Earth-52 IC

[industrious]

Issue #0
Writer: industrious, DeafNotDumb, Sophistemon, Bruendor_Cavescout, and ChronicLunacy
Artist: Jim Lee

Page One: I want 1 and 4 to be twice the size as 2 and 3. Split the page into threes, length-wise, then divide the center one in half.

PIC 1

OPEN ON the Mayor's office. Nice place, really. Dark wood. Sparsely furnished; I want lots of empty desk space, one or two figurines. Mostly paperwork.

I think the office should be one of those with a the back wall as an entire window; that very modern sort of idea. It's night, though, and there isn't any light except the moon. HARVEY DENT is behind the desk; have his face and suit obscured by the shadow. Only way to know it's him is the nameplate.

The phone is ringing.

(No diologue)

PIC 2

Same image as before, but Dent has the phone to his ear.

HARVEY;
Hello?

HARVEY;
I see.

PIC 3

Harvey leans forward, and now we get to see that great design you sent me for the guy. I mean, his left side isn't that grotesque screwed up way it is in normal comics. It looks like he's had major reconstructive surgery, but he definitely doesn't look normal. That side of his skin is much paler than his normal shade; it looks plastic-like. Same with the shock of white hair; it shouldn't look normal.

HARVEY; Gordon. Call them.

Make sure they get that they're seeing it from Gordon's perspective.

Page Two

PIC 1

GORDON on the rooftop of the GCPD. His hand's on the switch of the new SIGNAL. Make sure the readers don't see the design yet. I want a shot of Harvey's reelection poster on the rooftop door. A face shot, and underneath, the caption: THE ONLY HONEST TWO-FACED POLITICIAN YOU'LL EVER KNOW.

GORDON; Showtime.

PIC 2

The Gotham sky and skyline. It's a cloudy night, because it's rarely sunny in Gotham. Make sure that it's not too early in the night, though; banks are still open. This is important.

Caption(I want a purple border on these) (NO TAIL);


Come one, come all

Effects; Thunk.

PIC 3

As above, but with the new SIGNAL shining above the sky. No Batman means a different signal is required. Like we talked about on the phone, it's going to cast a red light onto Gotham (Red skiess at night, criminals take flight!), and an image of Lady Justice on it.

Caption (NO TAIL);
Welcome to the world's greatest entertainment since the fall of Rome.

Page Three

This layout, I want to be very staggered. Mostly white, with square boxes. Sort of like snapshots.

PIC 1

A bank. A crowd of people in line. Normal stuff.

Caption(NO TAIL);
Life.

PIC 2

A group of armed men in black ski masks enter. One of them fires a shotgun, kills one of the people on the line.

Caption(NO TAIL);
Death

PIC 3

Shotgun-guy is pointing the gun at the woman behind the counter.

Caption (NO TAIL);
Victims

PIC 4

Panicked customers are covered by the other people.

Caption (NO TAIL);
Voyeurs

PIC 5

The people at the bank have been separated into groups; one of them is filled with people in nice clothes (suits, pearls, etc).

Caption (NO TAIL);
The Best of Society.

PIC 6

Another group. Decidedly less fancy.

Caption (NO TAIL);
The Lowest of Plebeians.

PIC 7

The Bank Vault is open; a pallet of bills is being taken out.

Caption (NO TAIL);
All Compliments of the Ultimate Showman-Fate!

PIC 8

Back to the bank doors. Glass, but you can't see out onto the Street.

Caption (TAIL goes to the crack between the doors);


All that's missing...

Page 4

PIC 1

The doors burst open. Enter the JOKER. I know you've played around with other people's character designs, but I want him to be the Joker, and instantly recognizable as such. Have him carrying a guitar case, though.

JOKER; ...Is the Colosseum!

Page 5

Pic 1

JOKER taps his head thoughtfully, sticks his lip out.

JOKER; Hold on a moment...

Pic 2

JOKER sticks his finger up; face is jubilant.

JOKER; No we don't!

Pic 3

Two young people-early to mid 20s, are thrown to the ground. You can clearly see the girl's engagement ring.

A knife it in between them, blade sunk into the floor. You can tell it's just been thrown that way; have some lines to indicate this.

