Post Test

June 28, 2014: After the tests of the Clocktower's defenses

Gotham Clocktower
The clocktower. The Bat one, you know?



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Mood Music:

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The elevator is apparently out of order, the doors closed firmly, leaving any visitors to the Clocktower to take the steps under their own steam. The silent alert earlier must have caught Nightwing at a moment where leaving would be a major problem, and so he should expect trouble here with the Joker on the loose. Babs is in her chair, sitting in front of her monitors, one of them black with a hole in it, dead from gunshot, and the doors to the elevator are an exploded twisted mess of metal, the various damages from battle showing in the entire room, not least the woman herself, who sports a bruise along her jaw. Despite that, she is working, a contact offered cautiously to Aspect, through the maze of proxies she uses so skillfully.

Nightwing did receive the alarm but was otherwise occupied dealing with some armed drug dealers in another part of town. However, as soon as he was free, he made his way to the Clocktower, swinging in via one of the window entrances. Elevator? Who uses those?

Pausing to note the damage, he carefully slips in and makes his way to Oracle seated at the desk. "Are you all right?" That's the most important thing. He peers about, scrutinizing the area to see if there might be any hidden dangers leftover. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner…what happened?"

Clocktowers do not… last time he checked, usually have high priority alarms going not-to-the-police. It's enough to make the usually task oriented Jericho curious enough to actually check it out. But not from the ground floor because as has been previously and exhaustively established, the ground floor of anything in Gotham is dangerous. People are down there. With guns. And fear gas. And weird power armor. So it may be a slight surprise when a figure with glowing amber wings, a figure who is otherwise an ordinary looking man in jeans, lands near one of the windows and pulls out a small prybar to pop it, and then a handgun.

Babs turns, the first sound alerting her already strained senses, and she smiles, the bruise rather distorting it. "Batman decided to test our defenses, they worked rather well. I'm just making some changes in the subroutines…" Then the window is being pried opened and she reaches down for her sticks, her eyes narrowing behind the glasses, a glance at Nightwing silently speaking, warning him to ware his words. "Move slowly, whoever you are, or find yourself damaged." The call is clear, loud enough to reach the intruder's ears.

"This was a test?" is started, but Nightwing hears the sound of someone's landing and the prying of the window as well. A glance is given to Oracle before he slips into the shadows of the rooms, his escrima sticks held at the ready even as he prepares to sneak up on the intruder. Very few have the audacity to try and breach the Clocktower.

If either can see him, by camera or eye, he's holding his weapon in a manner that betrays very quickly that a)He's quite comfortable with it's use and b)He's very, very well trained. Military, possibly special forces. The glowing wings are very much in evidence still, folding to cover him the moment Babs mentions damage. "I heard the alarm go out. No one's supposed to be in here, last I checked." Granted that also includes him but hey, he figures whomever broke in won't try arguing that.

Babs nods to Nightwing, confirming the test, and she slides the sticks out of sight, letting some of the screens power down before she replies, "Come in, slowly. We're a little jumpy. The alarm is meant to alert my friends if I fall from the chair and can't help myself." The smile is rueful, Babs playing up the helpless cripple aspect of her life with practiced ease. "Unfortunately, some druggies tried to break in, and it was all I had to hand." She wheels herself forward, her hands resting on her wheels.

Guns really don't frighten the Batfolk — they've long since practiced working their way around their usage and yet learning how to fight those who wield them. Nightwing remains hidden in the dark corners, silently slipping towards the best angle in case he needs to either attack or get between the intruder and Oracle.

The gun slowly goes back into a shoulder holster. From Nightwing's position the intruder clearly has some kind of circuit traces running over his arms, chest and neck, also possibly his legs but the jeans block light and his shirt does not.

"You live up here." He looks about, right in Nightwing's direction though it's fairly clear not right at the ex-Bat. His eyes are also glowing amber. "Switch off." He says, and the wings and glows fade. Silently he begins to run a network ping. He won't detect Oracle's hidden systems, but she may recognize the net signature.

"I live up here." Her reply is confirmation and her eyes widen slightly behind the glasses, before her chair moves forward and she offers her hand, "Babs Gordon." The name that she offers is the one that is known, that might offer a necessary cloak over her real reason for the tower. "I find I am less likely to get unexpected visitors up here, especially if people assume it is empty. Obviously, not tonight though."

