Post by lizity on Sept 8, 2011 19:10:46 GMT -5
Bruce sat aloe on the bed, legs sprawled before him. Much of his chest and shoulder were wrapped in heavy bandages, his arm hung in a sling. he was watching the street below, the lonely alley with flickering lights. The pavement was cracked and puddles of stagnated water from the rainy Gotham weather collected in them reflecting back the dim lights and illuminating the low lying dog that crept over the city.
He's asked Barbara and Helena to meet with him and it was on their arrival he waited impatiently, his fingers flipping a pen between them. Alfred had been by once or twice, left to go on various errands and see that Bruce was fed. He had not left Oracle's base of operations, Barbara emphasizing her doubts that moving him wouldn't further aggravate his wounds. Had it not been for her and the stern watchful eye of Alfred Bruce would have clambered out of bed and donned the costume despite the arm and gone to meet his contact. Bruce loathed the idea of having anyone do anything for him but under present circumstances he didn't have much of a choice.
There was a knock at the door and Bruce bid them to enter. The door opened and Helena slipped in, Barbara a step behind. He'd been de-masked during his recovery which also nettled him, but it was conveyed only through his dark eyes and thin lips. it had been necessary, though, and Bruce did trust Barabara. There was a lot of her father in her.
"Good. You're here." Bruce stated blandly as Helena came to sit at the foot of the bed and Barabara standing at the end. "Since I am confined to this chair I need you two to do some foot work."
He took the moment to regard their reactions; Helena's face was an unreadable mask and Oracle seemed to thumb at invisible lint on her sleeve.
"When we tracked down Punchinello, I left you to follow him, Helena. You were too one minded to be persuaded Vercetti was equally as important... So I followed Vercetti, followed him to a warehouse on the docks. He met with men dressed in robes, or monk's habits with deep hoods. They performed a ritual -" He paused and took a deep breath he wasn't sure how they would respond to this next part.
"They summoned the image of smoke. A man, just his head. I didn't recognize him. He told them to locate a man named Giovanni Zatara. They called him The Mage. Whatever we're dealing with, seems to be... Occult magic."
Bruce had never been what one would call a believer but has an astute observer and he had seen nothing technological to project the image they had. And even if there was, why the elaborate ritual?
"I know a man. Jason Blood. He's the curator of the Gotham City Museum and Historical Society. From what I know of his reputation he's supposed to be an expert on this kind of thing. Go there. Ask him what he knows of this Giovanni Zatara. The cult, ask him about the cult. They called it Chosen of Trigon. Trigon is some sort of reference to giant devils of Norse Mythology, but I've been able to turn up nothing."
He reached between his legs and picked up a small box, tossing it to Helena.
"Contacts. They'll let me see and hear everything you see and hear. I need to be there when you question him and this is the only option we have presently. If Blood isn't forthcoming with the information I need then persuade him, Helena." Bruce glanced to Barbara, this was n't her fight, he had already brought too much trouble to her doorstep.
"Barbara I've dumped too much trouble into your lap already, this isn't your fight. Maybe you should sit this one out"
~~
She would have much rather preferred to stay with him but upon waking up he’d been grumpy as hell at the fact that they’d taken his cowl off so Barbara could work on him. Helena took the blame for that though, there was already a long list of things for him to be angry at her with, adding one more wasn’t going to break the bank one way or another. At least he was angry at her and wasn’t dead, that counted for something.
Once she’d left Barbara’s she’d gone back to the mansion to shower and change clothes into some that had mysteriously shown up at the house. She had no doubt that Alfred had a hand in it. Having a little while to herself had actually felt good as much as she wanted to sit with Bruce and make sure he was alright. She needed the quiet time to sit in the shower and break down without people watching her and she was breaking down, bit by bit, hiding it behind the calm, cold mask that she so often wore as Huntress. She’d just put a bolt through the heart of a man that just twenty four hours before she’d been engaged too and then called it off. On top of it still she’d realized that she was still in love with Bruce. She felt conflicted about everything, she wanted to morn even if Travis hadn’t turned out to be the man that she’d thought he was.