JOKER(Off-Panel); You two! Fight to the Death!

Pic 4

The couple are hesitating...

JOKER(You can see his shoes, at least); If you don't...

Page Six

Pic 1

Shot of Joker from the waist-up, now. He's got a pistol (normal-looking pistol) and he's pointing it at a infant held by a mother.

JOKER; I'll make sure that that baby never had to bother anyone again!

Pic 2

The Joker laughs. I don't think you need more description than that.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot, The Man Who Never Misses

The doors swung open wide behind the Joker, slapping against the door-stops with a loud bang. Framed in the doorway was a man in a brown trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat, but the adornments blocked out so much of his features that no details could be made out immediately. Slowly, the brim of the hat rose as the man tilted his chin up and the dominant feature of his "face" was made known -- a glowing, red monocle where his right eye should have been. The rest of his head was covered by a metallic mask that made recognizing him impossible and glaringly simple at the same time. While no one knew his real name, the mask was a common, if fearfully whispered rumor in the circles upon circles of crime in the city of Gotham. Standing there, facing off against the clown king of crime, was Deadshot, the vigilante gunman, the scourge of the underworld, the man who never missed.

Deadshot didn't draw a weapon yet, but one of his arms shot up and the report of a gun rang out within the bank. The pistol in the Joker's hands was the target. If all went as planned, there was a shower of sparks and the piece flew from the freak's hand to the corner of the room as a single bullet struck it from his grip. Smoke from the shot slowly wafted toward the ceiling from the sleeve of Deadshot's trenchcoat in the aftermath. It had happened so fast, and the vigilante just stood there, glaring with that cyclopean stare.

"I remember the Colosseum. How about we feed you to the lions instead, laughing boy?"

In the event that the shot didn't connect, or the Joker managed to keep hold of the weapon, the single shot would serve as a functioning warning. Hopefully, the Joker and his henchmen would see the single shot like a cannonball across a ship's bow. The intent was to inform the offensive madman that things would be easier on him if he surrendered. Though the first shot hadn't done any damage...there was more than one round in Deadshot's arsenal.

Ranged Disarm (Improved Sunder negates penalty for targeting held objects.): [roll0]
If the attack beats the Joker's defense, there's an opposed roll of the attack's damage versus the villain's Strength. See P.156 of the Core for details.
Disarm: [roll1]

[roll2]

[DeafnotDumb]

Behind the Scenes


Major Crimes Unit

"Oh no no no not again no. Please, not this time-"

Crispus Allen fumbles with the commlink as he tries to balance putting it into his ear, dropping his drink and not-panicking at the same time. He manages all three, and everybody turns to look as his coffee drops to the floor and rolls away, but he's not thinking about that now, because he's just managed to fit the microphone underneath his chin. There's a short crackle as the commlink connects to something on the other end.

He sighs. "God above, please tell me that's not you there, and please tell me that you're not going where I think you are..."

There's an incredulous pause. Allen covers the mic with his hand, and speaks to the room at large. "Gone to Pawn."

It's impossible to illustrate the hubbub that these three words create in the already chaotic environment of a busy police office, but Allen ignores it. He's too concerned with whatever's happening on the other end of the mic.

"Sir, what the hell do you think you're doing? You-"

A short, sustained burst of profanity from the other end silences him. He tries again.

"We have teams going there! Not you! What is so important that you have to be there?"

There's a short burst of static, and then a silence in the office, giving birth to a thousand terrible thoughts. Finally, Crispus Allen clears his throat.

"Oh." He says. "Him?"

There's another pause.

"MacDonald gave you the directions?" He asks. "She was logged in? What meant you couldn't tell us?"

"Time. I see." He sighs. "Just lucky she was on." There's a weary sigh as the policeman receives confirmation. "How'd you know about it?" He asks.

Gotham City Bank

"I just happened to be in the area." Katherine hisses into her mic. "Goddamn Gordon called me up."

There's a reply, and Katherine just snarls a little as she makes her reply. "Just shut up! I've got no time to concentrate! I'm nearly there!"

There's a pause, and then the person on the other line speaks again. Katherine smiles. "Yeah. You, too." She says.

