7353/After The Patrol

After The Patrol
Date of Scene:	13 August 2021
Location:	Batcave
Synopsis:	Members of the Bat Family cross paths in the Batcave as Bruce returns with injuries from fighting a reptile in the sewers.
Cast of Characters:	Stephanie Brown, Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Bette Kane, Bruce Wayne

---

Stephanie Brown has posed:
The quiet whir of an electric Batcycle is difficult to hear at the best of times. Batgirl's bike passes beneath the waterfall and into the Batcave, pulling into one of the vehicle bays.

She climbs off it with extra care. Because she's caked in... something. Mud? Tar? Some kind of ink-bomb from Penguin, Riddler or another Gotham villain? It's tough to tell what it is exactly. Though Stephanie pulls off her cowl and winces at her inability to keep her hair out of it. "Ew. Capital E, capital W, EW," she grumbles to herself as she pulls her gloves off and walks towards the locker area where people change in and out of costumes. Stephanie lifts her voice, "Sorry about the footprints, Alfred!" she calls out, though he isn't even in there as far as she knows.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's not exactly rare for Tim to make an appearance at the Manor, given his public persona as a Wayne, now. But it's a different story altogether for the Batcave. Often he's busy with his own investigations and his own team (the existence of which is still mostly on the down-low), just a voice on their shared comms during the night, out on patrol in his section of the city.

    Tonight, though, his bike is parked in the vehicle bay near where Stephanie pulls in, and Tim himself is at the central computer, running a search through archived case files by the looks of it. He's in costume but without his cape and his domino mask, eyes intent on the screen as he types. It isn't until Steph calls out for Alfred that he so much as blinks, and then he does it several times in a row because ahhhh it burnsssss.

    "I think he's upstairs," Tim answers, and then sweeps a hand up through his hair. It's long enough that it's started to fall into his eyes now, and he makes a face that suggests he's acknowledging he needs a haircut while also deciding that it's far too much trouble.

Dick Grayson has posed:
    Nightwing is up on the main platform, in front of the main displays and controls of the Bat computer beside Tim. Once Batgirl has parked and climbed off her bike, he swivels his chair around to watch her for a moment with a bit of a grin on his face.

    "So, what possessed you to fight Maggia goons on top of an oil tank? Though I may have to keep the footage of you dodging a little too far to the left and falling in. We could start a yearly Bat blooper reel or something." Given her reaction, he's not too worried that she's hurt, more lightly amused by the mess she's made of herself.

    He adds, "Yeah, you'll have to apologize to Alfred later, he's up top right now. Go shower and you can tell me the parts I missed on the cameras."

Bette Kane has posed:
     Not too long after Batgirl, another empressive motorcyle in the 'Bat-Gang' comes costing in quietly. Batwoman's fancy Ducati 1098 actually accellerate inside the cave before coming to a very careful stop with a lot of open space around it to avoid scratching it. On the back though, is the red highlighted costumed hero, only, it is bold orange and flame colors rather than dark bat. Bette slides off the bike. She glances around a bit, "Hey, Batgirl.. You drive through a road work?"

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Batgirl takes a step, and her fit skids a bit, though she keeps her balance and doesn't fall to add insult to... well, insult. She sees Tim and Dick and gives a tiny finger wiggle their direction. "Hey, you want a night of 'Pow', 'Blam', 'Kapow', you gotta go where it can be found," she replies to Dick.

Stephanie gives a toss of blond hair as if to accentuate the point. But that just further gets her hair in the oil on the back of her costume. "Ugh," she says. "Though I'm impressed all Barb's electronics still work. Far as I could tell," she says. "Let me go get cleaned up."

She continues towards the locker room, only pausing as Bette pulls in on her own bike. "Oh, you know, oil's well that ends well," Stephanie quips, giving another wave before disappearing into where the showers can be found.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Whatever it is Tim's looking for, he's not finding it. As the minutes have gone on, his search terms have shifted from fairly standard (mostly centering around financial crimes and smuggling) to the esoteric. Something about technocults and transhumanism.

    No luck, though.

    His hands are still in his hair, pulling it back and away from his face, and that's when he finally tears his eyes away from the screen to look over at Steph. The way his expression shifts is a blink-and-you'll-miss-it kind of thing, but he's definitely still biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Even if his eyebrows have drawn together a little in concern.

    "Well, guess if we're cleaning up the streets, we have to expect to get a little bit dirty." And he waits until Steph's passed by to tilt his head towards Dick and add, "Or a lotta bit," with a quick rush of air through his nose. No, Tim didn't just snort.

    Okay he totally did. He rests his elbow against the desk as he gives a quick wave in Bette's direction before returning to what is clearly a useless search for some kind of needle in a haystack.

