batmanschmatman | 074 [voice]

[Private to Tim]

[Dick sounds upset, or angry, but really mostly just a lot like Bruce, actually, mostly because he's panicking but trying to hide it. The fight's over, and he knows the threats were just Flagg trying to throw them off, but he just needs to be sure.]

Check in. Now.

[Warden Filter + anyone who's said publicly that they're helping Group 3.]

[You guys aren't getting a video post because too many people knowing what the interior of the Barge looks like doesn't sit well with Dick, but you can probably hear Capa and John being sciencey hackers in the background if you listen really hard. After god knows how long, they've made it to the bridge and are mostly in one piece, although they're pretty battered, exhausted and out of supplies, so they're all pretty ready for this to be over.]

We made it. Flagg's off the bridge, but the systems are a mess. Capa and John are working on it now, but we need the Admiral back. Has anyone found anything yet? [Mumbled:] I'm not even sure how long we've been gone for.

I'd appreciate a sound off on who's alright, too.

[ooc: Everything won't go back to normal until the Admiral is found and reinstalled on the Bridge, so feel free to continue freaking out as usual until that plot wraps up/the mods say everything's back to normal. Anyone who wants to check in with Capa or John specifically can use this post to do it, just remember they're in somewhat close quarters, so your conversation might be overheard.

Anddddd if John and Capa want to spam in, go for it guys. c:]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Okay. Just let us know if you start feeling any worse. Collapsing on the floor isn't dignified or fun." He carefully pushed himself up, grimacing a little as he did so. He was pretty sure when he did take off his suit, he'd find the kevlar plates in suit had stamped bruises onto his back, ribs, side and chest, not to mention any other number of irritating injuries. He was beat.

He offered a hand to Capa to help the other warden up before glancing back at John briefly.

"Anything I can do?"

Capa accepted the hand and stumbled back over to the control panel he had been at before. It wasn't going to do him much good, but he had to try. It just blinked at him, mockingly, as if saying that he wasn't going to ever understand it. Capa wasn't good with different computer systems. He knew the ones he used. But this was not at all what he expected.

"You might as well let him do something," he told John gently. "The stinging of that disinfectant will give you a bit of a jolt." It woke him up for a while, as he could still feel it in his head.

It's almost funny, so the look he gives Capa is one with a shallow flicker of a smile. Yep.

John starts to pull off his flack jacket so that Dick can get a look at where he'd gotten a chunk of his arm gored hours prior; it's stopped bleeding, but he'd lost a lot before it did. He gets stuck halfway, the muscles in his torso protesting enough for him to stop. He glances at Dick.

Honestly, making the post and doing this was what was keeping Dick alert and focused right now. He could probably cling to the thought of getting out of here and getting to Tim, and figuring out what the hell had happened to Jim and Arthur and everyone else if he had to, but this was easier.

Dick just frowned and walked over to John, carefully easing the jacket off and wincing in sympathy when he got a look at the injury. "Damn. Couldn't have said anything earlier?" It's a weak joke. They'd barely had time to eat or drink, let alone stop to properly tend to injuries.

"It didn't fall off," what, his arm? "Figured I was okay."

He grimaces as they get the jacket off, and his shirt underneath is at least more or less intact, though the left arm is more or less soaked through with blood, the upper part lacerated and exposing congealed damage. "Tissue damage, could be worse."

"Martha or McCoy can fix it," he agrees, getting out more disinfectant and carefully starting to clean the injury. He was careful not to reopen it, just trying to clean it up before carefully bandaging it. "Anything else?" He knew John was worn out, but he wasn't sure if that was just because they'd been through hell or if he was actually hurting pretty badly and trying to hide it.

"Probably." He gives Dick a wry look. Yeah, he's seriously banged up, but he knows there's nothing in any medkit that'll do fuckall for his heart, so it's best to just sit quietly and deal with it versus stress out or risk someone poking at him and doing more damage. "You don't look newly minted either, by the way."

Two can play this game, Grayson.

The vigilante just smiled wanly. "I'm alright." Best he could figure, at worst he'd bruised a couple ribs pretty badly. There wasn't much a medkit could do for that, either. The biggest issue was exhaustion, really. He could feel it nagging at the edges of his consciousness, and he knew as soon as he was sure Tim was alright, he was finding somewhere to just pass the fuck out for a few hours.

"I don't want to fuss, but I'm not sure how long we're gonna be stuck here, and I'll be pretty upset if one of you keels over on me after we got this far."

"Well I'm not sharing any anecdotes unless this thing gets any ideas."

John's still feeling anxious underneath; he wants to know that Sarah is okay. But prioritizing her would waste time, and he needs to get back to trying to see if they can sort any of this shit out. He looks over at Capa. "Still with us?"

It wasn't until he was addressed that Capa realized he hadn't actually moved since Dick had gone to treat John. He jerked slightly, as if he had been dozing, though he was wide awake, and his hands slipped off the control panel. He almost fell forward, but caught himself, shaking his head.

"Hmm, yeah. I am. Why...what..." He trailed off slightly. "I'm alright."

"Uh-huh," Dick said lightly, trying to sound like he wasn't concerned, like nothing that had happened here was bothering him at all, like he wasn't sore all over and about ready to curl up on the floor and fall asleep. Being team cheerleader was something he was used to, and a role he fell into easily.

"We should... I don't know. Play a game or something, give us something to focus on that isn't running for our lives or thinking about putting a fist through one of the computer banks."

074 [voice]

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