The Waiting Game

October 7, 2014: The night after the Circle of Oroboros' appearance, some of the Titans (and guests) look for answers.

Gotham Arms Rooftop

Rooftop of the Gotham Arms apartment



  • None

Mood Music:

The moon hangs full over Gotham, casting an eerie amber glow through the clouds. It is seldom that the night is clear enough to see the moon and the stars uninterrupted by a tendril or cloud or mist. Tonight, though, it is one of those exceptions, as there is very little in the way to obstruct the view.

Somehow, the canopy of the stars is not very comforting to Keith, sitting on the edge of the rooftop and looking down at the city from his perch above the sixth floor. He hasn't slept very well since last night, even with Garfield's company. Or precisely because of Garfield's company, and the injury he had received while trying to protect Keith.

The stars above him give him the impression of countless eyes watching him from the darkness, as if at any moment the Knights could return and claim him.

« Hey, in Gotham for a thing. You guys doing anything interesting? » It's a text from Kate, and it's shortly followed by the revving of one purple mustang engine down the street from the building.

Edges of rooftops are the Man Wonder's specialty. He runs along the ledge of a different rooftop and uses his grapple gun to swing from one building to another, eventually finding himself approach Keith. With a lopsided grin, he treads towards the other fellow. Dressed as Robin rather than Tim, Robin sits down beside Keith and looks at the world below.

"It's almost peaceful sometimes," he muses without having actually said hi. But such is life with the bats. Forget about greetings, deal with presence, thoughts, and brooding instead. Not that Tim is much of a brooder. Angsting, yes. Brooding? Not really.

«Up on the rooftop. Come on up.» Keith texts Kate, and sets his phone aside as he dangles his feet in the air for a few seconds. When the wonderbird sits down next to Keith, he gives him a look and an almost-smile. "Don't let it fool you. It'll spit you out."

The redhead sighs softly and rubs his forehead. "You missed… one heck of a night last night, bird. I'm apparently being hunted."

A bat! In Gotham! A bit outsized though - Gar flies in from the train station, starting out as a (green) brown bat, but then shifting about a third of the way there to a (green) flying fox, since they can go further on less energy. He lands and becomes a green human, recognizable to those present as Gar Logan, although he's looking rather exhausted. He lands next to Keith and nearly collapses into him.

"Ugh. Still low-energy … need to find the anti-curse …"

It doesn't take long for Kate to make her way up to the rooftop, working her way from fire escape to fire escape until she finally pulls herself up to the edge of the roof with the others. "Oh, hey," she grins as she finds more than just Keith in residence. "Looks like you're having a party up here." There's a pause as she actually takes in faces. "All right, maybe not quite a party. What's up?"

"I've lived here most of my life. It's not so bad." So says the fellow that fights crime as a costumed vigilante. Robin's eyebrows raise behind his mask. He looks like he's about to say something else, but curbs his thought and then just takes to silence as he turns to see the green bat land on the roof.

"Man. Everyone makes me feel so ordinary in comparison." His lips turn into a lopsided smile, but the thought of someone hunting Vorpal doesn't exactly inspire a long-term smile, culminating in a small frown, "Who… or what… is hunting you?"

There's a chirp at his com link and Tim's eyebrows draw together as his weight shifts and he straightens back to a stand.

"Hey, it's Robin… number three… " there's a smirk as he clarifies. "… oh-kay… " He squints behind the mask and then sighs. "Yeah… I'll be there. Fifteen minutes… out."

Robin points towards the road, "I gotta — " He frowns again, his face almost a scowl as he reaches for his grappling gun. "I'll catch up with you later. Sorry." And with a soft clink of metal meeting rooftop, the Boy Wonder disappears.

It was only a few seconds ago that Raven received a texted message informing her that something was amiss. Would it have mattered how far away from Gotham she was at the time? No, it would not. No sooner does Vorpal's phone chirp that it has successfully sent the message does a whisp of purple smoke pull back away from the hooded image of the pale faced woman.

Her violet eyes jump from face to face, but settle on Keith expectantly. She's wearing a Misfits hoodie over a black tank-top and black jeans with dock martins and somehow still manages to look like she is expecting to be fighting a host of demons.