Bette Kane has posed:
     Of course it is Flamebird's Bat-Cycle, and Bette totally did not 'barrow' it while Kate was out of town. She steps around with a felt cloth, brushing any bog or other thing that she can fine. She pulls her goggles up, grinning at Stephanie's pun as she adopts a more confident posture. Then her more bouncey one, "Hi Robin, Dick.."

Bette Kane has posed:
     She just starts paying as much attention to her hair as she had been to the bike. "Hi, I was wondering, you both had, umm other bikes.. You know, not the fancy Red Robin and Nightwing ones, what did you do with the old ones?"

Bruce Wayne has posed:
The roar of a Wayne Motors hybrid engine that had the misfortune to disappear into development hell once the prototype was complete echoes forth from the main vehicle entrance to the Cave. A swarm of bats precedes it, screeching wildly and fluttering about the cavern before retreating into the darkness high above. The Batmobile itself, while humming along, appears to have taken some kind of beating. The armored plating about the front is crumpled and even torn away in some places. The right rear fin looks like something with a great big mouth and sharp teeth has chewed on it, scratching away the black finish to reveal the shining metal beneath.

The Car screeches to a halt perilously close to the Ducati, threatening to crash into it but instead kicking up a haze of exhaust and shimmering heat. The roof of the vehicle peels away and the Bat himself emerges from within. The entire right arm of his uniform is torn away, leaving a bloodied arm with two four-inch-long fangs sticking painfully upward out of wounds in the flesh. His jaw is bruised, and his cape is little more than tatters at his back. He mounts the stairway leading towards the Batcomputer, plucking the first of the fangs free from his arm with a grimace of pain but nothing else.

"Oil," he growls at Batgirl, voice low and gruff, "Sloppy."

He lifts a booted foot to kick the corner of the large, semicircular desk. A drawer rolls open as if of its own accord and he reaches inside, producing a brown glass bottle. He flicks out the stopper with his thumb and pours the clear contents onto the wounds, teeth bared.

Dick Grayson has posed:
    Shaking his head at the bad pun, Nightwing just motions towards the showers, not wanting to give Batgirl any more ammo. As another bike pulls in, he looks over at Tim and asks quietly, "You ever get the feeling we're some kind of weirdly dressed motorcycle gang?"

    He gives a casual wave in Bette's direction, inviting her to join them on the main platform if she likes. "Well, regular bike I donated to a charity. Older models of the special ones get parted out and the rest gets crushed at once of Bruce's junkyards."

    And speak of the Bat, there he is. At the sight of Bruce's condition, Dick whistles and stands up, grabbing a first aid kit. "Want a little help cleaning that up and bandaging? I know from experience it's kinda difficult with only one arm. And while we're at it, what the heck did you end up playing with tonight?"

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Stephanie Brown catches Bruce's condition as she's disappearing into the locker area, wincing at his arm. She disappears then into the lockers, getting out of the oil-soaked costume and putting it aside where it won't mess up anything else, ready for cleaning or disposal depending on how bad it is.

Soon the sound of the showers can be heard. Not long after, the young woman's voice singing can be heard but just faintly. Only slightly off key now and then, it's a Dazzler pop song.

Bette Kane has posed:
     Bette was just trying to decide which of the two she might have best odds with. Then the Batmobile it self rolls in, how come bats did fly around when she came in? Must be a built-in feature. But it is torn up and, Bette nearly stumbles as she spins from approaching Drake and Grayson to bolting for the Ducati, ready to throw herself between the battered Batmobile and Batwoman's baby. Likely the better way to go. But all's well that washes out and hides under the three coats of wax she is going to apply.

     Turning back to Dick, coolness struggling to recover, Bette nods, "Of course. Wouldn't want some one to get hold of them, would we." Though, Batman is wounded, and she was out joy riding. A breath, and she goes soldier mode, straight and stiff. "How did it go, Bruce? Did you need clean up." Cause right, Batman would have left before it was done.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim stares up at Dick for a long moment and then lets out a long-suffering sigh as he turns and steeples his hands together in front of his mouth. "Well, you could say we drive," he pauses for a deep, pained inhale, "Like a bat out of hell." He gives a quick shake of his head and considers the cup of coffee at his elbow. Under his breath, he mutters, "Maybe I should actually try to get some sleep tonight."

    He gestures towards Nightwing in general agreement regarding the bike question. "Kind of a ship of Theseus thing. My new bike's mostly made up of parts of my old one except for the armor plating and the tires." While he talks, he turns back to the keyboard, and it looks like he's about to settle back in for more fruitless searching before the entrance of the Batmobile causes him to still once again. He watches silently as Bruce approaches, eyes going a little wide, but he says nothing. Just glances briefly at Dick when the offer of first aid is given.