It's only taken about a couple of minutes of frantic running, and she's here. Given the pain in her leg and - well, just about everywhere - she figures she understands why the stories all tend to gloss over this part of her job. Dodging down the back streets of Gotham is never glamorous, no matter what the situation. With a sigh, she switches off the comlink in her ear (no distractions), and gives herself a moment to prepare. No point rushing in just to get shot.

Her left hand hovers over her pocket. "Gun." She whispers. Her right grips her stick. "Sword." Finally, her left hand goes up again to a spot just below her neck, where something dangles from a necklace. "Shield." The back door to the bank hangs in front of her, and she wonders what lies beyond.

Alright. She's as ready as she's ever gonna be. No time to waste. She recalls the directions that MacDonald gave her. Go in this door, one right, two sharp lefts, and she'll be there. No problems, right? Right?

Right.



Lieutenant Walker, Gotham's Big Blue

"Freeze." Walker says calmly. "Police."

The Lieutenant stands in what is her now iconic uniform, the deep navy blue standing out against the shiny background of the bank. Behind her, one of the side doors clicks gently shut. In her right hand is a heavy revolver, silver and shiny with polish and general use, and her left grips the swordstick that everybody knows.

She looks across to where the man she will always think of as the Smiler stands, all in his garish villainy and his manic laugh. "You know, I remember you when you dressed like a humorless little git, but you had some intelligence in your jokes." She said calmly. "At least you were actually funny then."


Using intimidate to taunt the Joker (if allowed) in order to get him to focus his fury on her: [roll0] If not allowed, feel free to use the roll as intimidation against the mooks.
Delaying main action, to see what's happening before shooting like an idiot.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question, Gotham’s Faithful and Faceless Defender

Kate raced across Gotham’s rooftops towards the bank, the Justice signal burning crimson on the black clouds that hung low in the sky. They were heavy with rain, but had yet to deliver upon the threat of drenching the city. As she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, she listened to her assistants back at Alpha Command, relaying vital information back to them. “ETA to the bank, five minutes. What sort of intel do we have on the threat, sir?" She leapt across a wide alleyway, grabbing ahold of the fire escape a few floors down. She swung herself over the rail, and climbed the fire escape back to the top of the roof as she listened. “Ten masked men, wielding various firearms, and led by…" Her stomach tightened as she heard the report. “The Joker. Damn it, how did he escape from Arkham again? Gordon and Dent were right to call us in. Rhetoric, remind me to talk to Lock-Up after this. We either need to put him in the Slammer or convince the asylum to beef up security. Again." She picked up her speed – with The Joker involved, it wasn’t a matter of if he would open fire on innocents, but a matter of when.

She came to a stop atop a tall building across from the bank. She closed her eyes beneath her Pseudoderm mask, and chanted a quiet prayer. Several characters of Hebrew script appeared around where her left eye would be, and the world’s secret connections began to reveal themselves to her. She saw a woman with an obvious limp heading around the back of the bank – definitely Lt. Walker, covering the rear entrance. She saw a man wearing a brown trenchcoat and matching hat heading towards the bank as well, his hands in his pockets, and an ominous red-glowing eye from beneath the hat – Deadshot would be covering the front, it seemed. That pinned the criminals in, which was a dangerous plan – desperate men do desperate things, doubly so when The Joker calls the shots. She had to find an oblique entrance, and quietly. The light of binah shone from around the side of the bank, and she changed positions to get a better look. A smile came up from beneath her blank features – someone had left a window unlocked on the third floor, leading into a janitorial closet. She made her way to the window, opened it as silently as she could, and ceased drawing upon the sephira.

She followed the sound of The Joker’s chilling laughter, and came to a balcony overlooking the hostages. She saw the purple-clad clown, pointing a gun at an infant held by a desperately-pleading mother. She knew what she had to do – calling upon hod, she quickly made her descent into the bank, quietly interposing herself between The Joker’s gun and the baby. “There are two ways this goes,” she thought as she took up her position as a human shield. “Either the rest of the team shows up, distracting The Joker long enough for me to grab the gun, or, he shoots, and hits me rather than the child." She sighed grimly. “The sacrifices I make for you, Gotham."


