multiversallogs | But all the reasons I gave...

Entry tags:

But all the reasons I gave...

Who: Steph and Wolfgang
What: Explanations
Where: Badside.
When: Backdated a little to last Misdi.
Notes: nope.
Warnings: Militia stuff, more will be added if necessary

It's a quiet Misdi afternoon when Steph finds herself in Badside; she's there for unrelated reasons, but she remembers Babs mentioning that Wolfgang lives here, and, well - He's been on her mind a lot, lately, after their meeting during the reality storm and subsequent monster invasion, and then Babs discussing him with her, when they were talking about potential allies for their work against the militia. Steph had wavered then, whether or not to spill about the fact Wolfgang could do some kind of magic. Eventually she'd decided to give a little away, vague details, and they'd decided they should talk to him.

She feels guilty, both for telling a secret that doesn't feel like it's hers to tell, and for discussing him like he's a weapon - something to use in their fight. She has to remind herself that it's not like that, that he already talked about wanting to help Babs, and that he still has the option to back out. And maybe she can make it up to him, with the secrets thing. During the reality storm, she hadn't told him it was her underneath the Batgirl costume, and although Steph and Wolfgang don't know each other that well, she thinks she owes it to him to explain.

So she's nearby, and she's thinking of him, but unlike most Bats, she isn't just going to turn up on his doorstep unannounced and uninvited. Instead, she finds a spot to sit down and pulls out her CiD, typing up a text.

Hi, Wolfgang.

I don't know if you remember me, but we've met a few times. I altered some of your clothes for you, and I - well, that's something I'd like to talk to you about. We could go for coffee, or a drink (my treat) this afternoon if you'd like to.

Hope you're well,
Stephanie

It seems a little awkward to her, but she's never been great at texting so it'll have to do. She sends it to Wolfgang's number.

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As it happens, he's in Badside at the moment, working on his house. He's got a guy coming over in a few days to put in the fixtures for the bathrooms, and Wolfgang is trying to get them painted before that just to make it less of a pain in his ass. He's just about finishing up the master bathroom when his CiD chimes to indicate an incoming text.

He is very surprised at reading the contents. 'And I'. Could mean anything. But he likes her well enough, she seems perfectly nice, so why not? He glances at the time, considers -- he should probably take a break shortly anyway before he gets too tired and decides to do something really stupid. So he fires off a quick reply --

Of course I remember you. I'm in Badside, if you're anywhere close to the area, there's a pub off Vurt St called the Slaughtered Lamb. At 3?

She decides not to mention that she's actually in Badside right now. It just seems a little too creepy, not that she's the greatest judge of that anymore, but at least she doesn't watch people while they sleep, Tim. Anyway.

That sounds good, I can be there by 3. See you then.

She slips her CiD back into her pocket after the text is sent, and then after a quick check to make sure she's going in the right direction, heads off to the Slaughtered Lamb. She's been there before, so it doesn't take too long to find it and once there, she buys a drink for herself - just a soda, it's too early for alcohol for her. Then she finds a table near the back, so that they can have a little privacy and takes a seat to wait for Wolfgang.

His clothes are all in Chimer and it would take an unfairly long time to take the El all the way out there, change, and then come back. That bothers him, but oh well he's just going to have to stuff his vanity for a bit. He can't actually uphold this image that he wakes up in the mornings with bluebirds doing his hair and squirrels ironing his laundry forever.

Point is, when shows up at the pub on time for once, he has a light speckling of paint on his clothes and in his hair -- white and golden yellow, mostly. His hands are clean and his hair is pulled back in a high ponytail. He stops to get a beer because it is never too early to drink for him, but he can at least hold off on the hard liquor until five. Then he approaches her, expression friendly, posture relaxed. "Hello, it's good to see you again."

Steph is dressed casual in jeans and a long sleeved shirt, so at least he won't stand out too much next to her. She smiles at him when he approaches, noting that he looks a lot better than he did at their last meeting. She gestures at the seat across from her, indicating that he can sit if he wants.

"Hey, thanks for coming to see me. I realize my message was probably a bit, uh, weird," And her smile turns apologetic at that, because it was kind of weird but she hadn't known how else to phrase it while on a network that can be potentially creeped on by the militia.

"Oh, don't even worry about it. It's not even in my top ten for this week." True facts. He has recently acquired a number of eccentric, gossippy acquaintances. It's like being in the center of a satirical Sex and the City hurricane.

