3083/Court of Owls: Bloodlines--A Little Test

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Court of Owls: Bloodlines--A Little Test
Date of Scene: 24 August 2020
Location: Old Gotham - Founders Island
Synopsis: Dick gets his butt kicked. Thankfully, Beacon can fix him up.
Cast of Characters: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Phoebe Beacon




Tim Drake has posed:
It's around 1AM in Gotham, and so far, it's been a quiet night. Batman had decreed that patrols in Gotham were to be done in pairs, and he's been holding to that, which has brought Nightwing in from Bludhaven to supplement fairly often of late. Usually, Red Robin paired up with Ravager or Red Hood for patrol, but Ravager would also sometimes pair with Hood and tonight that is the case, with those two up on Bleake Island for the night, as far from Nightwing and Red Robin as one can get and still be in the city proper.

Old Gotham is perhaps Red Robin's least favorite area to patrol... it gives him the creeps. The winding streets seem to have no logic in their layout, with buildings built on top of each other in a strange mish-mash of old meets ancient architecture and likely there is nothing to anything approaching a building code here. Flat roofs mix with slanted, tile with stone. Worst of all, while patrolling up on Migani or Bleake allows one to keep to the rooftops more often than not; Founder's Island, but especially old Gotham, requires patrols that include slinking unseen through underground tunnels, half-exposed old sewer systems, and treacherous alleyways that end or turn sharply without warning.

Old Gotham is ripe for ambushes, and though it didn't suffer much phsyical damage almost a decade ago during No Man's Land, it was one of the more tenaciously held areas by the villains and their goons that controlled it.

The only thing good about it is that after that terrible time period had died down, crime had mostly returned to the normal places of Gotham... the Narrows, the slums, the halls of power. The crumbling mausleoums and buildings of the earliest settlement on the islands was largely left alone by those who craved more infrastructure even just to exploit it. Most of the buildings here were questionable as to if they had power, or cable, or even in some cases functional running water. Even goons need a shower.

Red Robin stands on one of the slanted rooftops along Delft street, his eyes narrowing behind the whites of his domino mask as he scans down the empty street. His silhouette is clear in the moonlight, making him a target, but true stealth isn't as simple on these rooftops as they are on the northern two islands. <<Delft is clear, Nightwing. Moving to Arnhem in a few moments.>> His staff is already out and extended, a bit more wary than he has been in the past on these sorts of nights. The quiet patrols of the last couple of weeks have actually been eating at him: nothing stays quiet in Gotham this long.

With a snikt!click! of his grappling gun, cape fluttering behind him, Red Robin flies across Delft street and lands on oone of the tiled rooftops across the way before making his way across it and over another towards Arnhem Way. <<Do we have to hit the underground tonight?>> he mock complains over comms. <<Can't we just pretend we did?>> He is joking, and Dick would know that. Tim may grumble about some things, but at the end of the day, he's as dedicated to The Job as any of them.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing is a little more at home in the blocks of Old Gotham, but that comes with experience, familiarity with the strange quirks from an organic, unplanned layout helped over the years, but it still was the most labyrinthine chunks of the city. He may not be Red Robin's regular partner, but Dick is not the worst person to be stuck with. He was actually having a decent patrol, everything going fairly smoothly.

<<Listen, the /one time/ we don't do it, either A. Something will happen down there or B. Boss will know. Make that an and/or. Can't rule that out.>> Nightwing picked up on the joke, but may as well run with it, <<Besides, it might actually be /fun/ for once.>> He grapples over to the next roof next to Tim, though keeping low to avoid being visible.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Not everyone patrolled the rooftops, or for the same reasons.

    An Outsider, Beacon had her own doings to tend to nearby, wandering down the alleyways in her particular manner, clad in the new 'outfit' set up by Tim for her use. She checks over boxes, making sure no one's sleeping within, wandering her way through the back alleys on her own.