Kate's action: Activate Hod (invisibility), and silently move between The Joker and the woman holding the baby. Ready an action to attempt to strike The Joker once one of the other members of the team burst onto the scene.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

Rolls are going here because the dice roller hates me.

Random roll: [roll0]

Stealth roll: [roll1]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up, Gotham's Man of Iron

The Paddy Wagon screams through the streets of Gotham, its sirens blaring in a shrill, cacophonous klaxon. Gone were the days when he might drive along the twisting back roads of the city, silently approaching his prey like a thief in the night, a whispered urban legend. Now he drives brazenly, out in the open, swerving in, through, and around traffic in death-defying feats of automotive skill. Let them see him, let them hear him coming. Let the innocent draw hope and the guilty draw fear from the armed and armored car that roared past them.

As he drives, his police scanner let him in on the details. A group of armed men entered the bank - not sure how many - and there was at least one reported fatality as a result of a point-blank shotgun blast to the torso. At their head, the Joker. Lock-Up shakes his head. He needed to talk to the Question about him, maybe convince Gordon and Dent to permit his incarceration in the Slammer. The Joker was at least as dangerous as the metahuman prisoners for which the new Slammer was designed. He was certainly no ordinary gangster.

Worthless, coddling doctors and impotent, powerless bureaucrats... he thinks, a scowl marring the features below his mask. How many people have died because you won't let me take care of it? A familiar anger rises in his chest, like bile, but he swallows it down. "Focus on the mission," he reminds himself. He'd read a book on Eastern meditation a few years back, and employs some of those techniques to calm himself as he drives the Paddy Wagon through two tractor-trailer shipping trucks traveling in opposite directions on either side of the road.

He kills the siren and drives the rest of the distance in silence before parking a block away from the bank. He leaps from the driver's seat and with a crack, zing, whiz his grapple gun has him on the rooftops. He makes his way towards the bank. His angle of approach allows him to see an open window on the third floor, leading into what looks to be a storage closet. He smiles beneath his mask. One of his allies is already here - at least one! The Question, more than likely; she always seemed to know what was going on.

And probably Deadshot, too. It would be good to work with him again. He hefts himself lithely through the window and makes his way to the balcony. He holds back for a moment, surveying the situation. Deadshot, one of his wristols smoking. Lieutenant Walker, her hands wrapped around a large handgun and her signature swordcane. There was no sign of the Question, but that didn't mean anything. And there, in the center of it all, at the heart of the chaos, was the Joker and his goons. Lock-Up removes his nightstick from his belt.

"Joker!" he shouts, his voice like gravel in a blender. "You're surrounded. Surrender and come quietly. Final warning."

[roll0]

[industrious]

Joker


[roll0]


The shot rings against the gun, but the insane sociopath barely seems to notice it.

"Well, look, folks, it's officer Krupke. Well KRUP YOU, Officer Krupke!"

The gun is pointed at Walker, and laughing all the while, the Joker pulls the trigger.


Attack Roll:[roll1]
DC 19 Toughness Save.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"West Side Story?" said a disembodied voice directly in front of The Joker. A glowing Hebrew symbol appeared about where The Question's left leg was, and as it flashed into existence, she was already moving. She aimed a right cross at his cheek, her light blue trenchcoat fluttering with her sudden movement. "I never pegged you for a Bernstein fan. But, I suppose he's better than Sondheim." She grabbed at his gun, trying to keep it trained on her rather than the hostages, and aimed a strike at his throat.

"What can I say - I can't stand Assassins.

[roll0]

[industrious]

Joker


Toughness Save:[roll0]


"Ack! Ack!"

It's a solid hit; the Joker reels back, dropping the pistol and massaging his jaw.

At the very least, he won't be able to talk for a while.


Status: Bruised(1) and Stunned

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Seeing a shift in the action, Lock-Up vaults over the balcony railing and drops to the faux-marble floor of the bank, landing in a crouch. His new armor does a fantastic job of absorbing the shock - he doesn't feel a thing. He lands as closely as possible to one of the Joker's goons, preferably the one that had used a shotgun to murder an innocent. He uses the momentum of his fall to launch himself towards the thug, the nightstick held high in a rather large and imposing fist. When he reaches the man, he brings the nightstick down at the juncture of neck and shoulder. The clavicle, or collarbone, is one of the most fragile in the human body, certainly the most prone to breaking. It is, therefore, Lock-Up's preferred target, being exceptionally vulnerable to fractures that are regarded as being devastatingly painful. So far as nonlethal crippling is concerned, attacking the clavicle is a better choice than most. "You were warned, Joker!" he shouts.