Keith catches Gar and frowns at him, putting his arms around him steady him. "Garfield Logan, I thought I told you it wasn't a good idea to go changing around while you were still under the effects of that… … thatthing." He frowns and then exhales, checking his anger. It's not Garfield he's angry at. He's scared for him. "I wish it were a party, Kate. Something bad is happening. Really bad. It hit Gar, but it was coming after me." Keith mutters, looking over his shoulder. "Remember that night with the Wild Hunt? Remember the name of the group who apparently called the hunt? The circle Orobor—-

TxhWoomf! And then he senses it. Keith slowly turns from Kate to the puff of smoke.

"Raven… Gar's been cursed…"

Gar doesn't turn into anything in the process of slithering himself around to where his head is resting in Keith's lap. This is, to those who know, an indicator of something OFF… and to those who can sense magic of whatever kind, he's got a faint scorched blue aroma to him; either he was attacked and defended himself, or he managed to use something that would be a lot easier to do if you use magic, and also, there's a trace of whatever he fought off, still trying to get him.

"I need a talisman," he mutters. "So next time, they can't hit me with that crap."

"I remember someone called it, yeah," Kate says slowly, looking between the others. "But to tell you the truth, I was sort of more wrapped up in the whole Wild Hunt thing. So you think it wasn't just someone stupid messing around, you think they did it on purpose, to come after you?" Her brows rise, somewhere between surprised and uncertain. "Who'd you piss off?"

Once she is certain that Gar is not dead and Keith is still mostly intact, Raven settles down. Which is quite a feat for someone how so readily expresses this little emotions. How does one know when I break wall is nolonger upset? Perhaps it is the exasperated sigh and the scornful glare directed at Keith and, to a lesser extent, Gar in his lap.

Still… She walks over to the pair and kneels down, since she can sense the magic coming off of her teammate and smell the singe of smoke radiating around him. Her black fishnet covered hand hovers a few inches away from the side of the green changlings face with her eyes closed. If she cannot find the source of the magic, perhaps she can accertain the type used.

Keith's hand strokes Gar's hair and he bites his lip.

"I don't know, Kate. They asked about the Cait Sidhe, chased Gar and I across the rooftops until we were cornered. Gar tried to protect me by becoming a Cait… and then those sons of bitches—" pause. He swallows his rage and keeps stroking Gar's hair to soothe him as Raven does what she does, also trying to keep his emotions in check so as not to provide too much background noise.

"The circle wants to return the Cait to 'how he should be'. I guess they want to rip his spirit from mine." He leaves the rest in the air. He's told his story- he is only alive because he merged with the Cait Sidhe.

"They're… extremely powerful and ruthless. And I don't know what to do…"

The magic is a curse of enslavement, which makes it black magic, against an animal nature, which is why it was able to target Gar even though he's human; it has twists of Elvish magic in it that's got Gar's signature - he was being something mythical, and Raven's seen through the years how that only happens when he's in emotional extremes and that it takes a lot of energy. The curse summons a sort of 'worm' that takes over the will of the animal it infests, making it obedient to the caaster of the curse. There's still enough trace of it to tell that.

"Same people who called the wild hunt attacked us last night, Fenris said they were just outriders, not the main group. They were on green Irish Elk… they were hunting and they started going for Vorpal, and they were making noises about 'freeing' the Cait Sith from his 'prison'," Gar wheezes, angrily. "I managed to mess up the one attacking me, I freed his mount. For good, I think."

Gar breathes heavily for a second, expressing that much emotion was exhausting.

"They escaped into the Green, Raven. They're using something there to get around. They shouldn't be able to do that."

Kate frowns quietly, stepping closer to get a look at what Raven's doing, as if she's going to be able to see something. Not that she can, but watching is sort of a habit. "I don't…know a whole lot about that sort of thing," she admits. "Though maybe I could call Mister Wolfson. He might know something."

Furrow lines knot their way across Raven's forehead as she feels the twisting magic the casters used against the Changling. Her expression grows darker with the shadows of her hoods pulling into strange shapes within the folds of fabric up over her head. After a moment more she lowers her hand down to her knee and looks to Garfield. "If we can draw them out, I will be able to follow them back and find out how they are getting around."

Then her eyes turn towards Keith when he says that the group is powerful and ruthless, staring at him flatly from the darkness of her hood. "So am I."

"Gar, take it easy," Keith speaks quietly, his hand on Gar's forehead. "You shouldn't really be out of bed," he mutters. At Kate's suggestion, he thinks.

"He did say he objected to their 'poaching', he made them retreat last night… but we need information. Information on this 'circle oroboros', and there's someone who might help us. If we could only find him."