Tim Drake has posed:
<<Fun. Sure.>> Red Robin sounds entirely lacking in being convinced. <<Because the pitch-black undercity is //ever// fun. I'm just glad my damn mask has night vision.>> Nightwing's does too. It's a standard now on all the Bats, and Red Robin shudders remembering the couple of times he had been down in the undercity with just a thin red light. Much worse. He'll take the nightvision any day.

He crouches down besides Nightwing. <<What's the plan?>> he asks, deferring to the older and more experienced Robin. <<Want me to take the west tunnels in, or south?>> His expression is serious.

Dick Grayson has posed:
<<Back in my day, we had to make do in the dark or risk a light, all while underwater, in the freezing rain, uphill both ways!>> Nightwing jokes, looking over to Red Robin. He checks his HUD for a quick map check and then notes to Red Robin, <<All right, you can go south to the Arnhem entrance and I'll take west to Naaden, next rendezvous point being the cross.>> While he is still business-like, he tries to keep it light where he can, good for the mental health.

After Red Robin confirms, Nightwing grappels over to the next building and will continue his way to the underground entrance he chose, keeping to the shadows where possible, and keeping an eye open for danger.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Beacon adjusts the gray hood that hides her face and its domino, and she breathes out. She knew a bit of the underground... from talking about it to others. She ducks her head a moment, eyeballing the darkness beneath, and then slips herself through one of the broken pieces of building in one of the worse-for-wear alleyways, dropping down into the dark. The healer lands in a crouch, dark eyes narrowed as he twists on a dim, red flashlight, keeping it pointed at the ground.

    This place was already giving her the willies. Yeesh.

Tim Drake has posed:
Muttering a curse under his breath that isn't loud enough to pick up on comms, Red Robin slips off the rooftop and lands acrobatically on the alleyside of the building. He gives Nightwing a thumbs up before the other grapples over towards his own goal, Red Robin slipping down the winding alleyway and grimacing as he slides between two buildings (thankfully only for about five feet before being freed again) and ending up in the backyard (such that it is) of another. He activates his scanners-- good. No body heat on the scans. That lets him jimmy the back door of the abandoned building open, creeping through the building towards the stairs to the basement, and then popping open the grate in the floor and dropping down into the street of the undercity underneath it. He takes a step to the side of the broken-cobbled street, his back hitting the wall of what was once a shop of some sort as his HUD adjusts to the pitch blackness.

<<I hate this place, D--Nightwing.>> The almost-slip is pretty indicative of just how uncomfortable Red Robin is. <<Let's get moving. Quicker we get done, the quicker we can get topside and finish up and get the hell out of here.>>

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing returns the thumbsup, <<That's the plan, be thorough, be quick, be back in the world of the living.>> He does not comment on the near slip, it happens to all of them from time to time, especially when he almost calls Red Robin by Robin. He stretches his neck and puts his skills to use quietly making his way down a fire escape towards the next step on his route, a building that had seen many uses, though only one consistent one: access to the undercity.

Like Red Robin, Nightwing does not detect any heat signatures on his HUD before cracking the door open and sneaking into the room where the trapdoor he's used many times before waits. Once Nightwing closes the door behind him quietly, he slowly pries the hatch open and after a cursory check, jumps down, his HUD adjusting for the lack of light, and then the wrongness of the place hits him.

It is a place out of time, like petrified wood. Clearly it was a thing once, but it is not entirely that. Well preserved in the way taxidermy is. Something is never quite right about it, but it is hard to figure out exactly what.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    It's never going to be homey, that's for sure. Phoebe draws her hood a little closer as she walks along in the darkness, her red light was down, illuminating the ground in front of her, before she peers down a corner in the Undercity. It felt colder down here, even out of the rain as she looks up at the walls and the ceiling of the tunnel.

    Her lips purse slightly as she continues walking.

