2014.01.22 - Round-The-Clock

It was an especially quiet post-rush hour drive, as Dinah made her way across town to the Clocktower as fast as she could. Her head was still throbbing, waves of pain ebbing and flowing. She parked discreetly, and heading towards the entrance. Dinah hadn't much caught up with Oracle in over a month now, and with recent events plaguing Dinah's thoughts, now seemed the best time. Heading inside, she made her way into a sitting area, and sent Barbara a text message stating her arrival. She took several deep breaths, enjoying the moment of calm, as anxious hopes whispered in her mind. Hopes that Barbara might've already found some sort of clue--a lead--to whoever this tormenting figure was.
Even before the text is sent, DELPHI lets Babs know Dinah has arrived. Coming out of the shower, downstairs, she sends the text message back: 'Be right up. I'll bring the tea.' 
Thus, dressed in clean clothes, hair still damp, Babs steps off the lift in the shrouded corner of the roost, beyond the glass case that houses her old Batgirl costume. She carries with her two steaming mugs and pads (as in walks) over to Dinah on nearly silent feet.
"Hey," she says in greeting, a frown of concern on her bespectacled face. "Helena told me the outcome from last night. You okay?" She sets one of the mugs down beside her friend, taking a moment to give her an evaluating once-over.
Dinah's face lit up for a few seconds, hearing Barbara's voice... it somehow relaxed her a bit. Turning to look, she caught her face. Dinah's eyes tracked down to the steaming mugs of tea, and even lower to... standing legs! Her gaze leapt back upward, eyebrow vaulting up like a spring, "Forget me... What happened to *you*?" she said, cheerily, momentarily forgetting her own situation.
Babs laughs now, green eyes sparkling as she settles down beside her friend. "Christmas Eve with Tony Stark," she says archly, amusement in her tone. It's no secret from her friends that she and Stark have been collaborating on a bunch of small projects. This one, however? This one was a bit of a surprise to her, too. 
She grows more serious. "He's working on a traumatic injury treatment for first responders and others. It's called 'Extremis'. I was a guinea pig, basically. She stretches out her legs in the air before her and wiggles her toes in her shoes. They can just be seen rippling and flexing under the leather. "It worked."
Gently taking one of the hot mugs, Dinah brought it to her lips and gave a little blow. After a quick sip, she gave an almost prideful grin in response to Barbara's collaboration and new-found mobility. "Couldn't think of a more deserving candidate, but I bet he said the same thing. That charmer," she mused. "What've been things been like otherwise?" she asked, pausing an awkward moment. Dinah felt her body's energy levels drop, suddenly, but tried to maintain composure. "You can tell I'm trying to avoid talking about me, can't you? I couldn't reach Helena or Clint all day."
Yeah. Babs knows Dinah well enough to know when she's avoiding. Even so, she can indulge a little of it. "Other than that?" She shakes her head, a faint scowl settling briefly on it. "Some nutjob kidnapped my father, because she thought he was crooked." The cleanest cop in Gotham. Right. "And I've been dealing with a persistent and recalcitrant hacker who keeps breaking into the GCPD in search of information on a 'client'. The girl just checked into to the South Gotham safehouse, but damned if I know what I'm actually going to do with her. Input anything into any records about her and they start to get eaten almost immediately. Even DEPHI can't hold onto the details. So far, they only exist in my head." And she has eidetic memory. "It's enough to drive me crazy." 
But, she lets that go with a shake of her head and regards her friend directly. "I haven't heard from Helena or Clint at all," she admits. "Not since they dragged you back home, last night." She wrinkles her nose, picking up her own mug and taking a small sip. "I've been looking at what you sent me. And had DELPHI run it through as many analysis algorithms as we can come up with. Even with all that, it's slow going." Probably not a complete surprise. 
She regards her friend for a moment. "What I have done, however, is highlight all those faces in DELPHI's facial recognition scanner, so we'll be able to keep tabs on where they are, what they're doing, and who they meet along the way." Of course, it's dependent on the digital net she's spread across the city -- and the world, actually. They don't have the manpower to set actual tails on everyone. But, it's a start. 
"Tell me exactly what happened, Di. I need to know how you found this stuff. I've been analyzing the physical materials for any evidence of who may have sent it, but aside from some highly common gun oil, I haven't got much to go on. Whomever created these photos was very careful about leaving trace residue." A beat. "Although, that also tells us something about their psych profile. It suggests a pro, or someone that's compulsively OCD. Or both."
"I keep recycling things in my head," Dinah began. "Clocked a lot of hours on my bike this week--ever since I got that red envelope. Was the night I caught Mr. Witney. Shoved into my mailbox while I was out," with a quick breath, she continued, "Probably was a pro--how else could he know one thing would set me off like this? I wouldn't have thought I'd get so rattled. Days and nights... I just keep reflecting on who I am, and who I've become. The training. Green. The Justice League. And you. All these things that made me so strong, now it feels like a house of cards." She worried she sounded melodramatic on the surface, and felt more of a need to explain.