There seem to be more vigilantes in Gotham. Wonder what Batman thinks of that? He'll have to ask him one day. Meanwhile, Nightwing just remains vigilant, watching and noting all that he can about the intruder.

"Jericho Trent." The man offers his hand to Babs, his profile now turned to Nightwing. He's tall, with olive skin and vaguely middle eastern features. There's a very, very faint trace of an egyptian accent to his words, but not enough to mark him as a non-native speaker. The tan army boots on his feet are well enough worn to make one think that perhaps he's had them for a while. "Sorry for the scare." He looks about, clearly curious but not enough to press… "If everything's okay here, I suppose I should leave you to your privacy though."

Babs takes the hand, the tilt of her head thoughtful, and she smiles, her green eyes warming. "No real harm done, and it was sweet of you to check on it." She glances behind him, adding softly, "You weren't the only superhero that dropped by to find out about the alarm." Giving Nightwing an excuse for being here, a chance to step out of the shadows. "I don't get this many visitors in a year usually. I'll have to get the elevator fixed with better security to avoid attracting the druggies again."

Superhero? He'll have to tease her about that later, but at that cue, Nightwing steps into just enough light to reveal himself, although not entirely. It's a trick he learned from the Batman himself — mystery often ups the level of intimidation. "Just a word of warning, friend…" the word is sayd just a little menacingly, "…we don't like our heroes carrying firearms here."

If either Babs or Nightwing have known soldiers before there's an unmistakeable tensing in Jericho's arm and shoulders when he hears Nightwing's voice. It's one of those veteran things, a trait gained from living so long in a place where having your first response to a surprise being obliterating it with overwhelming force is a survival skill. It's only there for a moment and then he takes a deep breath to calm himself and gives Nightwing a wry smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Sort of necessary kit for me. Sorry."

Jeri looks the newcomer over with some interest. He's not met any legitimate costumed heroes before… except Diana and she doesn't often do the costume bit. "Huh. That's… really kind of intimidating…"

Babs is watching Jericho closely, her green eyes narrowing slightly, before she nods, rolling the chair back slightly, leaving the men to settle themselves alone, her fingers resting lightly on the wheels of her chair, letting the role remain, the disabled showing over the competent Oracle. "I'll let you two introduce yourselves, I think… It isn't often I get two men breaking into protect me." If nothing else, mostly she doesn't need it.

"It's not really an option. The bad guys carry guns. The good guys don't…unless you can show me a law enforcement badge…" Nightwing states matter-of-factly. As he's looked over, he gives a lopsided grin himself, "That's sort of the point. This -is- Gotham, after all." The whole 'Star-Spangled' thing just isn't the right fit in this atmosphere.

"Nope, sorry. I don't have one. But folks are trying to kill me, so if you try to take it, I'm afraid I'll object." That's said with a wince. He didn't come in here to pick a fight and this guy is clearly this Bab's friend. He'd just as soon disengage and be on his way. He has enough legitimate enemies without adding to them over something like this. "Yes well fair point." He smiles wryly about the costume. "You wouldn't happen to be, y'know, him would you?" Eyes cut back to Babs. Why on earth would a disabled woman live in a freaking tower? Alone? Jericho has never gotten this place. Reason he hates Gotham number 10.

Babs shakes her head, "Enough, boys. He isn't Him." She rolls the chair forward, giving Jericho a smile before speaking quietly, "Thank you for checking on the alarm, I'm sorry it disturbed your night." It is a clear dismissal and her gaze cutting to the window he entered through is a further unsubtle hint, his silent questions unanswered, ignored. "I think I have some cleaning up to do." With that, she turns, wheeling slowly around the apartment, gathering broken bits of glass and other materials into her lap, tidying up.

"I'm not going to take your gun from you," Nightwing corrects, "But I'm just warning that you might not be seen as a good guy toting that and using it. There are people after -me- as well…and I'm not carrying a gun." He even spreads his arms some as if to show that he seems to be relatively unarmed, at least when it comes to firearms.

As Oracle gives the dismissal, he looks to the other to see how he'll react. "Your attention to the alarm is appreciated, but not necessary. I suggest that if you choose to visit Ms. Gordon again, you use the doorbell and the door."

Jericho nods and heads toward the window. "Lucky you." He says to Nightwing, but it's said with a smile. "I'm not a good guy, sir. Not by a long shot. Kind of a jerk really, if you want to know the truth, but thank you for your understanding." He pauses at the window.