    "I have some spare parts back home that I could send your way if you're looking to put something of your own together," he tells Bette as his fingers fly over the keyboard, rapidly closing down the windows he had open. Then Tim stands, moving around Bruce and Dick so he's not in the way. Still, even from a distance he looks like he's trying to analyze the wound.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"Scratches," comes Bruce's reply, not taking his eyes from the wound, "Week and a half to heal at most. Acetaminophen for pain. Nothing major."

Another tooth is plucked from gash in his arm and held up to the light, observed before he drops it into a small metal bowl he has laid out on the desk. It comes to a rest with a satisfying plink, followed shortly by the last one. At that point he lifts a small steel applicator from the arranged tools and sets about gluing the wounds shut. It's something he's done a thousand times, and even with one hand he has little trouble.

"Croc," he says in answer to Dick's other question, "Or something like him. Disappeared back into the sewer."

His eyes lift to Bette after a moment, and he shakes his head: "Nothing to clean. Stay out of the sewers. Tell Kate the same. If it is Croc, he's riled and different. If it's not, we need more intel before we engage."

"Computer," he continues, straightening up and turning to the big screen, "Cowl-cam footage. Tonight. Two-hundred fifty-six to three-hundred twelve."

In response, the large screen displays a first person view of a mammoth, scaly and fanged monster with Batman's arm in its mouth as his other hand drives over and over into what can only be described as its 'snout'.

"Distribute on all secured channels. Class grey."

"Saw the oil stunt," he calls towards Steph, repeating, "Sloppy." He turns back to the work on his arm, the second part of the sentence a lot quieter and said with an exhalation that only Dick might hear: "But improving."

Dick Grayson has posed:
    Once Bruce sums up his wounds as fairly minor, Dick puts the first aid kit down on the desk and pulls a bottle of the mentioned Acetaminophen out of it and puts it on the desk where Bruce can reach it, then grabs a bottle of water from a nearby fridge then he puts beside the medication.

    "I'll run some drones through the sewers, see if we can gather some intel without risking any of us in there. Hopefully it is actually Croc, we can do without another big, toothy critter haunting the area. Cam footage didn't look exactly like him, unfortunately."

    Dropping his voice so only Bruce can hear, he adds, "She is doing a lot better."

Bette Kane has posed:
Bette Kane says, "Thank you, Tim." Bette doesn't bother to say she would not know what to do with them. In truth, she can easily afford a dozen nice street motorcycles. Not the combat and super high military stuff Batman and the various Robins and Batgirls use. Truly ironic as she was in the one in the military. But, Kate might actually help with that, fixing up one she bought given the gear.

     "Of course. I will stay out of the sewers., and make sure Kate gets the word. But, you think it wasn't Killer Croc? Sanitation really needs to hire some Australians." She really needs quality input here. "I heard of a monster regenerating lizard man in New York, that might be bigger than Waylon Jones. Well, if you could trust 'The Daily Bugle." Her hands slipping behind her back together. West Point, it had sometimes made it easier to be confident when clinging to those things."

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Not too much later, Stephanie emerges from the lock area. She's wearing blue jeans and carrying shoes and socks, and wearing a faded green t-shirt bearing the logo of a popular Bristol bbq place, only about a half dozen miles from the mansion, and nearer than that to her mother's townhouse. Her hair is still damp, left to fall free about her shoulders as she dries it with a towel in one hand.

"Well, at least it's not Ratcatcher," she comments, "Though I suppose wearing the gas masks isn't a horrible thing while in the sewer." She stops and gets herself a bottle of juice and then moves over to join the others, taking a seat to pull her socks and shoes on. "Someone sight it and you went looking for it, or what?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Out of the way still means near enough to the computer that Tim doesn't have to wait for the footage to be sent out. No doubt his system in the Roost picks it up, but he's already here, and he stands with his arms crossed over his chest as he stares at the video. "Hard to get a conclusive ID," he agrees quietly. "If it's him, his condition may have worsened, or maybe he's been exposed to some sort of mutagenic compound." That sounds like a better option than Croc 2.0 out and about in Gotham.

    He waves loosely towards Bette, saying 'Don't worry about it' without looking over or actually opening his mouth. He's still focused on the screen, at least until Stephanie returns from the lockers, and he bumps his hip against the desk as he leans nearby. "I wonder if they have some sort of established hierarchy down there. The territory split up by sewer lines." He rolls his neck loosely, eyes closed. "Might be good to monitor the treatment plants, too," he suggests.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"Built a training room under that brownstone?"

Bruce turns slightly, raising an eyebrow at Dick before he returns his focus to the matter at hand.

"Doesn't look like Croc, no," Bruce answers, now watching the cowl-cam footage in silence, "Method isn't the same, either. Croc is more surgical, methodical ... predatory. This was just thoughtless aggression. Easier to intimidate, harder to capture."

Bette's musings prompt his brow to furrow thoughtfully as he draws the cowl back and down to reveal his tousled, sweaty hair and tired eyes: "Can't rule it out. Might be moving out from under the Avengers' shadow. Got any ties in the area?"