Once she’d dressed again and pulled herself back together she’d taken the bag that Alfred had packed for Bruce back to him at Barbara along with another back full of equipment that he’d sent her to pick up.
When she came into the room she sat down at the foot of the bed and watched him carefully behind blank eyes that mirrored him. He was closing himself off too. Sometimes it was just easier to deal with things that way. She understood that completely. This was business and business she could handle and focus on.
“Am I going as Huntress or Helena?” She looked over at the red headed teenager. “Do you think you can to some digging and find out information on this Zatara. Location, back history, anything we can use to find out where he is so we can get to him first.”
~~
Helena had put in the contacts at Barbara’s before heading out. She’d taken one of Bruce’s less conspicuous cars across town to the museum. She hadn’t been to the place since she’d been a kid before life had turned upside down. Walking up the steps she couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself. She remembered how huge the front entry had seemed as a seven year old, as an adult it didn’t seem like such. It felt good to at least have something small to laugh about even if it was only momentarily.
Once inside she stopped at the front desk, asking for Jason Blood. Did she have an appointment? No but they called back for her and asked if he was available. When he said that he’d be out shortly she thanked the guards and stepped away from the desk to mill around, looking at the displays in the massive entry way.
She watched the employee doors, watching for what she figured would be an old man. When a younger man came out she looked somewhat surprised when the security staff pointed him over to her. She faced him as he walked over to her and offered her hand as he approached.
“Mr. Blood?”
~~
While not a wizened white-haired man, he had a few peppers within his hair. It was clear he was somewhere middle-aged. Perhaps forty years old, but he was well taken care of, and looked wise enough for the confidence in his step. The cane he carried with him served well to further provide some semblance of authenticity, the polished black capped with a dragon's head in silver. His outfit was simple, a suit, but was cut well to his frame. Stopping as he approached the front, he gave her a polite nod.
"Ma'am," he greeted, and gave a nod to the front desk before gesturing forward for them to walk while they discussed. "I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you don't mind, let's talk during a walk."
Smiling pleasantly enough, he clearly had no gait that required the cane; purely cosmetic, perhaps. "Now, what was it you wanted? Some kind of special event? Interview on the Centurion exhibit later this month?"
Simple enough questions, he clearly anticipated whatever the lovely woman who greeted him brought to him would be somewhere within the realm of the mundane, and had little reason to ever suspect otherwise. Nothing seemed to trouble him, by his features and he was open and welcoming of the theoretical interview on some asinine topic that was surely going to follow.
Welcoming, but as he moved briskly, clearly impatient.
~~
“I hope I won’t take up to much of your time today Mr. Blood. I was told by an acquaintance of mine that you might have information regarding something I’m researching.” It was true, even if it was worded a bit… interestingly for the situation but her smile was pretty and easy to hide behind. She was dressed in gray slacks and a black soft sweater that threatened to fall off one shoulder. Her make up was done artfully well and she seemed the socialite he mistook her for.
She walked along at his side, waiting until they were out of ear shot of anyone else around. With school back in session the museum was somewhat empty for the moment. That was good though, people didn’t need to hear what she was about to ask him.
“This is a private research of mine, nothing that will be published. I’ve been investigating a cult that’s been showing up lately here and there. I was told that you might have some information on them. They’re called the Cult of Trigon.” She looked over at him, blue eyes studying his face intently, her hair hiding the ear piece in her ear that Bruce was using to both talk to her and listen into the convercation.
~~
She was dressed in a way that made her look like a rich, entitled girl who felt she was able to get personal interviews with anyone just by smiling prettily and hoping for the best; it was probably true, he admitted, because she was also not one to take no for an answer. Admittedly, here he was, answering her questions, so he saw to it that she did a fair job of it and looked genuine and pretty in the doing.