"Eagle out." His traces light back up and amber wings sprout from his shoulder blades. "You both have a good night." He says with a smile and a wave, then he drops out of the window and wings away.

Babs watches him go, her face thoughtful, before a gesture powers up the computers once more, and a hand is offered to Nightwing, "Going to stay and help me clean up this mess? Batgirl and he scooted out of here into the night…" The rueful smile is welcoming too, and her place really does need some repair rather urgently.

Nightwing watches to make sure that the guy does indeed leave before he turns back to Babs, "Why? I mean, just why do people come here, pretend to do the good thing and then say 'Oh, I'm really bad'. Because now I'm going to have to pretty much stop him from…whatever it is he's doing traipsing about with wings and a gun." There's a sigh given as if he really didn't need this added to his list, but he turns back to the other. Stepping forward, he takes the offered hand, "Yeah, I'll help clean up. Seriously, this was Batman and Batgirl? They trashed your place…for a test?" He lifts a hand to her bruised face, "Which one did this?"

Babs shakes her head, a brief gesture, "I know him, he is dark grey at worst from my current assessment. Villains don't often check on alarms like that." She offers him her face, a kiss demanded with laughter in her eyes, "He did. She was rescuing me, at least got here in time to hit him once. You should see the other guy." Oracle's systems can pack a punch and with the Joker on the loose, there are no holds barred. "That would be him. A good punch. I need to add some way to flip the chair if it is rolled." Her mind goes straight to potential gaps in her defenses, and already the orders are in, new programs and subroutines begun.

Babs shakes her head, a brief gesture, "I know him, he is dark grey at worst from my current assessment. Villains don't often check on alarms like that." She offers him her face to look at with laughter in her eyes, "He did. She was rescuing me, at least got here in time to hit him once. You should see the other guy." Oracle's systems can pack a punch and with the Joker on the loose, there are no holds barred. "That would be him. A good punch. I need to add some way to flip the chair if it is rolled." Her mind goes straight to potential gaps in her defenses, and already the orders are in, new programs and subroutines begun.

"Dark grey? Dark grey with a gun and somehow monitoring transmissions from this building is enough for me to want an eye kept on him, and possibly to stop him entirely." Nightwing actually frowns before he pulls up his mask to get a better look at the bruise on her face. A gloved hand reaches to lift her face briefly before it's let go with a gentle caress. "You should get some ice on that." He goes to get the broom to help with sweeping up the glass but pauses, broom in hand, "Wait, -Batman- punched you? What the hell kind of test was this?"

"He is more than he seems. I'll know more soon." And she will, she always does, the little locator reporter likely to whisper back when he next goes into a wifi building. The touch gets him a smile, that faint tension in her body, between them, running undercurrents in the conversation. "I will but I want to get the building secure first. He was testing us." The acceptance of that is obvious and she glances at the destruction, "You should have seen what we did to him. If it wasn't Him, he would be under that elevator car." She moves to pick up more broken glass, tossing it into a crate, her smile taking a touch of pride at the level of destruction she can rain down on unwanted visitors.

"We? You and Batgirl?" Well, at least they seemed to team up against him. Serves him right. Nightwing begins sweeping up the smaller shards of glass and collects them into a dustpan to toss, "It's a ridiculous amount of damage for a test. He'll probably send you replacements for all the stuf he destroyed at least."

"The order for the new elevator and doors are in. I made some modifications to take in the weaknesses in our defenses that he found. Batgirl was here as fast as she could be and I was glad that I put in the routine to avoid hurting her, otherwise…" The smile is bright, as she turns to remove the dud monitor, bending to replace it with another, a spare kept for redundancy purposes. "I think some type of net on the elevator shaft might be helpful. Something not easily overloaded."

"Steel cable?" Nightwing suggests even as he continues to help with the cleanup, "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. Although, I probably would have gone after him for striking you. For striking anyone." Batman's a hard taskmaster but he doesn't remember having to learn lessons this particular way. Once most of the glass is up, he goes into her freezer to get an ice pack. "Let me finish cleaning up. It's the least I can do since I didn't get here in time to kick his ass for you."

"Something to immobilise I think…" She is considering it, and then she gives him a smile, taking the ice pack. "We'll do it, and then we can relax, at least." Independence, hard won, and hard kept, and not an inch is given. "Here, ditch this down the elevator shaft? It can't get much messier down there." Amusement glints in her green eyes and she presses some buttons, activating some level of security.

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