18470/For Drake's Sake!

For Drake's Sake!
Date of Scene:	30 June 2024
Location:	Level 4 - Kitchen and Dining - The Roost
Synopsis:	Nothing escapes Tim's notice. Rose's secret is out, she's been bit by a vampire but somehow avoided turning this far. A little fire, a little tease, and a little blood drawn for SCIENCE! Because Bats are gonna Bat.
Cast of Characters:	Rose Wilson, Tim Drake

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Rose Wilson has posed:
It's normal for Rose Wilson to be on the elusive side. Always conflicted, never at peace, stuck between trying to do what's right and good while constantly slipping back into what's wicked and wrong, she's never been a people person sort. If she didn't happen to have her own room here at the Roost it's likely no one here would ever see her.

The latter could double for most of the people here, sneaky hero sorts doing what they do best and all.

So long as she DOES live here there's still the risk of having to deal with the most dreaded of life's scenarios: Social Interaction. She can keep to herself all that she wants but sooner or later she needs to come out for air, to smoke, or to grab food (booze.)

Like right now. Here in the kitchen, looking like she had just come back from running a marathon judging by how sweaty she looks. From the outside she looks normal enough, if not dressed a bit warmly for the Summer temps with all of the ratty denim along with a jacket with a turned up collar. But Tim knows this girl and has seen more sides of her than just about anyone. She's moving stiffly. Her balance isn't all there. Something's not alright with Ravager.

Tim Drake has posed:
"What's wrong with you?"

Tim Drake has entered the room. Or he's been here. It could be any combination of the two considering just how he likes to move around the Roost. He's rocking his favorite pair of blue sweatpants and a 'My TARDIS Is Bigger Than Yours." t-shirt but whatever he was about to do has long since been forgotten since he's taken all of twenty seconds to know and recognize that something is not right about Rose. Which is why he's looking at her with concern and his blunt question has come pouring out of his lips.

In his mind, he's already running through possible scenarios and sicknesses that could be affecting the world of Rose Wilson and rifling through his memory on everything that he knows how to fix. He's ready for everything and maybe even anything that could possibly come at him as a response.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose startles slightly. This could also be unusual for her except the startlee happens to be Tim, an expert at being annoyingly sneaky. She's never enjoyed being caught off guard for a multitude of reasons but the sudden spike in her anger is wrangled back down a few degrees solely with regards to who was responsible for poking it.

As much as she wants to immediately tell Tim off she manages to come up with some other lame excuse to run with. "The milk's expired" she lies, having not made it as far as the fridge to bother looking. Not that she would have looked. Either the milk smelled funny or it's fine!

Realizing this probably won't work she tries to deflect more. "Been busy working the streets?" she asks, more like one might ask a lady of the eve if she's been turning lots of tricks rather than asking about a vigilante's masked activities.

Following the question is a momentary slip in her defenses, she -does- turn to glance at her former boyfriend. It was meant to be a quick and subtle glance but the wording of Tim's shirt makes her pause long enough to recognize it, similarly unable to keep herself from smirking.

"Nerd."

Her reluctance to look becomes clear enough, that one blue eye looking bloodshot in that 'I just woke up from a thirteen hour bender' sort of way.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Lie. I never let the milk expire." Tim even goes so far as to hold up his phone. On which the calendar app is present. On which the Milk's Sell By, Use By and Expiration Dates are clearly labeled. This must be his Roost Related Phone. Tim has a lot of phones.

"My patrols are as crime filled as they've ever been. And certainly not distressing enough to be a proper deflection from your current state of unwellness. I'll give you a point for trying, though." Tim steps further into the kitchen area and crosses to get closer to Rose.

"If you don't want to tell me what's wrong, I'll just have to examine you myself. Sit down." Tim's making a mental note of the one good but bloodshot eye and already frowning.

"... you love this shirt. Don't start." There. A half-smirk. See? He's not all busine-- nope, he's back to serious frown now. With a hint of worry.

Rose Wilson has posed:
She doesn't need to see Tim's phone, she can FEEL it. The guy's got a spreadsheet for everything, right down to how much toothpaste is in the damn tube! No, Rose is so not going to validate the guy by looking at The Phone.