"Well, I'm not necessarily a specialist in every regard here," I applied to her helpfully as she started to mention a friend's reference. "I am technically an administrator, not a historical researcher, and have more of a classical cultural anthropology background..."
She let there be empty moments, and so he filled them, as she walked at his side while waiting for the disappearance of the general public from earshot. Of course, he had no idea what her silence was for initially; that was something he would catch on to quickly.
Her words startled him, but he almost played it off, missing a beat as his face was trained back into its calm.
"The Cult of Trigon? Not likely. They haven't existed even in lore since the dawn of high medieval era. They were, reputedly, some sort of ... satanists or the such. Some say the Templars were formed to dispatch them, before the order was formally recognized by the Church for the purposes of the First Crusade and onward."
He was all smiles, but there was something clearly withheld. "I suppose I can see if I can find some reference material, but they're little-substantiated legends. Mostly apocrypha about Church historical records and the like; the same sort of excesses are discussed in terms of defeating giant red dragons and divinely powered boars, so I'm not entirely sure how much relevance you'll find for your research paper."
~~
She was used to getting what she wanted but generally that came out of hard work and determination and not so much by her looks though she had no doubt that her looks got her through the door on more than on occasion. She wasn’t stupid when it came to that nor over the fact that wearing low cut shirts tended to distract. Whatever worked in desperate situations.
Watching his reaction she nodded slightly. It either took him off guard or scared the shit out of him. Frankly after the ritual that Bruce had told her about in greater detail after Barbara had gone to work on the computers about finding Zatara had her scared shitless too. Fighting criminals was one thing, this was something else completely different and wrapped up in the whole mess that she’d come here to take care of in a roundabout kind of way.
“I was told by a certain nocturnal flying rodent that you would know about this cult in question.” She hoped that might loosen his tongue. “He’s currently working on some things and wasn’t able to come himself. I’m acting as his eyes and ears for the moment. He needs this information. What are their goals? What were they back during the Crusades? If some of them do still exist today what can he look for. Also, we’ve heard reference to something they could be looking for called ‘the mage’, a man named Giovanni Zatara.” She lowered her voice as someone walked behind them and stepped closer to him. “This is important Mr. Blood. If you’re holding anything back that could help him…”
~~
She pushes forward, despite his assurances the Cult was long gone - an assurance he felt very righteous in making, considering their deaths were in some part on his own hand. He wore a cross on the front of his armor; it was a better pay to give lipservice to the Church, at the time, and more ... he hoped the Church might actually be able to remove the curse.
A hundred years later, when some found his secret, their interest was very far from curing him. Blood and pieces remained where once noble warriors to a corrupt regime stood before.
He focused his mind out of that as she began on her point of why he should help her, and provide valuable information. Her point, however, was lost on him.
"Nocturnal... flying rodent? Is that a code of some kind?" he asked, confused, narrowing his eyes in the process. Not in a glare; in a look of utter bafflement. The man clearly looked down and stroked his chin, as he tried to think of what it could mean, or who she could be referring to, before it clicked. "You're working for Batman? Why would I... I don't know him. As far as I know, he's just a fetishistic lunatic in bondage leathers. How would I know him? I work in a history museum, ma'am."
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued forward, away from his sudden stop in that moment of confusion. "They wanted a mortal host for the body of Trigon so he might walk the Earth again. They were killed to a man by these formative Templars. That is all I know," he lied. "I can show you the records if you don't believe me, if they can be found. Where do I send them to? The Batcave, Care Of ... your name was again?"
His nice demeanor had, for some reason, become markedly more sour. The memories she dredged, and their implications, did little to put him in a peaceable mood.
~~
She had a look of irritation growing on her face though it wasn’t exactly pointed at him, more at Bruce for information that wasn’t exactly wrong but misleading. If he hadn’t been hurt she would have gone back to smack him upside the head. She stopped walking and touched his arm lightly so that he’d hopefully stop.
