2012-08-09 Be Safe

{{RPLog
 * Title=Be Safe
 * What=Spoiler calls her Birds of Prey boss, Oracle, to tell her about her run in with the Red Hood.
 * Who=Oracle and Spoiler
 * Where=[{Gotham City]]
 * When=August 9,2012
 * Tone=Gritty
 * }}

HERO - Oracle - Thursday, August 09, 2012, 6:55 PM

It's late at night, and the Spoiler is presently speeding away from Crime Alley as fast as her trusty little motorbike will take her, violet helmet /mostly/ fitted over her violet hood; she's gingerly playing with one side of it whenever she has the chance, trying to make sure it's off of her ear. The rest of her cape is wrapped kind of awkwardly around her body, lest it get caught beneath her rear tire.

'Sixteen Year Old Vigilante Found Dead In Motorcycle Accident' would be the /worst/ headline.

|| "Oracle...?" || she tentatively murmurs once she's able to press her index and middle fingers to her comm device.

|| "Batman? Is anyone--is anyone /there/?" ||

Barbara Gordon is mostly recovered from the unnerving situation with the Red Hood, Jason Todd, the day before. She's ready for her usual evening of work, sitting in the command chair in the Clock Tower, with a cup of coffee near at hand, a plate of Pepperidge Farms Milano cookies equally near at hand, and both hands on the keys as she is running S-Phone snapshots of Jason Todd from the deli yesterday against her facial recognition database.

As the call comes over the com, Babs reseats her headset and taps a key. || "Oracle here, Spoiler. What's your situation?" || she asks. Concern creases her brow as she brings up tracking information on the girl's comm.

|| "I'm fine||

The high-pitched squeal of tortured tires briefly cuts across the channel as she sharply cuts around a rail-thin woman in a filthy robe who's too fascinated with staring up at a street lamp to get out of the vigilante's way.

|| "--met someone tonight|| She falls silent for a few seconds.

|| "He saved my life a little|| she quietly admits. || "There were these crackheads." || There's another pause, and when she speaks again, her voice is even smaller: || "There was a gun; I... was about to disarm him||

|| "Go on," || Oracle encourages. She grimaces a the girl's location. || "I don't usually encourage comm-ing while driving Spoiler. Is there somewhere you can pull over for our chat?" || Winding up with a little bird splatted by a dump truck isn't Babs' idea of a good night.

Shortly after the question is asked, Spoiler manages to find an alley without anyone doing drugs in it and decides to settle.

|| "Helmet guy shot him in the face," || she succinctly murmurs. || "For being on his 'turf' - the city. He knows about Batman--I don't think he /likes/ him, either." || Beat. || "I think he's maybe a cop or something--I don't know." ||

|| "Was the helmet red?" || Oracle asks. Jason. He's haunting her more in life than he did in death. She presses a hand to her mouth for a moment to bite back the bile rising in her throat.

|| "Blood red," || Spoiler quietly confirms. She takes a second to pull her helmet off so that she can rub her masked face--as if /that/ will somehow remove the image of those two men lying dead in Crime Alley.

|| "Two guns. Dark body armour, or maybe just a costume--couldn't really tell." || Beat. || "Kind of a huge asshole." ||

|| "He is called the Red Hood. He and Batman have history." || Oracle explains. As does the Red Hood and Nightwing. And the Red Hood and herself. || "He's extremely dangerous. Don't let him know you're associated with myself or Batman, ok?" ||

|| "I--might've mentioned some contact with Batman..." || Stephanie hesitantly murmurs, teeth pressing painfully against her bottom lip as she trails off. The thought of a razor-sharp Batarang suddenly whizzing out of the night air and burying itself into her neck prompts her to quickly tack on, || "Nothing about an association, though, I promise--and nothing about /you/. He just--made fun of me for a while, and--" || She squeezes her eyes shut, his offer of partnership ringing in her memory.

|| "--then--he left." ||

|| "He is incredibly unstable at the moment, Spoiler," || Oracle warns. || "Batman and I, and others, are working on getting him help, but for the moment, he is incredibly dangerous. Nearly Joker-level dangerous, is that clear?" || She feels sweat bead at her temples with worry for the girl. || "Do you have a safe place to stay, one he can't track you to? Consider him to have much of the tech gadgets of the Bat." ||

|| "He /shot two guys in the face/, I /know/ he's dangerous," || Spoiler snappishly replies. || "I'm--" ||

She drops her head onto her arms, folded awkwardly as they are on the handlebars. || "--sorry, I'm sorry," || she meekly transmits. || "No. Yes. Yes. I've seen spy movies: he didn't touch me, or shoot me with anything." ||

Beat.

|| "--Batman doesn't--like--echo-locate, right?" ||

|| "Not that I've been able to tell," || Babs quips, though via the voice distortion it might not sound like a joke. || "But he is the Batman, so I don't count anything out. Pretty sure Hoodie can't though." || She brings up a list of safe houses in the city, and sends them to the girl's phone. || "Here are three options to bunk overnight if you don't feel safe. They all have microwaves, hot and cold running water, and provisions stocked. Also garage space for your bike." ||

|| "Wha--" || Spoiler sputters as her One Direction ringtone starts playing and Oracle rattles off amenities. She fumbles with her belt for a second to retrieve the phone (and a few more to actually get the thing open), and then squints at the screen.

|| "It just seems--overkill," || she whispers.

|| "He threatened to blow up a sandwich shop yesterday because Nightwing likes their Reubens, Spoiler" || Oracle deadpans. || "He also put Huntress in the hospital, just for being possibly Bat-associated. I'm not known for taking chances with the wellbeing of my operatives." ||

|| "Alright, alright," || Spoiler acquiesces with a little groan. || "I get it." ||

|| "Thank you," || she remembers to add after some delay. || "You're a very thoughtful computer butler head--thing." || She /tries/ to say this lightly, but she can't muster anything remotely like amusement right now; her voice is just flat. Tired.

Wait til she tells Alfred she was called a computer butler. He'll laugh his british tush off. || "I'd suggest you go home, Spoiler. If you feel at all unsafe there, use one of the safehouses, all right?" || Oracle suggests. || "Your teammates are just a comm away at all times, remember that." ||

|| "Okay." ||

After straightening up and heaving a weary sigh, Spoiler gives the engine some gas and pulls out of the alley to head home.

|| "I'll be safe; don't worry." ||