"Constantine. John Constantine's his name, and he has a haunted house with a library. But I don't know how to find him… perhaps Wolfson…" he considers Kate. "… how do you feel about helping someone to face crazy magic green knights? You know… totally unrelated question," he tries to give her a smile. Isn't very successful.

He looks at Raven's exchange with Gar. "Raven, is there anything that can be done for Gar now?

This curse… if they were to return while he's still weakened…" Keith frowns. Then again, if Gar were too weak to fight, then he could end up facing them alone, which would take Gar out of immediate danger. He ponders this.

Gar's 'martyr sense' is tingling again. "Keith. You do not get to draw them away from me by using yourself as bait."

He smiles at Raven for her declaration of menace, because she is and it's kind of awesome to watch. From a safe distance hopefully.

"I could call Danny, see if he knows how to get to that bar where Constantine hangs out," Gar suggests, and closes his eyes against the moving sky. There's a pulse of something fiercely red inside his aura, and the left-over black stuff — some kind of tiny eggs, it seems — burns some more, as the Red denies them the use of Shape in this world. Only a bit more left, one more pulse would do it.

"I don't think I know a John Constantine," Kate muses, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she watches the group. "But I know someone who can get in touch with Wolfson. And since we sort of chased off a randy satyr, she sort of owes me one anyhow." She focuses back on Keith, smile quirking. "You know me, I'm always up for going up against people who've got me outgunned."

"Maybe." Raven says to Keith, inwardly feeling the confusing mix of powerful magics competing within Gar as if they were intimately her own struggle. Her hand settles on his forearm and her eyes close once again. For several seconds the air around her becomes a stage show of purple energy writhing off her hoodie like a mystical fire burning by an unknown, and probably unhealthy, source. "I cannot break the curse without knowing the mechanics of its placement, but I believe I can temporarily misdirect it."

Which requires coming dangerously close to a very scary line. Even in the darkness, maybe specifically in the darkness, Raven's pale skin becomes a glowing translucence. When her eyes open the violet is a pulsating resivoir of unquestionably demonic power. Not so much '

'Tricking' the curse, as bully brow beating it into looking in another direction. As she channels more of her own dark soul-self into the quiet incantation the grasp on Gar's arm grows stronger and the purple flame dances violently around her sending of wisps of smoke as fire meets cold Jersey air.

Something like a growl starts to reverberate inside the small woman. Jaw clinching beneath the skin of her face, muscles working until she pulls her hand away. There should be temporary relief, even though the curse has not been removed. The 'Red' now has a bit of 'purple' helping it keep the 'black' at bay. Because nothing explains magic quite like colors.

"Tell you what, I don't use myself as bait if you stop getting yourself cursed," Keith gives Gar a half smile and rests his hand on his chest. And then the half smile fades when Raven becomes…

Now it becomes all too evident why she keeps such a hermetic lid on herself. Even he felt a hint of that, the chaos inside of him focusing into a fine point as it pays attention.

And then he remembers to breathe. And grasp Gar's hand, because feeling that near him just scared the bejeezus out of him.

"… a satyr, you say?" Keith asks with a thread of a voice, grasping at a subject, no matter how inappropriate, for the moment.

There's even a Terry Pratchett story about the colors of magic, though it's rather specific that magic in a turtle-conveyed universe is Octaroon colored. The extra help is what Gar needs to fight off the last of it - there's a second bright red pulse that burns away at the remaining 'eggs' and Gar's breathing eases up.

"Thanks, Ray," he says in a raspy voice. "Tolja she was good."

He's still tired, but no longer forced to fight off a magical infestation, and he falls asleep for a moment or two.

"And his valkyrie girlfriend, at the shelter," Kate nods to Keith, distracted by the light show that is Raven playing with Gar's magic. "That…is really impressive. Whatever just happened there," she offers to Raven, smile flickering.

With her light show finished and Gar looking exausted, by far less haunted, Raven squeezes his arm once more and pushes up from her kneeling position beside him to stand demure a few steps away from the group. Her head cast down, she glances at Kate from just under the edge of the hood and gives the other woman a brisk, unadorned nod.

Whether or not she was agreeing that it was, quite honestly, impressive or acknowledging the compliment however?

Then she looks to Vorpal and Gar with eyes that nolonger blaze, but are every bit as violet. Both hands slip into the pockets of the jacket and pull it together over her black tank-top because it's cold in Gotham. Tank-top was a bad idea.