Actions:
Using a Move action to leap from the balcony (the suit has Slow Fall, negating damage, if any) and approaching the nearest goon.
Using a Standard action to attack the goon with the nightstick (DC25). [roll0].
If the roll is 17 or higher, that's a Critical Threat (Improved Critical 3). If Lock-Up downs the goon in one hit, he may attack another goon in range, if any (Takedown Attack 2).

[industrious]

Lock-Up

They try to get their weapons between themselves and Lock-Up's nightstick, but the man is too strong; he smashes the firearms to bits, and the fractured arms are enough to drop them.

[industrious]

Goon Squad #2

Seeing how Lock-Up just took out five of their number, the goons back off, each of them grabbing a hostage.

"Don't move, man," one of them manages to gasp out. "Or we'll blow their bloody brains out."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot, the Man Who Never Misses

Deadshot smiled, but behind his blank, white mask it wasn't really noticeable. He took a few steps so that he was facing down the five gunmen and their hostages like a gunfighter from the Old West. The trench coat swishing about his knees only added to the effect. It was a shame he'd taken off his hat, actually.

"Looks like what we have here is a predicament, boys. Do I hold fire, wait for a clear shot, and plead with you not to hurt anyone? It's certainly what I should do and all." he sighed theatrically before his arms snapped up. There was a quick burst of thunder, like someone tearing a phone book in half, and each of the five thugs suddenly blossomed with wounds to their gun-side shoulders, elbows, or arms. It was over before the hostages could even blink or gasp. "Or I could just shoot all of you. Quicker that way. Innocent hostages, please find cover? Much obliged." he finished. "By the way. Anyone see my hat?"

Autofire 8. -2 from struggling hostages, -3 from walking the shot three spaces. Taking ten for a 17 on each minion. At PL3 that should be more than enough to hit all of them, I hope. :smalleek:

[industrious]

The Bank

The Joker's minions are all blown back, collapsed onto the floor. And the Joker himself is still woozy from the Question's blow, unable to speak for the moment. But, as it turns out, not so woozy that he can't throw a pair of spheres at the party, purple gas hissing from the nozzles concealed within.


Everybody make a DC 20 Fort Save. Effects are Morph and Drain Constitution; this would be Joker Venom, folks.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

When the gas begins to billow out of the grenade, Lock-Up inhales deeply, trying to fill his lungs with as much fresh air as he can before breathing becomes dangerous. Unfortunately, the Joker venom rushes out faster than anticipated, and his breath is laced with the poison. He coughs, once, losing his breath, and after that it's too late. He can feel the muscles of his face tightening so hard that his flesh grows pale and pulling his lips into a ghastly grin. Though he can't see it, he knows that his eyes are growing wide, wild and bloodshot as the toxin courses through his system. After that, it starts slowly, but rises.

"Heh," he coughs. "Hack! Hah. Hoo. Hee." He drops to his knees, clutching his sides.

"Hahaha," he chuckles. "Hooheehee," he chortles.

And then, finally: "Ah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah-hah!"

It explodes out of him and his chest heaves with the force of it.

"Qu-hah! Que-hee-hee-stion!" he calls. "Ho-ho-how do y-hah! You stop a circus?"

He points a trembling finger at the Joker.