Tim Drake has posed:
As soon as his vision adjusts, which isn't long, Red Robin is on the move, stealthily making his way down the undercity street, feeling the press of the city above overhead. He'd conquered his fear of heights and claustrophobia long ago, but even still, there's something disconcerting about the whole place. Still, this isn't the first time, nor even the second, fifth, or tenth he's been down this way on patrol, and usually alone before this whole Court situation had come to pass. So he grits his teeth and keeps an eye out for people or Killer Crocs.

Or Clayface. God, he doesn't want to deal with Clayface tonight, he'd rather deal with Croc.

The ghosts of a dozen rogues play across his mind as the darkness seems to swallow him up. Use the darkness, he had been told. Become one with it. Let it protect you. And up topside, Tim could get behind that.

Underground, though, he wasn't so sure about it.

He knows the place unnerves him though, and his knowledge of that is almost what does him in. There's a ghost of a shadow in the periphery of his view, a flash of white in the darkness. But no heat, and for a split second he dismisses it as his mind playing tricks on him.

That almost costs him.

At the last moment the greyish white comes into focus, and the man in the tufted owl mask and dark goggles doesn't get his mark as Red Robin brings his staff up to block, but not counter. Too late for that. Block, and tuck and roll away to the side into a defensive crouch...

Back to a wall of one of the underbuildings, his HUD focuses. Not one. Two. The other had been behind him. There's a dark something on the floor, and Red Robin realizes it's part of his cape.

They turn, fluid motion, even without any sign of body heat. Two blades each to hand, others visible strapped to their chests and backs. And they move towards him.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing continues his patrol through the underworld of Gotham. There is nothing about this he likes. If he wanted to patrol alone there were other places to do it that did not feel like a tomb on the best of days. But, there is a reason they patrolled down here, because some preferred it here and it was better to deal with their plots earlier than when they sprouted and plagued the surface.

The HUD unit installed on the masks was a huge improvement from their old designs, but Nightwing is aware of the limitations of it and has his sticks out, hoping to at least be ready for any threat to show up, but instead it is only met with eerie silence. Each quiet footstep going deeper towards the cross pass by over what feels like a millenium when the paranoia pays off and from behind Dick feels a thud as a boot slams into his back. Fortunately, this is not Nightwing's first rodeo, or acrobatic act, and is able to roll forward and kip up, turning to face his opponent.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Heh." The man in the goggles chuckles. "Not bad." He draws a strangely shaped sword from his back, pointing it at Nightwing. It's not entirely menacing. It's not entirely not, either.

"Let's see what you're capable of, Dick."

And he moves, fast. Almost too fast. He slashes once, twice, three times, each countered barely with Nightwing's escrima, but with his other hand he slams a dagger into Nightwing's side. If the suit was just spandex, he'd be gutted. But the Bat Family's armor generally turns knives and small arms fire...

But not always. The dagger sinks in, though not as deeply as it otherwise might, partially turned by Nightwing's costume.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe is quiet as she walks through the creepy gloominess of the undercity. She breathes out, clipping her red light to her cape, breathing out quietly as he slips by on quiet feet, until she paues.

    She straightens up slightly, and calls out a soft 'Hello?'

    Was that a footstep, or just her imagination?

Tim Drake has posed:
It was a footstep. There's a sound of pebbles being kicked even as the Talon in front of Beacon lunges, two daggers in hand, coming into the view of the red light. A man, likely, though dressed in a strange owl costume with over large goggles. He doesn't speak. He only slashes with those blades.

Tim Drake has posed:
<<Shit.>> That's all Red Robin manages over the comms at first, already up and moving as to not be blocked in. He remembered the last fight he had with one of the Talons... just one. He keeps his staff up warily, glancing down the street. He begins strafing slightly, heading towards one of the junctures. If he's going to have to fight two, he'd rather have room to move, to fight. But he doesn't get far before they are both on him. It's all he can manage to use footwork and his staff to keep their blades form landing, but he's done this dance before and he knows he's going to tired before they do.