“You may think that he’s some lunatic in leather but he’s more than that and he seems to think that you’ll have the information that he needs to stop his cult from gaining any kind of foot hold again. You may not believe that they’re back again but they are and…” She stopped herself and looked away from him, taking a deep breath.
“My name isn’t important.” If he watched the news often enough she might have looked familiar. Her name and face had been plastered all over the television for the last two weeks after she’d gone missing when a mob hid had been found busted in her apartment.
“So if a group is trying to bring this cult back then they might think that this Zatara fellow could be a host body?”
~~
She touched his arm, and it stopped him. He calmed and listened. Turning to listen to her, he crossed his arms, a posture which clearly showcased his disinterest in furthering the topic, however, he still permitted her to speak her mind and listened through it.
Finally, she stopped with her explanation and questions, and so he finally offered his own in turn. Already he knew what he had to do and at this point she was doing little more than slowing him down. "I'm just an administrator for a museum. I don't know what this ... copycat cult might think they need for whatever imaginary hocus-pocus they've managed to concoct as their ritual. Madmen might justify anything. So, yes, maybe this Zatara is in danger. Maybe you are. Maybe your psychopathic associate. I have no idea. Maybe I have not made it clear, ma'am, but I am just the curator for a museum."
Gesturing back the way they came, he invited her to leave. "If that's all, Miss Anonymous Research Assistant, I've quite a bit of work to get to and the last thing I need is to offer up theoretical answers for questions that have basis in myth and fantasy. Whatever you and your boyfriend wish to do with what I've already offered, do keep me out of it. I'd rather not have it weigh on my conscience that information I've given you could lead to ... reckless behavior. Good day."
Turning, he would pull his arm or try to, then proceed down the hall the way he was going.
~~
“Then I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” She said politely with a small smile before turning to walk away in the opposite direction as him.
The contacts and company had given her a splitting headache and Bruce’s current silence in her ear was irritating her all the more. There wasn’t anything they could do about it. She knew the man was holding something back but short of what? Tying him up and beating it out of him? Yeah, that seemed like the thing to do.
“I hope you have a plan b because plan a isn’t panning out unless you have another bright idea.” She muttered under her breath, flashing the security guards a smile on her way out the door to pick up the car and get back to see what Barbara had come up with.
He's asked Barbara and Helena to meet with him and it was on their arrival he waited impatiently, his fingers flipping a pen between them. Alfred had been by once or twice, left to go on various errands and see that Bruce was fed. He had not left Oracle's base of operations, Barbara emphasizing her doubts that moving him wouldn't further aggravate his wounds. Had it not been for her and the stern watchful eye of Alfred Bruce would have clambered out of bed and donned the costume despite the arm and gone to meet his contact. Bruce loathed the idea of having anyone do anything for him but under present circumstances he didn't have much of a choice.
There was a knock at the door and Bruce bid them to enter. The door opened and Helena slipped in, Barbara a step behind. He'd been de-masked during his recovery which also nettled him, but it was conveyed only through his dark eyes and thin lips. it had been necessary, though, and Bruce did trust Barabara. There was a lot of her father in her.
"Good. You're here." Bruce stated blandly as Helena came to sit at the foot of the bed and Barabara standing at the end. "Since I am confined to this chair I need you two to do some foot work."
He took the moment to regard their reactions; Helena's face was an unreadable mask and Oracle seemed to thumb at invisible lint on her sleeve.
"When we tracked down Punchinello, I left you to follow him, Helena. You were too one minded to be persuaded Vercetti was equally as important... So I followed Vercetti, followed him to a warehouse on the docks. He met with men dressed in robes, or monk's habits with deep hoods. They performed a ritual -" He paused and took a deep breath he wasn't sure how they would respond to this next part.
"They summoned the image of smoke. A man, just his head. I didn't recognize him. He told them to locate a man named Giovanni Zatara. They called him The Mage. Whatever we're dealing with, seems to be... Occult magic."
Bruce had never been what one would call a believer but has an astute observer and he had seen nothing technological to project the image they had. And even if there was, why the elaborate ritual?
