maskormenacelogs | i have no heart, just ice and stone

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i have no heart, just ice and stone

WHO:Shadow Oracle, Barbara Gordon, OTA
WHERE:Everywhere.
WHEN:The 20th to the 26th.
WHAT:Barbara's shadow self decides to solve some problems, in her own way.
WARNINGS:Violence, NPC deaths

She doesn't think of herself as Barbara, and most people won't recognise her as such, unless they're deeply familiar with the shape of her features. The rest of her is completely transformed. Her voice is similar, but there's an added reverberation to it, and an utter lack of warmth.

Sometimes, her face morphs into a mask; sometimes, she's carrying a sword that gleams with the same gold as her eyes, its hilt adorned with bat wings.

She fights with brutally efficient grace, a seamless blend of Batgirl and Oracle - except for any concern about collateral damage.

[Starters in the comments! If you want something specific, let me know.]

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She doesn't confine herself to one city; Oracle has the power of flight, and no need for rest. Still, she spends a large amount of time in De Chima, because she still thinks of the city as hers.

This does not extend to valuing the sanctity of an individual life, not measured against the city as a whole.

Her primary strategy in fighting the zombies is leading trusting civilians into danger, flying just enough ahead to bait the creatures with easy prey. Ideally, she acts in time to save them all, but if not, she sheds no tears over it.

The Ultra Beasts are different, of course; they can't be led that way, and their abilities vary too much for any single approach. She'll work with other imPorts to defeat them, and she's a competent, reliable ally - unless allowing her partner to be injured or killed is the best way to defeat a beast. It doesn't matter who they are to Barbara.

The zombies are a problem. A big problem. Like sure, there's a joke there he could be making about all of this, but really he just wants to blow them all up and be done with it. Especially right now when he's not being the Red Hood. No, he's just Jason Todd-Wayne, up and coming Rich Boy Import Entrepreneur. He's supposed to be acting like a civilian but he's itching to pull out the gun in his jacket and start firing.

He did not expect zombies to attack while he was doing an open-air meeting with a new potential native investor--a real Rich Boy with no business acumen to save his life--but they did and he had to run, because Jason Todd-Wayne can't fight zombies. A group of people were hiding out in a barricaded level of a parking garage and then here comes a cyberpunk fantasy girl come to life ready to lead them to a safer location?

He has no idea who she is, but something about her...something is too familiar but the familiarity is just a little bit out of reach.

"Are we sure this is the best route to take?" They're going to be in a very open space very soon. That would make them sitting ducks.

She recognises him, of course, but she doesn't let it show; she understands the importance of secret identities, even if she no longer needs one. She isn't surprised that he's the one who notices, and she has an explanation prepared.

"I scouted ahead and I didn't see anything in the immediate area." She lowers the pitch of her voice; if he recognises her, he'll just ask more questions, and she'd like to avoid the distraction. "It's the quickest route to shelter."

Only the second part is true, but there's no shift in her voice or stance. Barbara was already very good at lying; Oracle had perfected it.

There's something a little too inhuman about that voice and Jason isn't sure whether or not he trusts it, but the rest of the group seems to. His potential investor acquaintance has calmed down a lot since she arrived to "escort" them.

Jason stays on edge. She may think this is the best route, but he won't put anything past the zombies. They're only as predictable as they let you think they are.

"Which shelter is this?"

She may not be invested in the comfort of these people, but she knows the value of calming a crowd, and she remembers how to do it. Her appearance isn't the barrier it might be elsewhere; it just marks her as an imPort, someone with the power to make a difference.

"We fortified one of the hospitals." She says we, but it was the real Barbara who coordinated the effort. "This isn't a real outbreak yet, but I don't know how long that will last." Frustration seeps into the flat coolness of her voice; she remembers soaring through cyberspace, finding all the data she could possible want, but that capacity is limited here, without the same connections and back doors.

They're moving into the open space with little cover and too many routes that they could be attacked from. Sitting ducks the whole group of them. Something could come from anywhere.

"We?" That is not the kind of response he expected, but it feels like something that the curious and worried Jason Todd-Wayne can use to keep asking questions.

"Whose your partner? Or partners? There's so many superhero teams around I can't keep track of all of them."

She shrugs, and the human motion seems a little discordant. "I don't confine myself to teams. The natives aren't entirely helpless, either, particularly outside of combat situations."

She nods over her shoulder, at the group walking behind them. Some are silent in their terror, almost motionless outside of the march forward. Others, though, are checking for information on their phones, or sharing snacks and painkillers from purses and pockets. Several are armed - pipes, bricks, steak knives, even a rake - and they've formed the outer edge.