When he offers a point for her first failed attempt there's a curling of fingers in one hand to form a fist. Still fighting that Wilson Ire... Tim knows how to push her buttons, but to be fair they are all incredibly easy to push.

Telling her to sit down, though? "Not happening." It's the most polite way she can think of to tell him to go screw himself in a dark closet.

But the shirt... That goddamn shirt. It's a classic ice-breaker and she frickin' fell for it yet again. "See, that's the problem we always had" she suddenly does a complete about-face in both their awkward conversation and in her posture. He already knows something's up so she turns and faces him square on. It's not like she could ever hide anything from the guy, anyway. Not for long.

"'Don't start, don't stop,' you've always given me mixed signals" she teases.

More deflection. Definitely still Rose in there.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Fine. Stand." The old reverse psychology trick is coming out of the short sleeve of Tim Drake. He shrugs as if he doesn't care if she doesn't want to sit down because he's going to examine her anyway. As the way he reaches above one of the counter tops to grab one of his many medical bags he has stashed around here. This one is not as useless as a first aid kit but it's one of his special ones. So it has all kinds of scientific stuff in it... in addition to normal medical stuff.

The bag gets dropped onto the table and he pops it open to grab his pen light. "What can I say? I'm complicated." Tim doesn't deny the mixed signaling in favor of being able to get close enough so that he can raise the pen light and click it on. Time to shine it into Rose's eye. He said he was going to examine her so he's just going for it. It might get him punched but he's going for it anyway.

"How long have you been feeling less than a hundred percent?" Looks like he's not worried about her deflections anymore.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Rose dramatically rolls her single eye with an equally dramatic sigh, asking "Are we -really- going to do this?" when she already knows the answer to the question.

She could play hard to get, and part of her is already debating it. If she took off he would give chase and she just loooves a bit of Cat and Mouse. He's a difficult one to hide from!

And yet... She stands her ground, neither approaching nor retreating. Something's keeping her in place for the moment.

"A complicated pain in the ass" she amends.

As soon as the pen light hits her eye the girl's attitude changes. To her credit Tim doesn't get gut-punched but there's a firm, if not clammy, hand snapping onto his wrist to push the light away from her face.

"How long have you been wanting to play 'Doctor?'" she asks, deflecting yet again. Her temperature in that one hand is way off, she's running a wicked fever. There's a note of skin irritation where shoulder and neck meet on one side, covered as best as it can be by her jacket but it's managed to spread further out.

A typical defiant stare from her lone eye falters momentarily, a glance flicking down to Tim's own neck. There and gone like it had never happened, like a whispered suggestion in the back of her mind.

Tim Drake has posed:
"You like complicated pains in the ass." Tim is just stating this as if he's speaking facts. Considering their history, perhaps he's speaking at least a bit of the facts. Maybe he had a little extra sauce to get her to like him but he's still a pain in the ass. The complications are a given.

"Oh, I hated playing doctor. Nobody would ever do it right. I lost so many clipboards when I was seven." This fake story is enough of a personal distraction that he doesn't take offense to his hand getting pulled away.

"Huh." Whether Tim has noticed the different temperatures or the way her eye moved or the sensitivity/hating of the light... it's all come down to what comes out of his mouth next. But he takes his time getting there as he clicks the pen light and drops it back into the bag. He pulls out a chair at the table and drops down onto it.

For a long moment he just kind of stares at the top of the table while probably running through a collection of possible scenarios and outcomes in his head. Finally, Tim looks up and those words come out.

"How come you haven't turned?"

HE KNOWS.

Rose Wilson has posed:
When Tim calls out Rose's preference in partners her lone eye dances back and forth between both of his, challenging at first but ultimately resulting in a faint grin and the admission "Guilty as charged."

The matter of clipboards works well as a distraction, she's more confused by the comment than anything. Precious seconds are spent trying to work out exactly what he meant by this, most of the time given toward figuring out uses for clipboards which they had never been intended for.

His following 'huh' is dismissive enough that she releases his wrist and turns away. She had wandered in here in search of sustenance, after all! The glance at his neck turned out to not fulfill the need, she's still craving proper food and drink. Maybe some coffee. Yes, she needs an upper more than a downer this--

'How come you haven't turned?'

