2013.07.15 - One Ringy Dingy

It's not too far from Vorpal's apartment--- Patrick isn't letting him out to do the 'heroing' thing until he has fully recovered, which is why Keith is in his civilian clothes and not his hero suit.

But that isn't a huge difference. He could be dressed in a tuxedo and people would know he wasn't a regular Joe. He was pacing on the rooftop, gathering his wits -- and also making sure he didn't look like a mess. Because, hey, Oracle had more cameras than the FBI (Huntress' words, but he thought they were amusing enough.) He couldn't give the image of a sloppy vigilante, now, could he? Cats had their own aspect of vanity.

"Alright... let's see..." he takes out the cell phone and dials the only pre-programmed number on it. "One ringy dingy... two ringy dingy. Have I reached the party to whom I am speaking? ..." he says to himself as the phone rings, his voice high and nasal as he mimics Ernestine...

As the tips line on her displays light up, Barbara sets down the Batgirl doll she'd been looking at, and starts running a trace. It always helps to know just to whom it is one is speaking.

She flips on her scrambler, picks up her headset, and jams it on her head. Adjusting the microphone, she clicks the answer button for the tips line.

"This is Oracle." And not an answering service, despite the digital tones.

"Oracle? This is Keith O'Neil. Hope I'm not calling at a busy time." He looks for a comfortable place to sit. Like the top of a chimney. From there he could see if anyone was near him or went up the stairs to the roof, so that he could close the call if there were any eavesdroppers.

Oracle chuckles softly at that bit of courtesy. "Mr. O'Neil," she greets, androgynous, digital tones even. "What can I do for you, Vorpal?"

You say, "Well, the business with Arkham... I don't need to tell you that the Joker is loose with that clown girl of his. I feel responsible for that." He swings his legs, looking around a bit. "I was talking to Huntress the other day, and she said you might have some ideas on how to lure the clown out. Considering my brushes with him in the past, Huntress thought I would make a good bait for a trap."

Barbara arches a brow at that. She's not all that keen on using anyone as bait for anything that has to do with Clowns. She has ISSUES with Clowns. Particularly the Clown Prince of Gotham.

Her trace locates Vorpal's phone and her cameras start compositing a 3D representation of him on his rooftop via her experimental holo system.

"The Joker is very dangerous, Mr. O'Neil. You've been very lucky, up to this point. I don't know that using yourself as bait for a trap is a particularly wise idea. There are other ways to lure him out." That don't involve painting a target on a person.

"As long as he's out there, every death he causes is on my head, Oracle. I don't think wise ideas really help us at this point. Unless there's an intervention from the Bat, andd I'm not counting on that by what Huntress said, people here in Gotham are going to have to do something about it. And that's us."

He crosses his legs under him. "And he's out because I couldn't keep him in the box. I have to take responsbility for my actions, and I knew the risks when I decided to take this life up."

Barbara slips off her glasses and rubs a knuckle hard between her eyes. "Vorpal," Oracle's voice is steady, but only because Babs is forcing the weariness out of it. "One of the very first things you need to learn about The Joker is that he always escapes. He's escaped the police, he's escaped Batman, he's escaped me... If there's a cape or cowl in Gotham he hasn't escaped, it's only because he hasn't met them, yet. Congratulations, you're now officially a Gotham vigilante."

She doesn't mean to sound sarcastic. And, indeed, the digital warping of her voice ensures that most of it is kept out. She's serious, instead. "That doesn't mean we can't catch him and put him back in his box. We can. We have. And we will. It also doesn't mean I'm saying we should just let him go." Hell, no. Again: ISSUES. "But, it does mean I'm not going to dangle you in front of his nose as bait. There are other ways. We just need to find them."

Vorpal frowns, "Well, I'm open to suggestions. The reason I'm not reticent to be bait is because he might decide to come after me anyways. I don't have a secret identity and I'm easy to track down. And in this case, it's two people at risk."

By this time, Barbara has a serious filter search going on for anything and everything related to the Joker's recent activities. She considers his options. "Give me some time to see if I can piece together his movements since his escape," she tells the purple cat. "Maybe we can deduce what he's after and pull something together from that."

She frowns. "In the meantime, I want you to keep as low a profile as you can." A beat. "And for God's sake, make sure you or whomever you're with makes sure to check the apartment security feed or the peephole before you open the apartment door to anyone." Another beat, while she grimaces.

"Trust me on that."

"I'm going to take him to the countryside for a few days while you do your search. Under the 'romantic getaway'... since you're The Oracle, I'm sure it won't take you long to realize that the person with whom I live has no last name. I don't want to breach his confidence, except to say that he isn't entirely defenseless either... but nobody is 'safe' from the Joker. The low profile thing... I'm going to try. But I can't sit by and let some things just happen, you know?"-- as he spoke, there was a release about him and Wiccan stopping a woman from getting killed by a cult in Central Park. "--- call it a character flaw."

"Hardly a flaw, Mr. O'Neil." And, if it is, it's one he shares with many, many people -- Barbara Gordon, included. She's not too worried about Vorpal's activities, at this moment. It's Joker's she's more concerned about. "Regardless, a bit of 'getaway' is a good idea. Go. Take... Patrick with you. By the time you return I should have something." She hopes.

"Alright. I'll have the phone with me while I'm away... I found a cabin that's not quite out of service range, in case you call." Yeah, even when planning a romantic getaway, work was still on his mind. "I'll wait for your call... anything else you'd like me to know? Like don't take any wooden knickels or something?" He smiles a little.

"The Joker isn't a joke, Vorpal," Oracle says sharply, not really caring if the kid things she's mothering. "His goal is mayhem, insanity, and death." Usually in that order, but not always. A beat. "Wooden nickels would be just his style."

"I know what he does, Oracle... I'm not stupid. I've seen his eyes, you know. I'm quite aware that he's not someone you survive often. But I'm a Cheshire cat... my way of surviving something is to try and laugh at it. Otherwise... I can't let go." He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the stone Constantine had given him. He rubs it, for good measure.

Barbara lets out a soft sigh that doesn't translate into her mic. Yeah. Joker's a bit of a button for her. "Just be careful," she says presently. "That's all I ask. We'll be in touch."

The cat frowns. It's impossible to hear voice tones thanks to the filter, but the request sounds... well. "I promise you I will be careful. Laughter's just a defense. I know how serious this is," he says, his voice becoming extremely serious. "... you don't need to worry about me being nuts and streaking naked through Gotham and calling out his name. Okay?"

"Good start," Oracle replies. Barbara looks at the 3D hologram and shakes her head. "Good-bye, Vorpal. Go pack." And that's really about all he's going to get out of her for the moment.

Vorpal turns off the phone and rests his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands. "Well, damnit."

A little version of himself appears on his right shoulder. "You know, you'd do much better if you learned how to keep your mouth shut."

"Yeah, great idea, why don't you start?"

The little Vorp disappears and Keith reaches for his regular phone. Time to book that cabin...