realityshifted | (no subject)

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dcu (d1) barbara gordon/the oracle

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[Barbara appears near the library with an expression of cool determination; her voice is steadily aloof as she calls out] Brax? If you're here, I'd like a word.

[with that, she approaches the shelves]

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[Braxiatel steps out around a bookshelf, as immaculate as ever, though he has clearly been dressing for cold weather. He offers her a smile.] Barbara. As good to see you as ever.

[returns it, wan and weary] And you. Sorry if I ruin your day with this.

[His smile becomes a bit more wry] Oh, I've had my good mood ready for standby mode ever since these fights started.

[her voice echoes the bitter irony in her eyes] Glad to hear it. I'm next.

[she settles back in her chair, folding her hands on her lap] I have knockout gas, for him. For me...well, I don't keep poison in storage, and I can't get to any right now. Unless you have any better suggestions.

[Braxiatel is silent for a moment, his expression falling back into cold distance.]

Is that a request?

It is. [in contrast, Barbara lets her own shields fall, just for a brief moment; lets him see the passionate desperation] They want me to kill Merlin, Brax.

[It has been so much harder to remember what emotions aliens want of him lately. He stays distant, because that is what he is: practical, precise, untouchable. And he can never find the right way to be sympathetic, and it would be such an insult to Barbara to try to think of the correct response.]

Well. We can't allow that, can we? I have some orally-ingested fast-acting poisons. It wouldn't even take a minute.

[fortunately, it's a demeanour she's accustomed too, one that even puts her, somewhat, at ease

she smiles, just slightly, grateful and relieved] No, we can't. Thank you, Brax.

Oh, I can't bear to be thanked over something like this. I'll have to make a quick hop back to the Collection, but Benny won't mind. Can you wait here an hour or two? It's not easy to tell what the time difference between here and home will be.

[casually straightforward, as if she's discussing something blithely self-evident] You're helping me save a child and make my death an easy one. [she nods, then] And I can always wait in a library.

[seriously] I am also helping a friend die. [It is neither the first nor the last time, and though he doesn't show the number in pain, for one moment he's the old immortal instead of the mysterious art collector, and all his years are there to be seen.] I'll be as quick as I can.

[she recognises the weariness of grief, the burden of choice, magnified by centuries; instead of reaching out to him, she merely nods silent understanding] I know.

Good. [He disappears, only returning several hours later. His left hand is closed, curled around something. He holds out to her a tiny pill.] A drop of gall. If you'll forgive my tendency towards the melodramatic.

[Barbara had a pile of book on her lap, and set down the one she was flipping through immediately when he appeared again

his words draw a low, absurd laugh from her lips] I'm from Gotham. We run on melodrama. [and she holds out her hand, and accepts]

[He lingers on that thought, that gesture.] Can I hold you to the promise of tea? Afterwards. Or I could do something else. It was whisky for Oliver and cognac for Bernice.

[she smiles, then] Tea sounds good. Something to look forward to. If... [if she does come back; everyone has, so far, but she's never been one to take anything for granted]

If not, it won't be to you to worry about it, so let's say 'when.' And I think this is a prime opportunity to try to push one of my own blends of tea on you.

True, and I'd love to try. Still... [Barbara sets the small bottle on an arm rest, and lifts that small pile of books; underneath is a stack of papers] Just in case, I wanted to give you this now. If you'd like it.

[the top page is mostly blank, save for the title - Records of No Man's Land - and an oracle's mask in the center of the page] Copies of the files I've been keeping.

[He takes them carefully.] It would be against my nature to turn down knowledge.

Just don't go spreading it around.

[he offers her one of his best mysterious smiles] I am discretion itself, Ms Gordon.

[matches is perfectly] Good.

[He considers sentiment for a moment, but he isn't sure he has the energy for such gestures. Not after... everything. But he can make offers.] I can stay for a while, if you like. Of course I'll attend the fight.

...I haven't been. [shakes her head] Not something I want to remember forever.

Edited 2010-07-25 03:38 (UTC)

You don't have an eidetic memory, do you?

[slight nod] I do. Comes in handy, let me tell you, but sometimes...

Of course. There are always things we'd much rather forget.

[dry, distant smile] It makes desensitization harder, too.

Does it really? I'd have thought the reverse.

[quietly] When you can still see the reason you're afraid right in front of you, clear as day...

You could always turn yourself numb to it. Stop feeling anything for any image, old or new.

If you do that, you forget what you're fighting for.

Such as young wizards who have yet to fulfil their destinies.

[tilts her head] He's really the Merlin, then? I wondered.

He's a very powerful wizard in the service of Prince Arthur, son of King Uther, and he lives in a place called Camelot. It doesn't quite line up with the legend, but in my experience, legends never quite match up with reality.

[Of course, in his universe, he happens to be related to Merlin.]

Add in various realities, and I'd call it a sure bet. I'll definitely need to use the gas as soon as possible, then.

[Barbara would not actually be shocked by this.]

Yes, I've found the variations in history very interesting. [He runs a thumb over the edge of the file he has been given.] I'm sure you won't let yourself be stopped.

I very rarely do.

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