"Reports from the local homeless population talked about something pushing them out of the tent cities down there. This thing was turning one of the main lines into a nest of some kind."

"Make it happen," he tells Tim, taking the volunteered suggestion as commitment to playing a part in the investigation.

Dick Grayson has posed:
    Dick chuckles and shakes his head, "Not really set up for it, but I've turned about half of the third floor into a gym and training area. Just have to keep the Bat themed toys hidden away. But that's not a huge problem, I've managed to get some hidden space for equipment in case I have to go from there in an emergency."

    Turning to look at the footage, he nods, "Yeah, just our luck, looks like a new one. As if we don't have enough trouble here as it is." He shrugs, "Oh well, that's why we've got so many in the family these days. Bad guys keep popping up, we keep knocking them down." He takes another bottle of water from the fridge and opens it, taking a drink.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Stephanie Brown gets her socks and shoes on and then focuses on sipping her juice. "Yes, one Croc is bad enough," she says with a small frown and a shake of her head.

After a moment's thought she moves over to a console that isn't in use and pulls up some maps. "There's a shelter over on Monroe Blvd. Might be able to help direct some of the affected homeless over towards it," she says. "As a temporary measure. There's a group on campus that is always handing out fliers, I can probably plant the idea in their heads and get it taken care of," she offers.

Bette Kane has posed:
     Bette was confident, and in some levels, she had done a lot of what she had to do to get where she was. Yes, born rich, and that only covered Bruce in the room. But no one had taught her, and she had, tried. Then a chance meeting with Batwoman, that very luckily saved her life and happened to be her cousin. There had been training, and she had contributed. But her needing to be saved to helping ratio had all the Robins beat. Stephanie, Tim, and Dick didn't start out with any of the birth advantages.

     As she looked at the images, she figured it was silly to be afraid. Accept Bruce's decree. Yes. She would and could do that. But were the others afraid, and accepting? Or were they just accepting the mandate? There was nothing she could do to the thing she saw there, short of setting a claymore mine in its path. One thing she had though, fairly well was an objective and disciplined stare, a worthy poker-face, if it wasn't so out of place with her cheerful demeanor. "Good idea." She said as Stephanie and the others offered thoughts. "If it is that primal.. Maybe lure it with food? How far was it from the packing plants? Do you, have a way to move the sewer workers away?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    What was that about getting some sleep tonight? Tim swipes his mug from where it's been sitting and downs the rest of its contents in one quick swallow, his nose only wrinkling slightly. Ugh, lukewarm coffee. But caffeine is caffeine, and Tim nods once sharply to Bruce. "On it."

    And then that's precisely what he's doing, domino mask pressed into place and cape fetched from where he's laid it out to pull it on around his neck. The way his hand hovers over the touch screen in his left gauntlet and the tilt of his head, looking somewhere off to the side, suggests his attention is on something in his HUD. After a bit, he lets out a slow, even breath. "Okay, I'll prioritize the treatment plant nearest to the sighting and work my way out from there," he says, and then he's on the move, though he doesn't quite make it to the vehicle bay. Something stops him, and he turns to look back, but after a moment his mouth twists with some sort of vague disquiet and he swings his leg over his bike. "I'll keep you all in the loop!"

    The roar of his motorcycle precedes Red Robin's exit through the waterfall and back out towards Gotham.

Dick Grayson has posed:
    Dick watches Tim head out, then moves over to the controls and starts typing. "Activating the motion controlled cameras we have on all the sewer entrances in the area, we can see where he comes out to start to get a picture of his roaming area. Then we'll know where to send in drones and maybe not have to cover the entire sewers."

    "In the meantime, I see the batmobile needs some bodywork. I'll grab some tools and get started. Need to find a mechanic we can bring into the family so all these repairs are easier." That said, he grabs his water bottle and heads over to give the Batmobile a closer look.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
"WayneCom has the contract on that district," Bruce answers, gesturing to a map rendered on the big screen, "I'll label the tunnels for repair and put the crews on paid leave. Clear it out."

"Might be right, Bette. Get your gear together."

After a moment he rises up from the console, and there's a faint twinge in his mouth. He may not be all that old by modern standards, but most modern humans don't put them through the kind of punishment he does.

"Need a shower."

That said he turns and moves towards the showers himself, the tattered suit coming away and being discarded on the floor as he goes.

Bette Kane has posed:
     Bette watches as they break, knowing what they should be doing, and she starts back over to Kate's bike, "I'll be listening if I can do anything to help.. Oh, umm, if anybody wants tickets for the U.S. Open.. I still have some I can pick up." She cranks the bike, "Right, gear." Birdarangs, check. Glider cape, check, flash goggles and suit. Check and check. Multitool. All there. "Take care of those wounds."