Of COURSE he'd know. Tim's a smart cookie, he always figures it out. Rose KNEW he would, too. Detective work is his jam! And she had -all this time- to break away and disappear into Gotham's countless hidey holes...

But she didn't.

The question is ignored at first, her desire to go through the motions to make coffee suddenly gone. She stands in front of a fridge with the door wide open, staring vacantly at its offerings while tightening her jaw against a shiver from its chill.

"No idea" she grunts, grabbing a can of soda and pushing the door closed more firmly than necessary. Cans rattle inside as the seal reforms but she still doesn't turn, now staring at the door itself.

"Happened a while ago."

Tim Drake has posed:
"We're going to have to keep an eye on you. You're, apparently, not a danger now but if you become one, we're going to have to isolate you. I have a few options." Tim doesn't seem to be bothered beyond the fact that he's already planning ahead. That's what he does. He plans. Emotions are going to have to wait until the plans are in motion-- which he's starting to get the wheels for such turning at this exact moment.

"Batman's working on a cure. Soon as I get it, you get it." That part is said as if there's no questions or worry about a cure not happening. Tim has all the faith in the world in Batman and if, by some weird twist of fate, Batman does not come through... he'll do it himself.

"I know this isn't going to be the weirdest thing that I've asked you but..." A hand comes up and he's holding a syringe with an empty vial attached to it. "Can I get a blood sample? I'm assuming your healing ability is softening the vampiric blow but I'd like to run a few dozen tests to see if I can get some more intel on all of this." Tim does not necessarily seem like he wants to be dealing with vampires but what's happening is what's happening and he's going to protect Gotham from whatever seeks to ail it.

"How long is a while ago?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
"'Not a danger now?'" Rose suddenly cuts in, turning to give Tim one of those highly annoyed looks. Like no one's been taking her seriously all this time! But the matter is low on the Annoyance Totem. Further up is the idea of her being quarantined. As if!

She turns on her heel and sets the aluminum can down on the nearest surface with a meaningful *thunk* while again pinning Tim with her half-stare. "Oh DO continue" she challenges.

Wait.

A CURE?

But she hasn't turned. She's still ... mostly herself!

Then the guy holds up a syringe like he had been waiting his whole life for this very scenario. "Come any closer with that and it's finding a new home up your ass" she warns.

How long? A slight shrug, favoring her non-bit shoulder. "Days? Maybe? I don't frickin' know." Partly because she suffered one heck of a head injury from her resulting fall, partly because she's been feeling awful and hadn't cared about much of anything.

"How long's the Big Bat been working on this, then? It must have been widespread enough for him to bother. I thought neck-biters were supposed to be all about keeping themselves hidden, anyway."

Which brings her to another point she had been actively puzzling over, "Who'd want to turn -me?- Did I meet the pale skin prerequisite or some shit? I don't even watch that many vampy movies!"

Tim Drake has posed:
"Ooookay. So you don't want me to fix you, then?"

That's the Annoyed Tim voice that Rose probably knows way too well considering the fact that he's probably been annoyed by her so many times in their collective past. But he does put the syringe down on the table. "All I want is to help. If you don't want me to do it, could you do it to yourself then?" Tim /almost/ sounds a little hurt. As if, after all they've been through, she doesn't trust him enough to take some blood. If anybody was going to do anything untoward with it, it certainly would not be Tim.

He'll get it another way then. Later. He's already making three to four different plans for such.

"Vampirism is tricky. Batman and I have been trying to science it but it's not a wholly scientific process. There are, unfortunately, mystical variables that we're having to deal with on top of the physiological changes we're trying to eliminate... not just suppress." Which may mean that they've managed to create at least something in their time in dealing with this.

"I've been working on a repelling agent that should help keep the vampires from feeding on the city. We don't want to be overrun by them, that's for sure." Tim's probably not helping with this information. None of this is explaining why this is happening or why there are vampires not remaining hidden. It's all really weird and against type as far as lore and research are concerned.

Then Tim gets the chance to offer a small smirk as he crafts up a response. "What, you mean you haven't heard? Vampires have been trying to really up their 'hot' quota. So, naturally, you're on the Bite List."