He takes a drink and props his chin on his hand. He does look a bit more alert than he typically does. "What did you want to talk about, then?" Might as well get right to the point, right? It didn't sound terribly urgent, but the abrupt nature of it makes him suspect she didn't intend to just exchange small talk pleasantries.

"I'll have to try harder next time," A joke? Yes. A terrible one? Probably. But that's Steph for you.

Her expression turns into something between wry and sheepish, but she's glad to cut straight to the point, "Remember during the whole... monsters thing, you ran into a girl dressed like a bat?"

She doesn't think she'll need to say that was me, because she trusts Wolfgang is smart enough to put two and two together. Instead she just waits, a bit awkwardly, to see what he has to say about that.

"Ye-eess..." It takes him a moment to come to the correct conclusion, but it's not a hard one to draw. Same general age, similar voice -- not that he can tell one American accent from another -- long blonde hair... He leans back, startled, with his hands flat on the table between them, when he puts the pieces together.

"Well, that's..." Weird? Hello Pot, Kettle is on line 2, something about you being black? Still, though, he can think of a lot of reasons why someone might want to disguise their identity here, and -- "I guess that's not common knowledge, yes?"

Not like he'll be telling anyone. He'd never.

"Yes, and I'd like it to stay that way, please," Not that she expects him to go shouting it to the high heavens or anything, but it's best to be clear. She settles a bit, now that she knows he isn't going to to freak out on her (it could happen). She's also relieved he doesn't seem annoyed at her for not having told him sooner; some people are weird about vigilante stuff.

"I just wanted you to know, since I know about..." she waves a hand in the air to indicate magic, "And because I want to ask for your help."

That last bit is probably a little ominous, but she is asking, not, you know, demanding.

"Of course." He's a bit flighty and scattered, but he understands the importance of discretion. (Or, you know... he'd be dead by now.) His talent, while not exactly a secret, is also not something he spreads around widely, and in fact will actively deny if asked.

He gnaws on his lip as he considers which directions this conversation could go in -- he can maybe guess she's not talking about having her house cleaned. And she's seen a fraction of what he can do, actually do. After a moment, he prompts, "With?"

"I'm a friend of Barbara's," That's a bit of a... warning, is probably the right word. So that he can guess what's coming next. She'll keep vague, though, because they're in a public place and she doesn't want to draw too much attention or worry Wolfgang too much.

"We're trying to make a difference, and we'd like you to help us, if you're willing to," Her expression is gentle. She doesn't know exactly what it was like, to be captured by the militia, but there is understanding there, in it's own way. It's clear, at least, that she won't hold it against him if he says no.

Wolfgang is not stupid, so it doesn't take him much to follow what all that means. The idea of it is like a fist punching him straight in the gut, a cold wind in his heart. He runs his hands through his hair, elbows braced against the table, and exhales, looking down.

He should say no. This is basically suicide, or worse, because everyone here knows there are worse things than death and they're all available in Baedal. He still has nightmares about the incident, which -- them being terribly mundane in comparison to all the other ones doesn't make them any better, since it isn't over once he wakes up. He should be doing what he's already doing: laying low, playing it safe, being a good, model citizen.

But he can't, because he can't ignore what he's heard from people he cares about, seen with his own eyes, experienced bodily. Further, he can't escape it. There's nowhere to run to here, no other cities or countries to hide in, and it's that guilt that eats at him, the belief that he's been enough of a fucking coward for ten lifetimes.

Dying isn't what he's afraid of, anyway. He already knows he's going to, and that it's going to be very soon, and likely in Baedal. And why not -- it's not like he can ever go home again.

It's a long time before he raises his head again, his hands still in his hair. "What do you need?" he asks, voice quiet.

Steph feels terrible about this, especially seeing how he reacts and she wishes she could do something. She contemplates reaching out to put a hand on his arm or something but she doesn't know him well enough, doesn't know if that would help or make things worse.

Instead, she just waits. Hands folded on the table, drink ignored for now and while she doesn't stare at him, she is observent. Sometimes, when there's a need for it, she can be patient.

She doesn't smile at him when he looks up - that's not appropriate - but her expression is grateful, "There's a group of us, Babs and I would like you to be involved in whatever you're comfortable with. That could be anything from simple planning or reconnaissance or spreading information or... more." Meaning attacks, essentially. The point is that they haven't sought him out to do one specific thing. It also, perhaps, indicates that they don't have any solid plans yet. But they're still recovering from the monsters, there will be time for planning soon.