"You-hoo-hoo ta-hah!-rget the juggler!"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Trusting his armor's filtration system to protect him against the poison, Deadshot didn't try to avoid being exposed. His trust proved well-founded, as he only experienced a little bit of a copper taste instead of starting to laugh like a madman. He turned toward everyone else and cupped one hand to his face as the purple gas enveloped him, yelling for everyone to clear the area. "Everyone out! Don't touch or breathe the smoke!" he shouted, quickly becoming just a shadow with a glowing, red eye in the midst of the cloud. "Damned madman..." he growled as his mask switched to enhanced vision mode, going infrared in order to cut through the smoke better. The Joker needed to be put down...he just hoped he could keep himself from shooting to kill.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The Question felt her heart caught in her throat as she saw the noxious purple gas emitted by the spheres. "Deadshot! I need ventilation - yesterday!" She aimed another strike at The Joker, trying to keep the lunatic off balance, really more for show than any attempt to harm the psychotic clown any further. After her flurry of strikes, she bounded away from The Joker, and grabbed as many of the hostages as she could manage. "Come with me, we're getting you out of here!"

Super secret roll: [roll0]

[industrious]

The Joker

"Now that was rude!"

The Joker blocks a nasty blow to the groin, and presses in close to the Question, his grin only a few inches away from her face. His eyes stare where the mask hides her's, but it still feels as if he's gazing straight at her. The Joker has a very forceful sort of presence.

"I know you ain't a fan of the better sex, toots, but you don't need to take our your penis envy on little ol' me!"

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up, the Man Who Hates Clavicles

The armored behemoth rises shakily to his feet and forces his hands from their grasping positions at his sides. His chest hurt from laughing, his face hurt from grinning - his entire body hurt from what the poison was doing to him, but he couldn't stop to worry about it. Right now there was only the Mission, and he needed to do whatever he could to protect as many people as possible. He takes a few staggering steps, closing in on the Joker, and hears his snide little comment about gender envy. Anger clouds his mind and that, combined with the effects of the gas, puts a damper on his swing when he attacks.

Actions:

Movement action: Approaching the Joker. If Flanking applies, add its bonus to the attack below.
Standard action: attacking the Joker with the nightstick (DC25, Critical range 17-20) [roll0]

[industrious]

The Joker

"Really, now," he remarks, catching the truncheon without any apparent effort.

"That was rude! Really, Lock-Up. Didn't your mother teach you any manners?"

He shoves the club back at Lock-Up forcing him to backpedal in order to stay upright.

Walker's Turn (the mooks are all down)

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

The good news is, she drew the Joker's attention enough for him to shoot only her. The bad news is, she's been shot.

The bullet's lodged somewhere from her torso to her thigh - that whole side's a little numb, she can't really tell. The thing they never prepare you for is how much the initial reaction to properly being shot hurts - it's not like the movies or comic books, where a glancing blow will knock you back a bit and have you up all in a jiffy, ready and raring to go like some idiotic action hero. No, it will send you right back on your ass and leave you sprawled on the floor like a nobody while the whole fight goes on around you.

This was, Katherine muzzily reflected, probarbly not the Gotham MCU's finest hour. Luckily, there's others here: Katherine can reconize the vauge shapes of some of her fellow freaks and lunantics, from that flamboyant dolt Deadshotty, who'd probably rather date one of his guns than a girl, and that big burly Bolton who's just as subtle as ever, should probably be glad he didn't crash his freaking van through the wall, for such a smart guy he's got a mind like a brick - and somewhere there is that Question bint, who's probably doing something smart and sensible right now, like standing up. Katherine feels that she should be following her example.

The Joker must have dropped his gas sometime recently, because the policewoman can feel her lungs heaving in and out, forcing out the laughter and leaving her gasping for breath and energy as her muscles spasm sporadically. She looks as she feels, a right bitch, and the face that gets up is not a happy smiling face. Probably more like a visage. Or a grimace.

She's up just in time to hear that white-faced lunantic push Lock-Up away with a silly, childish joke on his lips. Right. That's enough, Katherine decides, and drops her gun into what she hopes is her pocket, and lunges towards the Joker best as she can.

She sees that waxen grimace, and the swordstick slides out of her cane as silken as steel can."Looking for new scars, Joker?" She mutters, half-dazed, to herself. "Let's see if I can get you some more!"

Steel slides towards her opponent's face.


Attack Joker with Swordstick. To hit: [roll0]. Toughness DC 15+8.

[industrious]

The Joker


[roll0] (actually, it's 24, but it's still a success)


The sword just barely grazes the sociopath's side; it's little more than a scratch.

"Why, Lieutenant...I didn't know you cared. Heh Heh HA HA!"

