2012-07-24 Little Boy Bird

He's in stealth mode. Really, for one more used to scurrying than prowling the night, to be invisible is ones best friend. Particularly after his...decided lack of usefulness in another affair in Gotham a few weeks back, he has been laying even more low than usual. Oh, there is the usual petty crime that he stops, and once he even got bold and broke up an 'association' of local toughs, but that was in New York and quite frankly a decidedly minor coup. Even a decided technological advantage does little when one feels....mediocre.
In hindsight it may have been best to change his frequencies, scramble his communications, whatever it was that technical wizards did when they wished to go to ground. Dragnet however is a tech by accident more than by design, and he has left his channels relatively unchanged. Maybe out of some latent desire for direction, or maybe because he craves the abuse. Difficult to say. So it is, that after half an hour of waiting, he finally drops the cloak and just, waits there. Its not like he has much of anywhere else to go.
He was directed to go to Robinson Park, to a bench beside a fountain. Once he's there, he finds a small note to look under the seat. There he finds an envelope taped to the bottom. Inside is a tiny earpiece and a note that says, "Wear me!"
"Well, got to give the mysterious commanding voice credit. Someone has been reading Carrol." He takes the ear piece and looks at it for a moment, then hooks it into the audio channel for his helmet. Slightly paranoid perhaps, more to insure that the somewhat more confident armor voice comes out than the decidedly less confident tones he is usually saddled with. Since he seemed to be in more trouble last time for running his mouth on autopilot, he instead decides to listen and see what he can learn. With the added benefit of no looming black cape wearing vigilantes, he might actually pick up something of value.
Once the earpiece is in place, the familiar androgynous voice of Oracle comes over it. ||"Hello again, Dragnet. I've been hearing good things about you."|| In her Tower, Barbara Gordon is watching from a hacked security camera nearby. She also has a few others pointed his way, and her satellite overhead feeding her data. ||"Batman has agreed that you can stay in his city, as long as you continue to abide by his rules. I would like to offer you a position on my own team to help train you to Batman's standards. Batman has sanctioned the Birds of Prey to operate in Gotham, but we also frequently help out in New York and Metropolis as well. Once you meet his standards, he may bring you onto his own team."||
Dragnet stays quiet for a moment, then leans in, his fingers pressed into each other, to the point where if they pressed any harder and he wasn't wearing the armor he might feel discomfort. There is only the sound of his breathing, slow, composed exhalations as he gathers his thought. The Handsome Doctor Man is probably watching him. How is not important, as it is probably outside of the scope of his ability to counter. "I didn't know I had done anything worth hearing about. I mean, of course you would hear about it, because I figure you probably know a thing or two about putting patterns together. What I mean is I didn't know I had those kinds of eyes on me. I haven't exactly _done_ much to get noticed." Part doubt, part wondering if his deliberate attempts to avoid interest by just this sort of individuals. The ones who see all, hear all, and generally are smart enough to put things together.
||"This is Gotham. Someone always has eyes on you. You've just lucked out and had the good guys do it, instead of the bad ones,"|| Oracle explains. Babs cycles through her views, and she looks a little concerned at his posture. It makes her think he may be fairly young.
||"I have a small group of operatives and everyone of them needs to learn a little teamwork. I think it would benefit all of you to work together. One is even in the Justice League."|| Babs still can't believe Batwoman took the plunge into the JLA, but she's glad Gotham is being represented. They need the good press.
"Hate to say it, but you are already beat there. I have the most disproportionate hate to actual talent list of any vigilante....hero...don't know if any of those words really qualify." Dragnet isn't the sharing type, but no doubt if she has been looking at any incident that fits his modus operandi, he picks the littlest of little fish for a reason. When he gets scared, or bold, or just plain lucks into something ridiculous, somebody remembers him and for the foreseeable future the mooks look for the guy they can't see with the gas grenades and the occasional big gun. He doesn't move much from the posture, the voice modulation no doubt working overtime to conceal how tired he sounds. It wasn't really a choice. Become a hero, or live with guilt. Hit the bad guys before they realize what you have and try to hit you in your sleep to take it. "I'm not saying no, I just don't know if I really have anything to offer. Last time we chatted I didn't really do much, and all I really seemed to do was exasperate the De Capo of Crimefighting. I'm Z-list, and thats on my good days." When you get down to it, it is Batman's City. Its a similar structure, if slanted towards a more benevolent aim.
Babs toggles her comm off as she chuckles. Then she turns it back on. ||"Batman hates everyone. That's not on you. But the fact he's ok with you being in Gotham is a pretty big thing. As for Z-List, you're still alive, despite trying to fight bad guys in Gotham. That pretty much means you're not Z-List. And I can help. Training, gear, backup. Your stealth gear is some of the best I've seen, or rather not seen. The rest we can work on. I promise you, Robin didn't pop out of the womb vigilante-ready. Takes time and work."||
Dragnet actually manages a weak laugh at that. His shoulder rolls, his posture improves slightly. "Okay, you had me up until that last part. There has to be some kind of genetic predisposition programmed into all Boy Wonders. At the very least the confidence must be hereditary, because I would insist on some real pants." There is another breath as he taps thumbs together twiddling them idly. "I'll do what I can. Maybe that'll be enough. Just...keep the Batman to written missives and emails? I'm still working past my reflexive schoolgirl terror of his shadow falling anywhere in my immediate vicinity."
Babs grins and she enters Dragnet's new comm frequency into her database. ||"Deal. Believe me, if you don't wet your pants the first time you come face to face with the Bat, you need the guys with the jackets that tie in the back and the padded walls."|| She sets up a profile for him, and distributes info that he's part of the team to her other operatives. ||"Keep your comm at hand. I'll notify you when I or one of the Birds needs you. Welcome to the team, Dragnet. I'll be in touch. Oracle out."||
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