this wretched holds the songs in me

[proxysearch]

Who: proxysearch and kingofrooks. Maybe gaveherwings later.
When: Saturday, May 21st, just after evening siren.
Where: Sector Four.
Summary: Re-l's sick and Batman realizes she's not on her game. Great first face-to-face meeting, huh?
Warnings: Mentions of poisoning and action tags for great justice.

Comments

[kingofrooks]

[ There's an advantage of being Bruce Wayne as well as Batman, more than the finances and something to do during the day time - it lets him know things that people generally won't tell to a vigilante who has a habit of disappearing into the middle of the night. It also gives him power, back home, to exert more long-term changes while Batman tries to save Gotham on the short-term, day by day. But that's not relevant right now.

Re-l Mayer is missing. She went off for a lunch appointment of some sort - he knows because he has seen that post-it note, and she hasn't returned. Most people at the station just assumed that she's chasing down a lead or something, but Bruce knows better - it's instinct, maybe. Or it's just a voice at the side of his head, fading in and out- well, that's instinct too, in its own way. Something that just tells him that she's in trouble, and that she needs help. Even if she's not asking for it

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[She doesn't realize the monster's presence until it's already seconds too late. She turns her head quickly and finds a booted foot striking it out of the way to protect her. There's nothing but darkness surrounding her protector, though; for a couple of seconds, her addled mind sees him as something that he's not. The cape is black, not red. But the eyes are the same, the glossy gray white she's seen so many times before on someone else.

And when Batman moves in front of her, his cape out to shield her, she immediately reacts defensively.

Re-l strikes at the hand going for her throat, eyes wide, moving back against the wall. Were she more aware, she would have sidestepped. Were she in her right mind, she wouldn't have been afraid in the first place. It takes her a moment, but she realizes it's Batman there instead of a Proxy; while she doesn't relax, her fear evaporates quickly to be replaced by anger.]

Don't touch me. [Her tone is commanding despite her condition, weak as her voice may be.] I'm fine. I'm just sick.

[A shame he

[kingofrooks]

[ It's not that he's not used to people striking out defensively when he's seeking to help- he does it all the time himself, and it's a frequent reaction he gets simply because the uniform is constructed to inspire fear and not much as faith. It's an instinct that many warriors have, and instead and grabbing her wrist he simply dodges the blows as much as possible.

She's afraid. Of what, he isn't sure- it's not him that much is certain - she calms when she realizes who he is. He narrows his eyes a little at her words- she's not fine. She- has some kind of healing ability, doesn't she? That much he knows

[proxysearch]

[How he has the time to stalk every single person on the network, she'll never know. She won't flatter herself, even now, to think that he's only looking after her and a few others. That's a stupid thought. But he knows what her plans were today and he knows the circumstances, even if he's just guessing.

She wants to be angry at him. If someone tried to kill her, then where was he? Isn't he some sort of protector?

But she doesn't say that. She's not that cruel.]

Yeah, I did. I can't tell you any more than that.

[No, really, she can't. Her conversation with Vincent at the moment is a slur of words and pain. And blood. Her body feels too cold and too warm at the same time. She can't think past the throbbing in her head and the tightness of her lungs.]

Daedalus is at Skye.

[That's the help she needs. But then she realizes that she's really in no shape to walk there with him. She frowns distantly and straightens. Her pride won't allow her to look weak in front of him.]

Come on. [(She says it like she's expecting him to follow her.

[kingofrooks]

[ He multitasks well enough, and he's long installed an automatic-voiceover function for text posts, such that he can listen to them while he's working. It looks like he's listening to music while tinkering at machines, and it serves his purposes well enough - people just think that he's a little eccentric. Nightray's encryption really isn't anything special, and it takes him less than a minute to hack it.

... Really, majority of his knowledge is dependent upon the fact that he can do five things at the same time while looking as if he's just doing one. It's amazingly helpful.

But right now he just- looks at her. He doesn't need her to be cruel to already be thinking about that. He knows he should've been here quicker, that he should've known somehow that Nightray- or whoever else- would've tried to kill her.

No use crying over spilt milk. He grits his teeth- they're near Holmes's apartment. He can bring her there. ]

I'm bringing you to someone who can get you an antidote. [ And her straightening isn't fooling him- but it tells

[proxysearch]

[Someone who can get her an antidote is not the same as 'Daedalus'. She doesn't need to be fully aware of everything to notice that. A protest starts to form on her lips from that alone, but it's what he says next that really angers her.

Re-l shoots him a narrowed glance, frustrated.]

You will do no such thing.

[Carrying her like she's some sort of invalid... Who the hell does he think he is? Batman or not, no one does that to her.]

Fine. I'll lean on you.

[Whoever he was bringing her to had better be quick about this.]

[kingofrooks]

[ Stubbornness is going to be the death of him someday, if not by killing him directly through his own hardheadedness, or through frustration from other people's. It'll be so much faster if she just lets him throw her over his shoulder and move to Skye's- yes, that's precisely where he's heading

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[She lets him move her and doesn't protest for the time being. Instead, she lets him put an arm around her and help her walk as she leans against him. She keeps her spare hand on her gun, just in case; she won't be much of a shot, but she doesn't want to leave him vulnerable because of her.

Stupid. Useless. Even feeling sick, she can taste some disgusting self-deprecation welling in her stomach. She tries to get past it.

She walks with him carefully, exhaling. Her head is swimming.]

I don't have anything left in my stomach.

[Walking is difficult. She tries just focusing on his sold weight at her side.]

It's been seven hours. The paramedics at the scene... [She almost smiles but it's tired and bitter.] They said I was just upset because of the killing...in the restaurant.

[She looks up at him.] How do we get down?