Rose Wilson has posed:
It isn't that Rose doesn't trust Tim to take the sample. It's that by doing so she's admitting to them both that she has a problem, and one which she alone cannot fix. Pride is her sin of the moment.

First, she has her own questions. Whoever heard of a 'cure' for vampirism, anyway? One that doesn't involve a stake to the heart, or whatever?

It's 'tricky.' A half amused, half frustrated snort sounds from the one-eyed girl as hands fall upon her hips, one quickly coming away to wipe at her face. "How do you science that which cannot be scienced" she mildly jokes. "So that's what you've been up to. A proper experiment you two can geek over."

And to think, soon some of her own blood will be occupying one of those petri dishes! How romantic.

A repelling agent, "What, like bug spray for biters?" she asks then shakes her head. "Yeah, no thanks. Gotham's got enough problems without someone unleashing the coven in the middle of the night. If you need help -staking- the bastards then count me in. Now I've got a score to settle."

After all of this Tim scores a critical success with the 'hot quota' remark. The sound of amusement from Rose may be both faint and short lived but it's genuine. "Another one of your last minute saves."

She looks from one side of the room to the next then fills her aching lungs, chin coming up as she slowly drifts toward the fellow vigilante. Without breaking eye contact she reaches out for the abandoned syringe and removes it from the table, bringing herself almost nose to nose with Tim as the implement is held up beside them.

"Only for you" she offers with a twitch of the needle for emphasis. The threat which immediately follows certainly seems serious until the faint hook of her lips after its complete delivery: "But if you go around telling your buddies you scored with my veins I will break your face."

Tim Drake has posed:
"I put my foot in my mouth often but I can always get it back out again."

Tim keeps a smirk on his face while saying this kind of thing that may or may not be too far considering that they are not together anymore. "Science is more powerful than you think. Which could assist us in saving instead of staking. We're not there yet but we've made some progress." A beat. "Making some progress." He really doesn't want to give out too much information about the plan that's being worked on. Batman probably will be mad that he's said this much.

But it's Rose.

Tim is all about being as calm and unbothered by Rose even during this intense stare down. He doesn't flinch. He doesn't even allow his breathing to change. He doesn't want to intimidate back or anything but he's showing just how calm he is around her. He doesn't need to prove that he's not afraid but he does want to prove that he's so comfortable with her that he trusts her with this close proximity of his life.

When the syringe is held up, Tim doesn't break eye contact with Rose's good eye. He knows exactly where to stab and makes sure to do it perfectly and without anything going wrong. Her threat is met with a soft grin. "Our secret." is whispered almost too softly while he pulls the syringe back out, vial of blood all nice and filled.

It takes a moment before he breaks his gaze from Rose's gaze and almost immediately goes back into nerd mode. "I'm going to fix this, Rose. I promise." And now that he's looking away he can sound even more earnest than he's been sounding this entire time. This one's hitting a little too close to home.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Against all odds" Rose can't help but add about Tim extracting his foot when necessary.

Where she does give him credit is the confession "That science of yours has done a lot for the time we've all been together." The Outsiders, the Roost, the team's connectivity. Even when he's not there as Red Robin directly his indirect influence is always present.

It's how he remains so calm in the face of all of those thorns which does the most good. Even now, nicely separated from that 'it's complicated' relationship status, Tim somehow manages to provide stability and a moral compass which she's so often lacking. Somehow the trust stays mutual, all of her bitching and making threats aside.

When he goes to take the sample she only moves as far as to free an arm from her jacket, now choosing to reveal to someone other than herself the angry bite marks in their failed stages of healing. It's hard to say how far out it's been for her but 'days' seems a bit of an understatement, she could potentially have been fighting this off for a month or more. A stubborn virus trying to exert control over a stubborn person, neither making any real headway.

Tim's promise of it being their secret gets a light smile in response as she quickly returns to the cover of the extra layer of denim. His other promise to fix the matter prompts a much softer voiced "I know" as some of her buried compassion breaches the outer-most shell.

As Tim turns she reaches for her drink and drops right back into sassy mode, stating "You have my numbers. Go forth and geek."

She needs to clear her head, which means it's time for more contract work. Screw the chills and achey joints, she's still better than most people out there.

Just like Tim Drake when he's chilling in a lab.