Dick Grayson has posed:
<<Problem!>> is all Dick can manage when he hears the comment from his enemy. His sticks are quick, able to parry, though he is not quite in a spot for seizing the initiative quite yet. Whoever this is is clearly capable of matching Dick strike for strike, but even the former Robin can not keep up forever and a parry a milisecond too late results in a dagger finding the missing spot in his armor. This is the downside of Dick being one of the least-armored Robin alumni. Dick winces and snarls and takes his shot, lashing out, aiming for the threat's elbow with a stick, while trying to spin away to prevent him from jabbing or twisting the knife deeper.

"Not today, whoever you are," Nightwing says and is unable to respond to Red Robin immediately, as he returns in an attack, albeit slowed by the wound and favoring that side in his movements, so definitely not at one hundred percent.

Tim Drake has posed:
"First blood is mine," the Talon says with a dark chuckle. His elbow moves out of the way just in time, slashing and pressing Nightwing, raining blows down on the black-and-blue clad Batling's body. He brings down his sword on Nightwing's hand, knocking one of the escrima aside and stepping in to take advantage of this.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe steps backwards as the Talon makes his attack. She lets her eyes go wide, and she breathes out quietly. She lets him come into her space, and then draws her hand up. She narrows her eyes, drawoing the Talon's hand down, guiding it to the side to put him facing a wall -- and tries to slam him into it!

    "I'm not own here looking for trouble. Just trying to find someone." she states, backing off a couple of steps, bringing her hand down a minute. "Look like I found it though."

Tim Drake has posed:
The Talon attacking Pheobe doesn't speak, and the slam into the wall doesn't seem to even faze him. He bounces back and slashes at her again, single minded in his determination. He advances, trying to back her into a corner in order to make his kill.

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin lets one hand off his staff... less control, but he reaches into his utility belt and flicks on one of the batarangs there... an explosive one. <<Fire in the hole!>> he warns over comms, retracting his staff in a single move as he dives backwards, flinging the batarang towards his opponents.

It hits the floor between them and explodes, cracking the cobbles and flinging them both to opposite sides of the street.

Tim hits the ground and rolls, exchanging one staff for another, this one purple, though in the dark who can tell. It extends and as he spins it, makes a slightly whistling noise. "I hope this prototype works," he says outloud to no one in particular. There's no one close enough to hear.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"So it seems, but you're the only one using blades," Nightwing retorts, though the sword-wielding assailant is somehow able to disarm him with apparent ease. This is not good. Dick is genuinely worried at this point, though he does manage to begin to step back a few paces, to hopefully keep the fight moving, as a stand-still fight will only end up with him getting gutted, though a slash along his forearm is his price for trying. Dick would reach for his belt when the /boom/ goes off.

Nightwing takes this opportunity to roll over to where he saw his stick was and he recovers it, though he is slowed a bit, <<Might need some help,>> Dick calls out over comms, his voice betraying his very real concern.

Tim Drake has posed:
"I expect better from you," the Talon tsks. He almost //waits// for Dick to get back to his feet before he lunges again, sword and dagger diving and slashing, mostly but not completely countered by Nightwing's escrima. Another slash gets in past Dick's defenses, this one across the blue wings on his chest, cutting deeply into the armor, leaving a bloody trail of wreckage.

"You should bear a blade, too," he continues, not even winded. "But you're weak."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The Gotham Beacon breathes out as she continues to back away from the daggers. However, Beacon is also relatively unarmed. She banks to the left, avoiding the blades as she tries to side-step the man, feeling the cobbles beneath her feet. Her eyes are wide behind the domino she wears as she pitches her breath up a tick -- and then?

    BOOM.

    The undercity gives a little shudder, and the sound distracts her for just a moment -- and she take the rattle of the city to bring her arm behind her, close her eyes,and she summons her staff.