It wouldn't be nearly enough, if they were alone, and it still might not save them when they're attacked. But they're ready to try, and it does mean something to her. You can still respect a sacrifice.

"All I had to do was reach out to the hospital and send word out to help." It was one of the teaching hospitals; De Chima has several of them.

So the hospital set itself up as a safe space for it. It sounds reasonable, even if there's still something off about her. Thankfully these people may be scared but they aren't cowards. It makes it not so out of the ordinary that Jason Todd-Wayne decides take one of the sharp pointy broken pipes offered by someone else in the group.

He's about to ask her another question when he hears something and it's like much of the sound around them dies. People freeze, others look a bit jumpy, turning quickly, heads on a swivel. Jason's potential investor makes a very unflattering sound and Jason has to put a hand on his shoulder Because That's What Jason Todd-Wayne would do, as if he's trying to comfort him.

Something is coming. By the sounds of it, more than one something.

"We need to keep moving. Now."

That might not sound very Jason Todd-Wayne like but Jason is more worried about people not being zombie food.

Oracle stills, head cocking towards the sound. She can't let them outrun the zombies - and they could, really - but it's a difficult argument to make.

So she lets her mask manifest. Maybe he'll trust her despite the apparent holes in her logic.

"I don't think we can outrun them, with the distance we have left." The filter is gone, though her voice still doesn't sound quite right. "And once they catch up, most of you will be tired out."

Jason frowns when she says this, because he can tell they can get away if they move fast enough. They just need to right kind of...

But that voice. Jason definitely knows that voice. Something's wrong with it, but he recognizes Bab's voice anywhere. Is this Bab's power here? Becoming this "Oracle" (which Jason had heard of in a way, but he'd been dead and not long after he came back, she'd had the surgery).

"How about some of us be the distractions while the rest get away?" Jason sounds a little wary, but also hopeful. Like someone who maybe doesn't want that distraction to be him, but he'll do it if he needs to. Especially with the kids that are in the group.

She'll almost wish it was, when she's able to remember this.

Jason offers a decent compromise, so she nods, before facing the rest of the group. "Any volunteers?" Predictably, a couple of the scrappier teens raise their hands, but she shakes her head. "Adults only."

It's practical; generally speaking, adults have more strength, more skill, more experience. They'll make a better distraction. She's also aware that it's in-character for the woman Jason knows.

Nightwing's swinging from rooftop to rooftop himself when he sees her...and sees the civilians she's putting in danger. He doesn't recognize her immediately, just recognizes the situation. People are in danger. Whoever or whatever the flying blue person is doesn't register until he's landed between the civilians and the zombies, placing himself in danger to give them time to get away. He frowns and spares the flying being a glance, ready to tell them off, and then he catches a good look at her face.

He is deeply familiar with the shape of her features, and it trips him up.

"Babs?"

"Oracle." It's a curt correction, with barely a glance in his direction before she's slicing through the nearest zombie's limbs. It doesn't seem to bother her that they used to be a human being, or that living people are in the line of proverbial fire.

[ a hail of bullets, all terrifyingly precise despite the speed of the shots, downs the latest wave of zombies before oracle can get close enough to finish that step of the plan. another bullet whizzes just past her head, meant to get her attention.

the one who is all sits idly, legs dangling from a rooftop as she surveys the nearby streets. it's a very different look than the real cassandra would go for, but not so different that it's unrecognizable, even with how heavily armed she is. (cass certainly wouldn't be so cavalier with a pair of pistols in her grip.) her hair hangs down to the middle of her back, and the outfit is uncannily the sort of thing shiva was so fond of--a cheongsam top and black leather long coat. on the sleeve, the mark of cain stands out in stark white. ]

[ She doesn't start, or cry out. She just tenses, and frowns, but she checks to make sure every zombie is immobile before turning her head and staring up at -

not Cassandra.

It clearly perplexes her, but it's not the desperate worry of a mother. No, Batman has suddenly become an unknown quantity and that's never good.

She also still has a responsibility; thanks to the intervention, no one was lost, and she'd always intended to lead the survivors to a real shelter. Already, they're gathering around her.

One woman - a detective, though she'd been caught off duty - steps up and asks her - ] Are you working together?

[ Oracle keeps looking up. Her sword is still out. ] Are we?