"I know a man. Jason Blood. He's the curator of the Gotham City Museum and Historical Society. From what I know of his reputation he's supposed to be an expert on this kind of thing. Go there. Ask him what he knows of this Giovanni Zatara. The cult, ask him about the cult. They called it Chosen of Trigon. Trigon is some sort of reference to giant devils of Norse Mythology, but I've been able to turn up nothing."
He reached between his legs and picked up a small box, tossing it to Helena.
"Contacts. They'll let me see and hear everything you see and hear. I need to be there when you question him and this is the only option we have presently. If Blood isn't forthcoming with the information I need then persuade him, Helena." Bruce glanced to Barbara, this was n't her fight, he had already brought too much trouble to her doorstep.
"Barbara I've dumped too much trouble into your lap already, this isn't your fight. Maybe you should sit this one out"
~~
She would have much rather preferred to stay with him but upon waking up he’d been grumpy as hell at the fact that they’d taken his cowl off so Barbara could work on him. Helena took the blame for that though, there was already a long list of things for him to be angry at her with, adding one more wasn’t going to break the bank one way or another. At least he was angry at her and wasn’t dead, that counted for something.
Once she’d left Barbara’s she’d gone back to the mansion to shower and change clothes into some that had mysteriously shown up at the house. She had no doubt that Alfred had a hand in it. Having a little while to herself had actually felt good as much as she wanted to sit with Bruce and make sure he was alright. She needed the quiet time to sit in the shower and break down without people watching her and she was breaking down, bit by bit, hiding it behind the calm, cold mask that she so often wore as Huntress. She’d just put a bolt through the heart of a man that just twenty four hours before she’d been engaged too and then called it off. On top of it still she’d realized that she was still in love with Bruce. She felt conflicted about everything, she wanted to morn even if Travis hadn’t turned out to be the man that she’d thought he was.
Once she’d dressed again and pulled herself back together she’d taken the bag that Alfred had packed for Bruce back to him at Barbara along with another back full of equipment that he’d sent her to pick up.
When she came into the room she sat down at the foot of the bed and watched him carefully behind blank eyes that mirrored him. He was closing himself off too. Sometimes it was just easier to deal with things that way. She understood that completely. This was business and business she could handle and focus on.
“Am I going as Huntress or Helena?” She looked over at the red headed teenager. “Do you think you can to some digging and find out information on this Zatara. Location, back history, anything we can use to find out where he is so we can get to him first.”
~~
Helena had put in the contacts at Barbara’s before heading out. She’d taken one of Bruce’s less conspicuous cars across town to the museum. She hadn’t been to the place since she’d been a kid before life had turned upside down. Walking up the steps she couldn’t help but laugh softly to herself. She remembered how huge the front entry had seemed as a seven year old, as an adult it didn’t seem like such. It felt good to at least have something small to laugh about even if it was only momentarily.
Once inside she stopped at the front desk, asking for Jason Blood. Did she have an appointment? No but they called back for her and asked if he was available. When he said that he’d be out shortly she thanked the guards and stepped away from the desk to mill around, looking at the displays in the massive entry way.
She watched the employee doors, watching for what she figured would be an old man. When a younger man came out she looked somewhat surprised when the security staff pointed him over to her. She faced him as he walked over to her and offered her hand as he approached.
“Mr. Blood?”
~~
While not a wizened white-haired man, he had a few peppers within his hair. It was clear he was somewhere middle-aged. Perhaps forty years old, but he was well taken care of, and looked wise enough for the confidence in his step. The cane he carried with him served well to further provide some semblance of authenticity, the polished black capped with a dragon's head in silver. His outfit was simple, a suit, but was cut well to his frame. Stopping as he approached the front, he gave her a polite nod.
"Ma'am," he greeted, and gave a nod to the front desk before gesturing forward for them to walk while they discussed. "I'm on a tight schedule here, so if you don't mind, let's talk during a walk."