[kingofrooks]

[ His eyes glance towards the gun, but he doesn't say a thing. Bruce Wayne already shows that he despises guns, and if Batman does the same, then the connection is too easy to make. It's difficult to repress the instinct to hiss and recoil from the weapon like an injured cat, but he can do it. He has done it before.

He looks at her for a long moment. Seven hours- the paramedics are idiots. Bruce growls a little underneath his breath. Nothing left in her stomach which means that she has at least thrown up.

Damn. The symptoms are too generic for him to make a proper diagnose.

He's been moving her towards the ledge, and at the question, he smirks a little. ]

We fly. [ Pause. ] Hold onto me.

[ In the second time in a week when he carries a passenger. Bruce pulls her closer, tighter- and his other arm reaches out. A grapple shoots out for a building-

and he's stepping off the ledge and taking her with him. ]

[proxysearch]

[When he says something about flying, she almost lets it slip right there. She almost tells him not to bother, that she can do it herself. And then he'd know her secret, but he'd also think she was losing it. She doesn't have the energy to go leaping off the rooftop.

But maybe there's a testament to how she's used to it, because she doesn't hold as tight as she should when he pulls her close and pulls them off the ledge.

Re-l tucks herself against him easily, knowing how best to move through the air with a passenger. It won't be so easy on him, but she supposes it's difficult enough for him to have passengers anyway. Re-l swallows when they swing down and she tries to keep herself from being sick.

It's strangely dark out. Darker than she's used to. Her vision's clouding over a bit.]

I've been shaking for the past half an hour. I got lost trying to go home... I went to my old apartment first.

[kingofrooks]

[ ... That confirms it, that. She can fly- not even Clark has done that instinctively, know exactly which angles to move and fit against another person's body to minimize air resistence. Only a person who is used to flying can knows how to- he would know that. After all, he's always gone flying with Clark and Diana- usually involuntarily.

He just hopes that she's not going to throw up on him.

Shaking for the past half an hour... that eliminates a few more. A slow-acting poison. ]

It might be arsenic. [ He grips tighter to her as he flips in the air, loosening the gripline while shooting out another. His cape flares outwards, majestic and dark, melding into the shadows. He spots a car just ahead- that'll be fast. Especially now that there's practically no traffic.

He's swopping down, now. ]

Where was your old apartment? How far did you walk?

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[She has nothing left to spit up, thankfully. She'd be mortified if she was sick in front of him, especially now. She's already vulnerable enough in front of someone she supposedly reminds people of.

She's weaker. She hates it.

She swallows in an attempt to wet her tongue; her mouth is dry. It's uncomfortable and she isn't sure how to alleviate it.

Re-l looks down hazily, realizing they're headed for the ground.]

A good fifteen miles from here. A little less.

[She frowns again, trying to remember. Her grip tightens for a moment.]

I got turned around after I left the station. Thought I was going to the right apartment.

[kingofrooks]

[ He lands on the balls of his feet, stepping quickly forward as the momentum of the landing throws him down the path. It's a good thing that Re-l tightened her grip, because he's making use of his height to lift her, so she doesn't feel the impact.

Slowly, they move towards the car. Bruce literally just deposits her near a door, then leans down to start picking the lock. This is child's play to him.

Fifteen miles. That's a long way to walk- and it probably affected her even further. Might have sped up the poison's effects- if it's arsenic, she's going to start convulsing soon.

He works faster. ]

So you started feeling disorientated by then. [ He yanks the car's door open. Driver's side. He unlocks the passenger door, then takes her arm again. ] How long ago was that?

[ Please don't object about him hotwiring a car because he has no patience for that right now. ]

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[She doesn't feel it. If she does, if some part of her feels it instinctively, she shows no sign of it. In truth, she barely even registers that they're not in the air any longer. She just keeps holding until he sets her down, and then she lets go.

Her hand immediately goes out to support herself on the car and she looks into the glass to study herself. She's paler than usual. Her eyes are unfocused.

For a moment, she thinks her eyes are gold. She thinks she sees Monad's reflection there, staring sadly back at her. She closes her eyes to get the image out of her head. She focuses on him instead, especially when he takes her arm.]

Two hours ago, I think. Driving wasn't a smart idea.

[Why are you hotwiring a car. She slides into the car without a word, lying back. She doesn't care enough to push the issue.]

[kingofrooks]

[ Oh good, she's not complaining about how he's basically stealing a car to get her to the hospial. Bruce sits on the driver's seat and starts to calmly rip out the covering- let's see... pull these wires open, spark them together...It's a Canadian-type car. He's seen enough of them before

And the engine's starting to roar. Bruce smirks to himself as he steps on the accelerator, hands on the wheel- and he's off. Too fast, way past the usual speed limit, but he doesn't care.

He turns to her, eyes half on the road- oh look, Darkness monster, he swerves, one wheel curving up to the pavement before he goes back to the main road- before he starts speaking. ]

Close your eyes. [ He's a little amused, even though it's obvious that the poison's wracking through her systems. How much of a dose was there? ]

Keep talking. What were you meeting Nightray for?

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[What can she even say? "Stop, don't do that, we should walk"? She doesn't have the energy to walk to Skye and she doesn't have the patience to let him carry her. He doesn't need the extra weight.

Re-l watches the monster come into view, amazingly calm for someone who's in a swerving vehicle. She rolls her eyes, actually, and then closes them when he tells her to.]

I won't be sick because you're swerving.

[Actually, she might. But she doesn't want to worry him. She settles her arms over her stomach and leans back, keeping her eyes closed.]

Investigating the beheadings. There's someone called the Head Hunter here. Gilbert told me.

[She can focus on what she wants to say now instead of what she needs to see or how she needs to move. At first, she starts to think she'll be all right. But then she starts to feel sick and anxious again. She sighs, trying to keep herself together.]