[ she seems to consider that question for a moment, looking down curiously from that three-story building's rooftop. finally she raises her brow and gives her mother an enigmatic smile, holstering her guns. the woman drops from the roof, grabs a flagpole and effortlessly swings off of it to land on an awning above a door, before stepping off of it and landing on her feet. ]

For now, yes, I should think so. [ so long as it suits me being the clear subtext. her voice is smoother than it ought to be and the words come more quickly, that slightly raspy quality replaced with something silky and dangerous. she adjusts her black eyemask, idly inspecting the claws on one of her gloves. ]

Edited 2019-10-30 11:24 (UTC)

[ The detective frowns, and steps closer to Oracle. Several others shuffle closer, too; a bouncer, a bodyguard, a boxer.

None of them would have the slightest chance, if Cassandra turned on them, but Oracle doesn't usher them away.]

We're headed for shelter. [She raises a hand, and a holographic map appears, tracing their route to one of the teaching hospitals.]

Oracle visits the ruins several times, entering through different cities. She moves through them slowly, both cautious and curious; who knows what important secrets may be held here? Often, her features shift into her mask, and she stares at statues and machines as if memorising or recording them. Naturally, this backfires sometimes, and either the thing will come to life and try to kill her or she'll be attacked from behind. If someone saves her from this, she won't be effusive with her gratitude, but she'll certainly see them as an asset that she'd prefer not to lose.

[ an oddly shaped batarang and pale fist erupt from the monstrous statue's chest, growls gurgling from its throat until the light leaves its eyes and it falls to the ground. behind it? batman, only... not. ]

Barbara Gordon! As I live and breathe! I love what you've done with yourself. HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

[Her head cocks, as her brows furrow beneath the mask. She's not sickened or terrified, but she does step back, and her sword shimmers into her hand.]

My name is Oracle. Yours? [If this was the real Barbara, her brain would supply "Jokeman" and she'd have to suppress an appalled chuckle.]

Oracle! I love it. Nothing like a little cognitive dissonance to get you through a boring day. I'm hurt you don't recognize me, though.

[ he feigns shock, hand to his chest. his grin widens. ]

I'm Batman. Only now I'm the one who laughs.

[Distantly, she appreciates the irony; she remembers wanting Batman to laugh more.]

Does that mean you have no real objective, or has it just changed? [Either is dangerous, and needs to be dealt with. She has access to Barbara's communication network, but she doesn't call for backup. The Bats would be squeamish about it.]

How long were you waiting behind that statue? [There's something more in her voice now, at least; callous amusement.]

Edited 2019-10-28 01:21 (UTC)

Waiting? No, no, no, my dear Bar-- Oracle. [ he smiles. ]

I was watching. You know, I never trusted all of those gargoyles around Gotham. And how fortunate that I didn't! Otherwise you would be nothing but...

[ his lanky, pale hand waggles idly. ]

Scrap metal!

You underestimate my reflexes. [Gratitude? Nah.] Why did you want to save me?

I don't underestimate anything anymore, Oracle. Hahahaha...

[ his voice is lower. darker. his laugh menacing. and just like that? he's back! ]

But you're family! I wanted to know a little bit more about you! Whether we should work together or... if I just need to kill you myself! HAHAHAHAHA!

[Barbara has becoming slowly desensitised to that laugh, but hearing it in Bruce's voice would chill her to the bone. It doesn't affect Oracle at all.]

That depends on the objective. [She doubts it will align with hers, but if she can use him in the meantime...]

What, mine?

[ the smile never leaves, and he demurely sets his hand on his chest. ]

I only want to protect the world... from itself.

[Her head cocks again, because that is her mission in a nutshell.]

How do you intend to do this?

Edited 2019-10-28 01:58 (UTC)

No matter the cost.

[ and there's that low voice again. his smile sits in silence for an uncomfortably long time afterward. the only way to protect the world from themselves was to destroy everything. ]

[She agrees with that, in theory.]

I assume you're being vague on purpose.

[How long can she risk playing that kind of game with him?]

Of course! [ he throws out his arms. ] I don't know anything about you, my dear.

[ he creeps closer. ]

But I also know that you haven't said no yet.

[Barbara wouldn't have backed up, either, but she probably would have grimaced. Oracle remains unfazed.]

I prefer to know all of the facts before I make any decisions.

Oracle doesn't often smile; her expression is usually one of grim determination, sometimes weary annoyance. When she flies, though, soaring from one city to the next, the quiet joy of it is clear in her face. On the ground, tension never leaves her muscles; in the sky, it eases away until it's actually needed.

Occasionally, birds will rest in the tendrils of her hair, and she never moves to shake them off.

Edited 2019-10-28 02:52 (UTC)

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i have no heart, just ice and stone

De Chima

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Dwemer ruins

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The Skies