He considers this a moment, letting his head rest against one hand while his other drops back down. Then, in the interests of full disclosure: "In the IDF, I was in Sayeret Yahalom." His voice is low, but they're not going to be overheard here, and even if they were, well. In Badside, people keep their mouths shut. It's part of why he likes it here. "It's, um, special forces, combat engineering. Demolitions and EOD."

That's not easy to get into, and bomb disposal is a particularly difficult job. He doesn't look like a soldier, but who in Baedal looks what they are?

"And, um..." He waves his hand vaguely, wiggling his fingers, which stop that, spirit fingers are the worst magic-indicating gesture ever. "Magic... things, I guess." Okay, it's not always taken super seriously in Baedal, but he could at least put more effort into being dignified about it if he's going to be a wizard.

He folds his arms on the table, then, his mouth set in a thin line. "Point is, I don't..." He shrugs. "I don't have much front line experience, but a lot of training as support. The um, thing," he won't say magic again, "that's new to me, I'm not sure what all it can do."

She listens to that all at once, waiting until he's finished before commenting. It's surprising, slightly, that he was involved in something like that, but she isn't one to judge based on appearances - she doubts she looks much like someone who runs around on rooftops and fights supervillains.

"Support is more than fine. We're not gonna throw you headfirst into situations you can't deal with," She feels so weird talking like this, like someone who actually knows what they hell they're doing.

"And you should get training for the thing," She can tell he's kind of uncomfortable with mentioning that part, "For your own sake, not ours. I can point you in the direction of people who might be able to help, if you'd like."

She's being genuine when she says it for his sake, regardless of whether he'd decided to help them, she still would have told him to get help with his magic.

"All right," he says, and sighs, and runs a hand through his hair again -- it's not over her, obviously he thinks what she's doing is important or he would have turned her down, it's just he can't believe he's doing something this stupid again. The Militia is well-funded, well-armed, has access to resources none of them do, likely hugely outnumbers and outclasses them, and is deeply embedded in the political infrastructure of Baedal. They're all probably going to die.

He guesses she's probably aware of that.

"It's fine, thank you, I'm taking care of it." By which he means all aboard the Denial Train, choo choo! Now pulling into Delusional Central Station! He sounds polite and a little sheepish; he doesn't mean to blow her off about it, but the idea itself makes him uncomfortable.

Then again, if he's going to use it for something that actually matters, he should at least figure out what the hell he's doing. It's okay if he sets himself on fire, but not okay if he sets someone else on fire.

While he's at it, he finishes off his beer. When he gets back to Kahnde's, he's going to crack into his hard liquor. Shaking his head, he gestures with the empty bottle. "Um, but -- feel free to call me for whatever you need." He means it, too. If he's going to do this, he's going to commit completely; he can't run away this time.

Steph is holding onto the hope that they are good enough and smart enough not to die, but she's well aware that it's a possibility. This is partly why she's making herself the face of their campaign. If something goes wrong, it will come back to her, not Oracle, not anyone else and Steph will just - deal with those consequences then.

The look she gives him indicates that she doesn't believe him at all, but she's also aware she's in no position to call him on it, "Just be careful." Is what she settles on, aware of the irony of saying that while they're discussing going against the militia.

"Thank you," she means it, "We'll keep you in the loop. And the same goes for me. If you need help with anything, even if it's not directly related to this..." She finishes that with a shrug, not sure if it's appropriate to offer her services as Batgirl to everyone involved in this. Not that she minds, it's more that she worries whether other people will think she's weird for doing it.

That is so enormously ironic that it actually makes him smile a little -- dryly, to be sure, but it's still a smile. "Well, I'll try," he lies, because the word 'careful' is not actually a part of his vocabulary. Living in Baedal has just aggravated that.

Fucking monster rain, seriously.

"I'll keep that in mind." Wolfgang is lucky in some aspects because despite occasionally being hassled by officers -- on the train, usually, not often within Badside itself -- they mostly ignore him, and the worst he has to deal with are comments intended to intimidate. Not more violence. "Thank you. Hopefully I won't need anyone punched in the face or whatever."

He is at least reasonably sure she would be excellent at that. The bat costume is a little scary.

"Or whatever," She agrees, with only a little hint of pride "I do sneaky stuff as well."

Sneaky stuff is, of course, Bat code for breaking and entering, investigating people, hacking into computers and generally stalking people and making a public nuisance of herself. Punching people in the face is one of many skills.

"I should point out we can't exactly - pay you, but if you need funds for something, we can help," She doesn't really think he'd have expected some sort of salary or remibursment (Irene) but it's also better to be clear about everything.

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