Near the little group of friends space and time distort and tear as someone opens a Way. Out of that ragged hole in what should be steps a tall, lean man with a predatory air about him. In his left hand is very large, silvery sword on which is evaporating the last bit of what looks like black sludge. He glances around noting first Raven, then Gar and Keith and finally Kate. "Aaaah. That's what I felt. All's well then." He rumbles mostly to himself as he dismisses the blade. It turns into a silver necklace which he places on his neck.

"Hello again. No trouble from the Wurms I hope?"

Embarrassment. Raven's display was frightening, but ultimately she was an ally and a team-mate.

"Raven, thank you," Keith says quietly, "Would you like some tea? I made some not too long in the room below." As Garfield falls asleep, Keith puts his arms around him in order to keep him from falling off his lap.

And then it dawns on Keith that he has never introduced the two ladies. "Kate Bishop, Hawkeye, this is Raven. Raven, Kate. Raven is a member of my team and an old friend of Gar's."

Keith tenses visibly when a hole tears through reality, eyes narrowed in anticipation of an attack-

"Fenris-" Keith exhales, looking tired all of a sudden. He hasn't really slept, keeping watch - so to speak - over himself and Gar. He thinks the bags under his eyes are fitting, really. They're all the rage. "—No, nothing yet. But they're going to come, aren't they?"

Gar is asleep — he didn't really get to do much of that last night, with the throwing up evil worm-spirits and the feverishness, and then he had to go to class, and he even has to teach one in the morning, which will be interesting but at least possible. Of course, sleep here on the roof in the cold isn't very comfortable. He shifts in his sleep, turning into a ferret and tunneling into Keith's shirt. Without waking up, quite.

"Speak of the devil," Kate smiles faintly as Fenris appears. "Nice to meet you," she adds with a nod to Raven before taking a step back. "'Scuse me a moment, going to check on something." She steps away for a bit, where there's some eye rolling and sighing. "That's because you can't put those in the microwave, Clint," she mutters to herself.

Raven, likewise, turns towards the uncomfortable feeling of reality being torn and finds herself locking eyes with Fenris and his gore covered blade. Her thin lips press together into a fine line until he greets Keith, at which point she relaxes and turns towards Kate as Vorpal provides introductions. She nods quietly and remains quiet where she stands, turning just enough to watch Vorpal and Gar like a protective older sister might when she doesn't trust either of them not to blow themself up… not terribly unlike Clint putting metalic stuff in a microwave, it turns out.

Fenris gives the mage a curious look. He'd try to appear less threatening but… this is as good as it gets. It's not very reassuring. He practically radiates 'big bad' to anyone with half a sense of self preservation.

"Lingering effects?" He asks looking at the green ferret in Keith's shirt. (No, he won't ask if he's just happy to see him). "I had been concerned that perhaps they might choose tonight to follow up. I'm glad to see I was wrong."

Turning again to Raven he bows. "Greetings. I am, as you heard, the Fenris Wolf. Just Fenris is fine though. Or Jeremiah, if you prefer my name for the next couple of decades."

Keith nods slowly. "Lingering effects from the curse. Couldn't persuade him to take the day off. Nor tomorrow, for that matter." And he thought cats were stubborn. He shrugs off his jacket slowly and drapes it over his lap to cover Ferret-Gar.

He lets Raven introduce herself, because he doesn't know how she waants to introduce herself to the mythic being.

"Jeremiah… was a bullfrog." Keith smirks a little at the name, though his usual sense of humor is far from being present. "Sorry. Not much sleep."

To be fair, Raven doesn't seem overly intimidated, but then she doesn't do the whole expression thing very well. Could be she's shaken to her very core and is crazy good at hiding it beneath the almost obnoxiously impassive face partially hidden beneath her hood. "Raven or Rachel Roth." She is aware of the Fenris Wolf and not only because his name was spoken only a few seconds ago.

She is not a mystic of the caliber of some others, but she has her share of knowledge.

"Raven or Rachel." Since they are sharing pleasantries on what either or may call the other by. "Preferably Raven."

"Hello Raven." Fenris chuckles a little. "The tempation to compare you with the All-Father's favored servants will fade in time. I hope." He does so want to call her Munin right now. Ah well.