    The light that floods the darkness is like staring into the sun -- and she baseball swings the solid light, hoping to land either a solid-hit while her enemy is stunned or at least put some distance between them -- and then turns to *run like hell*.

Tim Drake has posed:
Thankfully for Beacon, the Talon doesn't pursue. If she looks back, it seems to take back up a...

...patrolling...

...sort of response, simply slipping back into the darkness after she's no longer 'in range'.

<<Problems of my own!>> is all Red Robin is able to respond over comms as the Talons get back to their feet fluidly and attack him from either side. *thwipthwipthwipthwip* He spins the staff quickly as they approach, which looks stupid until suddenly the ends alight with flame. His HUD crackles a bit as it tries to adjust between the pitch black and the bright flame, so Tim simply closes his eyes behind the mask, relying on what he saw before the flames alight and trusting his hearing. The staff stops spinning, and he lunges forward, stabbing into one of the Talons with one flaming end and the other in short succession with the other. The flames go out on the staff, but the Talons costumes themselves alight.

<<Nightwing, I'm retreating in your direction, heading down the mainway now.>>

No time for stealth, booted feet pound the cobbles as Red Robin opens his eyes to the grim grey world of the headsup display. <<Two behind me, hopefully slowed.>>

Dick Grayson has posed:
<<Disregard, fall back, fall back, too hot in here,>> Nightwing notes, bleeding profusely from his sides. It's not immediately lethal, but he will need medical help soon. He winces and takes a note out of Red Robin's playbook and after quickly moving one of his sticks to be held with the other one hand (it's not comfortable, but it is doable) he whips out a flashbang wingding and chucks it down between him and the unknown threat and moves as quickly as he can, switching the stick back to his hand and calling over comms, <<Meet at the nearest fallback point. Hang tight and have medical ready.>> Adrenaline pumping through his veins helps Nightwing cover the ground he needs to, though his wounds are slowing him a bit by this point.

Tim Drake has posed:
The Talon is actually taken aback by the flashbang, and when his eyes adjust back to the darkness, his prey is gone.

For now.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe is not part of the conversation. She's running, her way illuminated by the red light at her shoulder as she books it without regard for her safety. She trips on a loose cobble, dislodging it and tucks, rolls, and is back to her feet. She skids, taking a left at a cross section, and keeps running as fast as her boots will carry her!

Tim Drake has posed:
Staring down the cobbled street in the direct Nightwing is sure to have gone, William Cobb removes his mask and laughs. "I'll see you again soon... Dick Grayson."

Red Robin slides into one of the multitude of small buildings. This one he knows, though, as one of the ways up into the world above. He tosses the burning wreckage of what remains of his flame staff aside-- already has a couple ideas for improvements actually-- and //leaps//, gauntleted hands snagging the grate in the ceiling. Hanging there, shoulders burning, he moves his hands one by one to the sides of the grate, leveraging himself to shove it up and out, and then pulling himself up and into one of the few still-functional buildings in the area, which happens to be a bakery. He kicks the grate back over and makes his way out the back through the small of yeast and dough, popping the lock on the back door off and then carefully locking it back again.

That was close.

He doesn't bother with stealth now either, running down the nearby alleyways, just happening to be passing the place Pheobe had entered and will be exiting the undercity as he does, on his way to the old 'mercat square' for rendevous.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Now is the time to run. Dick is breathing a bit heavier than he normally would be, but that is the way of things. He is beating a hasty retreat, escrima sticks held like relay batons as he zooms toward the trap door, which he is able to climb up, with some degree of pain, and is soon back in the world of the living and the place of not getting stabbed. He sheathes his sticks as he replaces the door and is quickly out the door to fresh air, hurrying towards the mercat square for the rendezvous.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe finds her entry point, and lunges for it, swinging from one of the hand-holds welded into the old wall, and squeezes herself up and out near the bakery, scrabbling back on her rear end, and kicking away from the hole, watching for a few moments as if expecting the owlish head of the talon to poke his head through. She breathes out a few ticks, and then turns, booking it out of the alleyway, making her way towards the square for an unexpected apearance.

