for a moment, then looks back to Stephanie. "You know I know something's wrong. It will be easier for both of us if you just tell me what it is." He speaks quietly, but not turse, as he drops down into the seat at the computer. Still wiping at his face in long strokes.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Alfred gets a soft smile from Stephanie, if one that betrays she's been short on sleep too. She swivels in her chair, crossing a leg over the other, and then Bruce is setting the tea down in front of her. There's a brief moment that Stephanie seems about to tell him he needs it more than her or something. But then of course she realizes just how well that would work out.

"Thanks," she says instead, picking up the tea and taking a sip. "Just trying to find a lead on my dad. Now that he's resisting the compulsion to leave clues with everything he does, I'm not even sure if he's still in Gotham. There are a few things that could be him. Or could just be some other crews having pulled a good job," she says, giving a sigh.

"A lot of surveillance to go through looking for him, having to listen to it all by ear," she says, giving the stack of tapes a nudge. "I figure at some point though something is going to come up."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Bruce is listening, even if he's got his face covered with the warm rag. Letting those vapors wash away some of the exhaustion he no doubt feels and is remiss to show. Except in the way his head is lulled back against the back of his tall chair. The Way he's slumped into it. It could be mistaken for vulnerable, but it would, infact, be a mistake. He's as aware as ever in his relaxed position as if crouched above on a beam following prey through the shadows of an alley.

After several moments of silence, he pulls the rag from his face and sits up. Balling it into his fist when he leans forward to rest his forearms across his costumed thighs. It's not one of his armored suits, but something simpler. Still resistant, but without the extra weight and none of the gadgetry. A throwback. "Your father is psychologically incapable of leaving Gotham, Stephanie." He begins, cool voice, but not cruel. This is still her father, but he's still Batman. If they come to him for emotional support, they came to the wrong place.

"Continue to listen to the surveylance tapes, go through the evidence. Revisit the escape. Think about what you saw. Just because you didn't see a clue, doesn't mean he didn't leave one." Batman has dealt with Cluemaster before. Some of those clues are obvious, some of them are less so. He's like Riddler, to an extent. Sometimes it's not as simple as it appears on the surface to understand the message he's trying to send.

"Tell me what you remember. Say it out loud."

Stephanie Brown has posed:
"It's been a long time since the escape," she says. "Was fighting Amygdala. Ran up a wall and flipped over him, and slapped a sticky charge to the back of his head. Which was only enough to knock him off his feet," Stephanie recalls. "And me off mine too though obviously he got the worst of it."

She takes another sip of the tea, letting out a little sigh. "I looked up and he was standing there, offering a hand down to me. The explosion rang my bell for a moment, and just, in that moment, you know. I just saw dad reaching his hand down to help me," she recalls.

The girl's blue eyes search about for a moment, not looking at anything specific. Just reliving the moment. "And he started to pull me up, and kneed me in the face. Said F'ing Bats as he ran out through the hole that had been blown into Blackgate's wall," she recalls.

"After that, I had to get back up and Amygdala was recovering again, didn't have time to go after him. And we haven't found any signs of him since."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"That's admittedly very little to go on." Bruce has to admit, not finding much in the retelling that might point her in any specific direction. He leans back in his seat with his hands crossed atop his abdomen. One still clutching the blackened wash rag from cleaning the smear makeup from his eyes. "I understand the need to pour over every piece of evidence continuously expecting that something you've listened to a hundred times might sound different the hundred and first. I've done it myself." He furrows his brow, again dotting that cloth down one side of his face.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Stephanie holds the cup of tea in both hands, soaking up the warmth. The Batcave can be a little cool, underground as it is, even with summer starting. "Yes, with no signs of him doing something himself, I'm hoping someone he works with might slip up and say something. Or I'll find something that stands out as I review the different crimes of significance that have happened," she says. She glances over where there's a stack of folders with printouts of the last year of major thefts and burglaries.

"I did pick up something we missed before. One of Falcone's henchmen fencing an item I'm pretty sure was stolen from one of Salvatore Maroni's places. Need to run by and see if it's still there to confirm, but sounded like I've seen there. If so, might be something we can exploit."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Bruce dips his head in a single nod.

Clear that his own exhaustion is starting to catch up with him, even if he's not inclined to admit it. He pulls himself up from the chair and begins removing his cowl completely by unclasping the front of the cape. It's set into the case with the others, some of them higher and lower tech the that which he's wearing tonight. A suit for every occasion, they say. Though they usually say it about formal wear... that doesn't mean it's not still applicable.

"I brought out the case files for the last year." She's already looking at them, "Tim's been cataloguing them into a more organized format." Busy work, no doubt. Bruce is aware of where to find anything he might need to find, but it keeps the usually technology inclined son's hands busy.

"I need to get an hour of sleep." He starts towards the stairs that lead up into the mansion. "If you find anything that you feel is relevant to your search, let me know. I'll add it to the queue." He pauses at the table where she's sitting. "Do it after you sleep. Fresh eyes." It's not an order, but it's close. "Know your limitations, Stephanie."

He nods and starts towards the stairs once more, "I need to speak with Dick. Let him know." While things aren't as icy as they, perhaps, use to be between Bruce and his first son. He's less inclined to drop in on him as he is with the others. He will, of course, if he needs to. But they have a middle ground with Stephanie. "If you need me, I'm upstairs."