"Well, I had come over because I sensed unusual magic being used here, but I see it is simply one of your allies." Fenris doesn't police magic in his hunting grounds so much as make sure that the people using it aren't idiots trying to summon up elder horrors. When he finds them, they generally meet bad ends one way or another.


"I have been meaning to ask … you remember John Constantine, do you not?" Keith asks hopefully. "We were in that mansion with him. I thought that maybe he might know… something?"

Because the other idea he had had so far involved a certain teller of lies who rhymed with "hokey", and only because he might be the lesser of two evils.

Or maybe not.

Raven considers Fenris when she is weighed against the All-father's companions and shrugs, "I have been compared to worse." Flatly, turning to Vorpal, "I will be by later." In way of farewell, she does not step away rather, simply vanish in the twisting wisps of purple smoke that temporarily creates a portal between two points.

"He probably does, and if he does not, he almost certainly knows where to look." Fenris rumbles in thought. "Though that's far from the only… repository of knowledge available to us. May I ask what exactly you are looking for?" He looks after the departing Raven with nary a word. Merely a grunted 'huh'.

Keith looks down, to make sure the ferret is still asleep. Then he looks up. "Maybe a way to repell them. Although by what you said, it does not seem to be very likely. Failing that, something perhaps to protect Garfield. They're not going to stop until they've got me or are defeated, and you made it sound like defeating them would take more than what we've got… so. Call me a fool, but if I can't ensure my own safey, then the least I could do is look after…"

"I might call you a fool, but if I did I would do so for other reasons." The Old Wolf murmurs, looking at the emerald ferret once more. "The Circle vanished shortly after I arrived in this world, though they'd not been gone long. There may be a charm proof against their magicks but they count among their number some very, very potent druids and the beasts they bend to their will…" Are not normal. Fenris dealt with them and their leavings once or twice.

The redhead looks at Fenris at the comment, "And what reasons would those be?" he asks, absent-mindedly as he looks over the city. The fullness of autumn felt closer and closer. Soon it would be time to wear thicker clothing. Scarves would start flapping around. Not the kind that helped you move from building to building.

"For the reasons many people make fools of themselves. They're all common and being a cat-spirit does not make you immune to them." The Old Wolf is actually smiling now. "But the most likely reason would be one I hope you avoid. Letting fear rule your actions. Fear is good. It's natural. It keeps you alive and reminds you that your actions have consequences, but it's use ends when decisions must be made. The Circle knows of you now. Whatever they choose to do with you, you will need to face it." He pauses. "And you will likely be very sensibly afraid for many things. But act in that fear… and all may come undone."

"No pressure, then," Keith murmurs, his mouth twisted into a sour expression.

"They want the Cait, and whatever they want can't be good. So the only option is not give it to them by any costs. Problem: Gar said they somehow can access 'the green', whatever that is. If they can't find me, then-" he pauses and looks down at Gar. Then up again. "They'll try to lure me out by going after someone who tried to defend me. Since the Titans can't be stuck to my back twnety-four seven because they have, you know, lives… that increases the possibility that they'll either get to Gar at some point, or me."

Suddenly, he wishes he had taken up smoking at some point in his life. The situation somehow called for one. "Fucking A, this is a Catch twenty-two here. If I hide, Gar's at risk. If I don't hide, I die and the Cait is freed, and that's probably going to be pretty ugly. In the horns of a dilemma and both horns are pointing at my groin here."

"How colorful." Fenris hadn't heard that one before, but it communicates the issue quite nicely. "Which leaves you two options. Strike first, which may be unwise, or strike a deal. Well, or find allies. The Circle as a collective though, is quite potent. Even I might balk at the thought of pitched battle with them alone. They're likely to be beyond the power of any single being you're likely to know or know of, no matter how potent or skilled."

"Even that of the Liesmith?" Keith asks, his voice rather monotone at this point. "Are they beyond the power of gods?"
It was a thought. The circle of Oroboros would shatter him and unleash something the world had not seen in thousands of years. What would Loki do? He might, perhaps, spare him in exchange for… what? Services? Then he'd be a pawn in his schemes. But perhaps Vorpal tarnishing himself in schemes was better than the unfettered chaos that was the Cait Sidhe unleashed.

"Otherwise…" He shakes his head. "There's no deal to be struck. They want to 'free' it. You can't do that halfway. And all of my allies," he takes a breath. "All of my allies put together can't match that power."