Smiling pleasantly enough, he clearly had no gait that required the cane; purely cosmetic, perhaps. "Now, what was it you wanted? Some kind of special event? Interview on the Centurion exhibit later this month?"
Simple enough questions, he clearly anticipated whatever the lovely woman who greeted him brought to him would be somewhere within the realm of the mundane, and had little reason to ever suspect otherwise. Nothing seemed to trouble him, by his features and he was open and welcoming of the theoretical interview on some asinine topic that was surely going to follow.
Welcoming, but as he moved briskly, clearly impatient.
~~
“I hope I won’t take up to much of your time today Mr. Blood. I was told by an acquaintance of mine that you might have information regarding something I’m researching.” It was true, even if it was worded a bit… interestingly for the situation but her smile was pretty and easy to hide behind. She was dressed in gray slacks and a black soft sweater that threatened to fall off one shoulder. Her make up was done artfully well and she seemed the socialite he mistook her for.
She walked along at his side, waiting until they were out of ear shot of anyone else around. With school back in session the museum was somewhat empty for the moment. That was good though, people didn’t need to hear what she was about to ask him.
“This is a private research of mine, nothing that will be published. I’ve been investigating a cult that’s been showing up lately here and there. I was told that you might have some information on them. They’re called the Cult of Trigon.” She looked over at him, blue eyes studying his face intently, her hair hiding the ear piece in her ear that Bruce was using to both talk to her and listen into the convercation.
~~
She was dressed in a way that made her look like a rich, entitled girl who felt she was able to get personal interviews with anyone just by smiling prettily and hoping for the best; it was probably true, he admitted, because she was also not one to take no for an answer. Admittedly, here he was, answering her questions, so he saw to it that she did a fair job of it and looked genuine and pretty in the doing.
"Well, I'm not necessarily a specialist in every regard here," I applied to her helpfully as she started to mention a friend's reference. "I am technically an administrator, not a historical researcher, and have more of a classical cultural anthropology background..."
She let there be empty moments, and so he filled them, as she walked at his side while waiting for the disappearance of the general public from earshot. Of course, he had no idea what her silence was for initially; that was something he would catch on to quickly.
Her words startled him, but he almost played it off, missing a beat as his face was trained back into its calm.
"The Cult of Trigon? Not likely. They haven't existed even in lore since the dawn of high medieval era. They were, reputedly, some sort of ... satanists or the such. Some say the Templars were formed to dispatch them, before the order was formally recognized by the Church for the purposes of the First Crusade and onward."
He was all smiles, but there was something clearly withheld. "I suppose I can see if I can find some reference material, but they're little-substantiated legends. Mostly apocrypha about Church historical records and the like; the same sort of excesses are discussed in terms of defeating giant red dragons and divinely powered boars, so I'm not entirely sure how much relevance you'll find for your research paper."
~~
She was used to getting what she wanted but generally that came out of hard work and determination and not so much by her looks though she had no doubt that her looks got her through the door on more than on occasion. She wasn’t stupid when it came to that nor over the fact that wearing low cut shirts tended to distract. Whatever worked in desperate situations.
Watching his reaction she nodded slightly. It either took him off guard or scared the shit out of him. Frankly after the ritual that Bruce had told her about in greater detail after Barbara had gone to work on the computers about finding Zatara had her scared shitless too. Fighting criminals was one thing, this was something else completely different and wrapped up in the whole mess that she’d come here to take care of in a roundabout kind of way.
“I was told by a certain nocturnal flying rodent that you would know about this cult in question.” She hoped that might loosen his tongue. “He’s currently working on some things and wasn’t able to come himself. I’m acting as his eyes and ears for the moment. He needs this information. What are their goals? What were they back during the Crusades? If some of them do still exist today what can he look for. Also, we’ve heard reference to something they could be looking for called ‘the mage’, a man named Giovanni Zatara.” She lowered her voice as someone walked behind them and stepped closer to him. “This is important Mr. Blood. If you’re holding anything back that could help him…”
~~
She pushes forward, despite his assurances the Cult was long gone - an assurance he felt very righteous in making, considering their deaths were in some part on his own hand. He wore a cross on the front of his armor; it was a better pay to give lipservice to the Church, at the time, and more ... he hoped the Church might actually be able to remove the curse.
