Urgh...my head.
[The St. Patrick's Day celebration was a nice reminder of why he never drank. His head felt several sizes too small for his brain, eyes were watering freely for no reason save they were open, and his stomach was caught between wanting food tribute...and bringing bit of its contents up his neck partway.]
I...am never...gonna drink...again...[Terry searched through the different hangover cures cataloged away in the trivial knowledge portion of his mind. Unfortunately, with the different departures, new arrivals, and celebrations, his particular pantry had run low. Despite the arguments from his various organs and senses, Terry dragged himself out of bed and got dressed in whatever seemed to be cleanest. He'll be out on the town, going through shops to try and find the ingredients for a hangover cure...as well as some painkillers.
By the time night fell, McGinnis was back in true form. If he was going to do this job, he always made damn sure to do it right. Adjusting the gloves and packing away the last few errant items of his utility belt, he pulled on the cowl. Even with the lack of frequent crime, the patrols were harder without the old man, even if it was just him over the comms. Worlds needed a Batman, McGinnis wasn't about to let Luceti go without one.]
((OOC: Catch Terry during the day or Batman during the night. Replies from Batman will be coming from
redwingcrusader))