"There's always the option of destroying what they want so they can never get it, too." He's thought about it. Briefly and only as a last resort. He knew, though, that if he were to be split from the chaos-cat, that he would die while the cat could thrive. But for as long as they were bound together, they were of one life. If Keith died, so did the Cait, its immortality nullified by the nature of the flesh.

"I believe that's what they call 'Plan B' in some circles."

"My father might be their equal in magic, but they're cunning enough not to match strength for strength. You do not challenge the elements and gods by doing so. And as for me, were I to unleash my full power it could mean the end of this world. It would certainly mean the end of whatever happened to be nearby when I did it, and even so their collective might is such that they may find a way to challange me. There is a reason your friend's masters do not wish to see them return." Fenris sounds pensive, especially as Keith mentions 'plan B'.

"What does the Cait himself think?"

"He has been silent since last night," Keith admits. "I can only hear… the other part of me that I call Vorpal. There's three of us, and right now he is saying nothing. I think he cheshires the idea of being free, so he is giving me no advice. And… no. I haven't told him about it, either," Keith says, glancing briefly at the ferret.

"You know, I think I'm going to die. And I'm afraid this time it's going to stick."

He half-smirks at a thought. "Funny, though. Dying itself isn't what really worries me. I've done it already, I know what it's like. It's what it's going to do to him." He looks over his shoulder at Fenris. "But I can't tell him. I can't tell him how I suspect this is going to end because he'll try to do something stupid. And brave."

"He's young." Fenris notes. "He's likely to do that anyway. Learning to deal with death is part of life. If it must be yours that provides the lesson, that is how it will be. And if the matter is truly already decided, then the most important thing to do is decide how you will live between now and then."
Fenris turns to look out across the city scape. "Myself, I do not believe in that kind of fate. The other Asir are big on it. I'm not such a fan. I do not think that the matter is closed quite yet. But since you cannot control what they will do, it remains to ask yourself: What will you do?"

"He's no younger than I am," Keith mutters. "He's dealt with it before. Too much, actually. He's lost two sets of parents, and the person he trusted enough to love in the past ended betraying him and killed herself after unsuccessfully trying to kill him and his team. He deserves better than this."

"I don't know what to do." He's in the fine line between despair and resignation, but still clings to the idea of something. "There must be an answer somewhere but I can't see it. I'm not a wizard, I'm not some mythic warrior or a demigod."

"For which we can all be thankful." The Great Wolf turns back with a smile. "They show an astounding lack of sense often times. You have time yet Vorpal. They've yet to decide what to do about you and so the matter is not yet out of your hands. But decide on a course of action and move swiftly. Once the Circle's will is set, they wait for neither man nor spirit-beast. John Constantine may be of some help, but if you cannot find him, I know of one you might seek out… though she will be very, very confused."

Keith looks up, suddenly focused. "Who? Who is it? What is her name and how can I find her?" Clinging to the slightest thread at this point. As long as there's one possibility, something he can chase down, something concrete he can exhaust.

"Sara Pezzini, of the New York Police Department. She bears a magical artifact which is awake and will remember these men and their plans and ambitions. It may know, if it can be persuaded between the two of you to share." Fenris makes a slight face. "Though the Witchblade is somewhat… temperamental."

"The… Witchblade?" Keith files the name away in his mind as a contact to pursue immediately in the morning. "What is the … Witchblade? And how do I introduce myself to this lady?"

"It's an ancient magical artifact that is the balance between light and darkness. Detective Pezzini can tell you more." Fenris shrugs. He's known a number of bearers over the years, so he's had more exposure to the Witchblade than most, but he's not an expert by any means. "As for the woman herself. She's a New York Police Detective. Knock on her office door. I suggest not getting arrested on the way in. May sour the introduection."

Sara Pezzini. Detective. Keith nods and slowly stands up, careful not to wake Garfield up. "If this works, we'll both be in your debt," he says quietly. Ferets are hard to wake, once they get a good snooze in. They're nature's slinky, so being jostled a bit isn't too much of an issue. Still… it's good to be cautious.

"Just for the record… I'm no martyr. I want to live as much as the next guy. I don't take 'Plan B' lightly."

"That is well." Fenris turns and with a gesture of his hand, tears open another Way. "Martyrdom is not known for its effectiveness as a problem solving method. I shall be about, Vorpal. Stay safe, if you can." And with that, he's gone."

"Easier said than done. This is Gotham." Keith points out, watching Fenris disappear into the tear.

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