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin makes the mercat first, the remains of his tattered cloak hanging limply behind him. He's surprisingly unharmed, and he's as suprised by that as anyone, though Nightwing had mentioned needing medical. He already has his trauma kit yanked from his utility belt, moving towards the more protected space between two of the buildings to be out of sight as best as possible, eyes peeled for Nightwing. <<I'm in the gap between the museum and the carriage house,>> he says over comms. <<How bad are you? Do I need to call for a Batwing evac?>>

Dick Grayson has posed:
<<Uncertain, been focused on egress,>> Dick notes over comms, hustling towards the area designated by Red Robin. Once he gets there, Dick breathes a sigh of relief and slumps against the wall and applies pressure to the less severe of the wounds, or at least the one that hurts less, so that Tim can examine the other. Neither are pretty, and the black and blue suit definitely has red marks on it. "I worked so hard to not have to wear a red suit anymore," he jokes.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Phoebe comes around a corner, just in time to see the tattered remains of the cape of Red Robin. She pauses a moment, hitching her breath a moment before she turns on the Outsider shortband:

    <... Red? Are you in Mercat?> comes a familiar voice over the band, and Phoebe begins to slowly make her way towards where she had seen that tattered cloak turn. Her heart is thudding in her chest and her own adreniline is up.

Tim Drake has posed:
<Beacon?> Red Robin's eyebrows go up behind his mask. <You're in Old Gotham? What are you doing down here? Are you alone? It's dangerous!> His adrenaline is a little high as well. "You may be in some small luck, Nightwing," Red Robin notes. <Over by the museum. Nightwing's been hurt, if you have mojo.>

He kneels down beside his 'older brother' and checks the wounds, grimacing. "Damn, they got you good. This one on your side I can see the wiggly bits," he jokes-but-not-joking. "Stay still. Running didn't help." He's already grabbing a large gauze in case Beacon is burned out for whatever reason.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Better I ran than if I didn't," Dick chuckles, then winces, because laughing hurts. He nods to Tim, though, "Yeah, definitely running on fumes here. Not sure if our usual medkits will be enough, but may as well try to get me stable before I move, but there's possibly a clock ticking." Nightwing tries to get comfortable, but to no avail.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    <Following up on a lead on a missing man, said he went into the Undercity through a crack in the building was going to use it to shelter through the winter.> Beacon replies back, and she comes around the corner. <Just used my staff for a flash--> she continues, turning off the band, and she pulls back her hood a bit as she comes accross the duo. "How bad?" she asks, almost apprehensive, and she purses her lips as she looks to Nightwing. "I'm here to help." she explains gently.

    As gently as a nervous teenager could get, anyway.

    She makes a face as he gets down to brass tacks. "At least it's relatively clean, and fresh." she murmurs. "What happened?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"Owl ninja zombies," Red Robin replies dryly. "At least that's what jumped me, I assume the same for Nightwing. The sharp stabby bits seem to fit their schtick too." He steps back a bit, taking a more watchful stance, a staff quickly coming to hand if not extended. "I'll cover you both, if you can help him, Beacon."

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Seems about right," Nightwing says with a nod, "Knew a lot more than I expected," hoping Tim would get the hint. "But yeah, Nightwing, glad to meet ya," Dick says to Phoebe as she arrives on the scene, "You some sort of medic? If so, or know anything about medicine, thanks for the help."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "That sounds too stupidly ridiculous to be true, but--" Beacon gives a dry pause as he looks over the wounds again "... that explains somewhat what attacked me down there."