A hundred years later, when some found his secret, their interest was very far from curing him. Blood and pieces remained where once noble warriors to a corrupt regime stood before.
He focused his mind out of that as she began on her point of why he should help her, and provide valuable information. Her point, however, was lost on him.
"Nocturnal... flying rodent? Is that a code of some kind?" he asked, confused, narrowing his eyes in the process. Not in a glare; in a look of utter bafflement. The man clearly looked down and stroked his chin, as he tried to think of what it could mean, or who she could be referring to, before it clicked. "You're working for Batman? Why would I... I don't know him. As far as I know, he's just a fetishistic lunatic in bondage leathers. How would I know him? I work in a history museum, ma'am."
Shrugging his shoulders, he continued forward, away from his sudden stop in that moment of confusion. "They wanted a mortal host for the body of Trigon so he might walk the Earth again. They were killed to a man by these formative Templars. That is all I know," he lied. "I can show you the records if you don't believe me, if they can be found. Where do I send them to? The Batcave, Care Of ... your name was again?"
His nice demeanor had, for some reason, become markedly more sour. The memories she dredged, and their implications, did little to put him in a peaceable mood.
~~
She had a look of irritation growing on her face though it wasn’t exactly pointed at him, more at Bruce for information that wasn’t exactly wrong but misleading. If he hadn’t been hurt she would have gone back to smack him upside the head. She stopped walking and touched his arm lightly so that he’d hopefully stop.
“You may think that he’s some lunatic in leather but he’s more than that and he seems to think that you’ll have the information that he needs to stop his cult from gaining any kind of foot hold again. You may not believe that they’re back again but they are and…” She stopped herself and looked away from him, taking a deep breath.
“My name isn’t important.” If he watched the news often enough she might have looked familiar. Her name and face had been plastered all over the television for the last two weeks after she’d gone missing when a mob hid had been found busted in her apartment.
“So if a group is trying to bring this cult back then they might think that this Zatara fellow could be a host body?”
~~
She touched his arm, and it stopped him. He calmed and listened. Turning to listen to her, he crossed his arms, a posture which clearly showcased his disinterest in furthering the topic, however, he still permitted her to speak her mind and listened through it.
Finally, she stopped with her explanation and questions, and so he finally offered his own in turn. Already he knew what he had to do and at this point she was doing little more than slowing him down. "I'm just an administrator for a museum. I don't know what this ... copycat cult might think they need for whatever imaginary hocus-pocus they've managed to concoct as their ritual. Madmen might justify anything. So, yes, maybe this Zatara is in danger. Maybe you are. Maybe your psychopathic associate. I have no idea. Maybe I have not made it clear, ma'am, but I am just the curator for a museum."
Gesturing back the way they came, he invited her to leave. "If that's all, Miss Anonymous Research Assistant, I've quite a bit of work to get to and the last thing I need is to offer up theoretical answers for questions that have basis in myth and fantasy. Whatever you and your boyfriend wish to do with what I've already offered, do keep me out of it. I'd rather not have it weigh on my conscience that information I've given you could lead to ... reckless behavior. Good day."
Turning, he would pull his arm or try to, then proceed down the hall the way he was going.
~~
“Then I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” She said politely with a small smile before turning to walk away in the opposite direction as him.
The contacts and company had given her a splitting headache and Bruce’s current silence in her ear was irritating her all the more. There wasn’t anything they could do about it. She knew the man was holding something back but short of what? Tying him up and beating it out of him? Yeah, that seemed like the thing to do.
“I hope you have a plan b because plan a isn’t panning out unless you have another bright idea.” She muttered under her breath, flashing the security guards a smile on her way out the door to pick up the car and get back to see what Barbara had come up with.