"There's something else--" Dinah started, her expression building into some odd mix of frazzled and wistful. "--and you're the only one whom I can trust with this," she said with lament. "Ollie's clubhouse has been trying so hard to understand what's happening, but I don't want to shake the tree... I fear I already have. I want them to see me for what I am--" she says insistently, "--the 'strong' Dinah."
"You can't let this guy get into your head, Dinah," Babs says, putting a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Trust me on this. I've been there." Two words: The Joker. Babs knows a thing or two about a messed up head and destroyed confidence. "Who you are, Dinah, is very much a strong, capable woman who has been exceptionally been well trained and has learned to make smart choices, instead of easy choices. Who and what you are may include your past, but isn't ruled by it. You need to remember that." And if she ever forgets, Babs will be quite willing to smack her upside the head to remind her of that every time she needs it. 
She shakes her head again, letting her hand fall away. "And you need to not be afraid to ask for help on this. The Birds. The Arrows. Some of us, all of us, whomever. Whomever you want." She gives a wry smile. "I'm a cop's kid, Dinah. One of the first things I learned is that you can't protect everyone you love all the time. No matter how much you want to. And it hurts. A lot. To this day -- and particularly after that damned nutjob in the sewers -- I worry constantly about Dad. And I worry about each and every one of you, every time I send you out in to the field."
She inhales lightly and lets the breath go. "I feel only marginally better, now, knowing I can actually join you out there."
Dinah looked down at Barbara's feet. "I'm looking forward to that, too." She spent a moment thinking about The Joker, and many of the other crazy-balls people that they'd had to contend with. But, still, there was more to say, and Dinah looked like she was struggling to find the right words. After a moment, she just gave up and spat it out: "Hallucinations. Crazy shit," she said with a shame-laden, exacerbated tone. Getting the words out brought her an instant sense of relief, however, and her face went a little flush. "It's gotta be the lack of sleep--but I'm seeing horrible, random things. People's faces twisting into monsters," she paused in a near-tearful breath, "Helena said I almost *killed* Clint--but my mind was... fogged out," she said, admitting that there was more to the story of her attack then she'd previously let on. Her face sunk, and the sensation instantly reminded Dinah of her low energy. "The biggest reason I'm not sleeping isn't even that. It's the nightmares, worse than I could ever imagine. Like something rang a bell and every terror I'd ever considered was now up my ass, haunting me." Dinah started to get up, to pull away--almost as if doing somehow would turn the thoughts 'off'. "It's been going on for weeks," she said, but then stopped speaking. Her expression, eyes wide, held a gaze of contemplation for a strangely long three seconds. She realized something, and spoke it: "Before I got the envelope."
Babs' brows rise at that. "Dinah..." She shoves herself to her feet, setting her mug aside. "You should have said something about that well before now, D," she says, crossing toward the med station. She fishes though one of the drawers of med supplies and pulls out a couple of sterile tabs -- the kind diabetics might use to test their blood sugar. Returning to the sofa, she places the tabs on her palm and extends them to Dinah. "I want a sample. Now. We live in a city where criminals like Scarecrow are a fact of life. If someone's managed to get hallucinogens into your system somehow, we need to know. And, if not... well, we need to know that, too." If only so they can rule the former cause out.
Dinah, looking a little stunned, nodded submissively. Without even willing it, she saw her arm already raised and ready for a blood sample, as if someone else had done it. Dinah looked away from the sight, almost like a small child might. She peered out towards the elevator of The Clocktower--somehow mesmerized by some random lights on a control panel. In her own mind, the lights around had begun to dim slowly. Only a second after Barbara was able to get a sample of blood, Dinah almost collapsed onto the bench. She was breathing heavily, gasping for air, and about to pass out.
Babs makes it easy on Dinah. She picks up her friend's hand and simply pricks the tip of her middle finger and her thumb. Two different samples she can run through the analyzers, looking for various combination of hallucinogens. She crosses back to the med station and sticks them into the analyzer. "DELPHI, run these samples and break down the composition for me. Highlight any hallucinogens or materials that in combination can cause such. Compare, particularly, to known Scarecrow formulae." 
That done, she crosses back to her friend and sets down beside her once more. "Di?" The woman's elevated breathing and obvious distress concerns her. She lays a hand against her face and forehead to check her temperature. "Jesus, Dinah... You aren't going anywhere else, tonight. C'mon. The guest room downstairs will do." Mainly because she doesn't intend to sleep in the roost tonight and wants her close to hand, if there's any problem.
Dinah soon found her torso pressed against the bench, her muscles weak. Was this exhaustion? Drugs? Panic? She could no longer tell, her body feeling almost like someone elses, like hitching a ride. She turned her head upward to look ad Barbara, who'd been checking her temperature. The lights of the the Clocktower's wall, as far as Dinah could tell, were fluctuating their brightness in a slow strobe. She smiled, almost deliriously, hearing the invitation to stay. "Thank you."
Category:Log