    She looks up to Nightwing, and gives a bit of a smile. "Beacon, pleasure is mine." she replies to him, and she brings her hands up. "All right, I'm sure you have all sorts of ladies who want to put their hands on you, but this is going to feel a bit weird. You're going to feel warm and tingly, like your foot's going to sleep but it's going to center on your wounds." she replies gently, and she lets out another breath, her palms glowing with a sun-shiney light, shielded by cupping her fingers, and she braces her hands to Nightwing's shoulder with one hand, and to the side of his chest with the other, her palm brushing against his wound.

    There is an immediate warm feeling, should the healing take, that centers around the wounds and sore spots in his body, that tingling ensation crawling the wrong way down veins.

Tim Drake has posed:
Having been on the receiving end of Beacon's healing before, Red Robin knows what to expect and looks away as the lightshow begins. He glances back after the initial flash of brightness, giving Dick a slight grin and a nod. They'll talk later about the details. Probably with Batman. He'll want to know.

So much for an uneventful patrol.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing is able to grin, but avoids laughing and the pain that comes with it at Beacon's remarks, "Well-played," he snorts and blinks as the healing does take, "You weren't wrong, it definitely feels... off, but not entirely bad. Just strange." He winces and takes a breath, realizes that deep breaths hurt too. It is not his day.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Breathe as comfortably as you can, I know it feels weird." beacon replies, apologetically as the warmth and tingling continues, but the cell draw back, muscle fibers knit together, healing from the inside-out as the wounds heal, deepest tissue first, then drawing outwards to the skin. "So, you work out?" she questions, keeping conversation light as she works. Bedside manner's going to be a bit off when your bedside is the side of a building and your patient is a superhero. "I think the thingling is all your nerves jangling in confusion, just like 'what's this? noo we were just activated for pain and --" then he makes a snoring sound, in imitation of the jangled, tingling nerves. "You'll want to take it easy for a little while. Definitely no pectorial jiggling to impress people for at least a day."

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin snorts. "The pecs aren't what impresses the girls, it's the legs and the--" he stops himself, but gives Dick a grin. He feels a lot more relaxed knowing Nightwing isn't going to have his guts falling out onto the streets of Gotham tonight. "...well, as soon as you're done, Beacon, we all need to get out of here. And quickly. I don't know if they are following, but even odds say they are, and Nightwing and I need to report in ASAP."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing raises a brow at the work out comment, "Just regular training," his response is serious, though Tim's comment gets an eyeroll and a chuckle. "Will do, though. Once we're clear of here I'll take it easy. Just make sure you can get somewhere safe. Things are a bit hairy tonight and I'd rather nobody else get hurt or worse." His tone is back to serious.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Yeah, but he doesn't have slices taken out of his legs that I could see, and the joke wouldn't make ense." Phoebe admonishes Tim. No, Dick's guts are going to stay where they belong. And in a few more moments, Beacon lifts her hands from Nightwing, and gives a wry smile, taking an unteady step back. "I know my way back accross town, I'll make a couple dips and head back home. I was at the end of my run." she breathes out, and then turns from Nightwing to Red Robin. "Do you want me to send a message when I get back safe?"

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin nods. "Comm me if you run into //anything// weird, Beacon. I'll risk the boss's wrath and send Superboy if I have to." He's serious. He reaches down to help Nightwing to his feet.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Be careful, Beacon," Nightwing says, letting the joke lie, and he rises to his feet, still feeling a tad odd that a few moments ago his sides looked like they had been cut for bacon. He shakes his head, and then nods to Beacon, "Thanks again. Let us know if you see anything weird." He does not admonish Red Robin for the Superboy threat, that's not a fight worth having right now, or even a discussion. "Best we get going then, Red Robin. Before whoever is after us tries again."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I know, Red. I'll stick to the rooftops and head pretty well straight back, and I'll end a com when I've gotten back safe. Let me know when you guys are safe too, all right?" she ventures, looking to the two of them.

    "We Gothamites have gotta look out for one another." she gives a smile, then pulls her hood back over her head. "Be safe out there."