If Walker still dreamed like a normal individual, she would have had nightmares about that laugh.

Deadshot's Turn

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Following the Question's direction, Deadshot spun and fired, walking his shots across any of the bank's windows that he could see. Hopefully, by punching out the glass he could vent the Joker's poison enough that none of the hostages would be affected. What he really wanted to do was put one of his rubber stun-bullets right between that laughing idiot's eyes, but hopefully the others could get their feet back under themselves and handle it without him.

Trying to get rid of the Joker Venom cloud. I figure I don't have to roll to use autofire on the windows, but if I have to I'll do it in the OOC thread.

[industrious]

The Joker

"Now, officer..."

A knife flashes in his hand.

"You don't look too well. Maybe I can be of some...assistance."


[roll0]
Toughness Save DC 18

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Dammit, thought The Question. That gas is taking a lot out of us - we need to end this fast. The Joker's attention was diverted as he took a moment to stab the Lieutenant, so she spun a sidekick into his midsection. It was a solid blow, one that took the psychopath by surprise and connected in the soft spot beneath the ribs and above the hips.

[industrious]

The Joker

The Joker gasps as the wind is knocked out of his lungs; he's wheezing now, and only barely able to stand.

Lock-Up's Turn

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

He staggers backwards and pinwheels his arms to stay standing, something that would likely never happen if he'd not been coughing up the Joker's goofy gas. His vision blurs red, not because he's angry, no, he's still under the psychological effect of the Joker's venom, but because the minute blood vessels in his eyes are beginning to burst due to the strain of the poison in his body. It hurts to move, it hurts to breath, it hurts to think. He wants nothing more than to just lie down and let the laughter escort him into blissful unconsciousness.

But the others are still fighting, and who knows what other tricks the Joker might have up his sleeves? He has to keep trying to finish it. Even if he's too unsteady to land a hit, even if he can only serve as a distraction, every little bit helps. Lock-Up takes a step forward, flanking the Joker, and raises his club. He brings it across towards the madman from the other side.

Actions:

Move action: approaching the Joker and assuming a flanking position with the Question.
Standard action: attacking the opposite side of the Joker's body, opposed to the side that the Question just kicked (DC25) [roll0]

[industrious]

The Joker

The madman is knocked to the floor, wheezing all the while. He's still conscious, though; slowly, and with great care, he manages to get up, swaying all the white.


Status: Bruised(3), Staggered, and Stunned

Katherine's Turn

[DeafnotDumb]

Katherine Walker

By some mixture of skill and sheer dumb luck, Katherine catches the edge of the Joker's knife on her blade. She holds it there for a second until two of her freaks, Lock-Up and Question, simultaneously act and push the madman back from her, crumpling him to the ground.

Even in her maddened state, where it takes a while for Katherine to see that her opponent has been knocked back, the policewoman can see very clearly that the lunatic is on his last legs, and trying to rise.

There was no better opportunity.


Attacking. To hit: [roll0] (-1 due to injured)
Toughness Save DC 23.

[industrious]

Joker

He rocks back from the blow, but somehow, impossibly, he's still standing.

Deadshot's Turn

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"FWEEEEEEEET!!"

Deadshot put two fingers against his mask where his mouth was and blew, causing a shrill whistle to get the Joker's attention. When the maniac spun around, the vigilante was pointing one arm toward the ceiling and held the other on his hip, looking at ease. "Hey, creep. Heads up." he said, pointing upward. Then the pistol on his wrist cracked once. The rubber stun-bullet hit the curved surface of a ceiling light, then rebounded off the ceiling itself twice before darting straight down into the Joker's forehead, right between the eyes.

Blast 8 (Non-Lethal): [roll0]

[industrious]

The Joker


[roll0]


He staggers forward, drunkenly putting one foot in front of the other; eventually, he manages to collide with Deadshot, who is easily able to catch him. The Joker's face pressed up against the vigilante's.

"The Joker has left the building!"

And then he slumps at last, unconscious.

[industrious]

Theme Music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p81_kAFdyr8)
Aftermath

This (http://29.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_ks4z97tiNJ1qzb91ho1_500.jpg) is the shape of reality.

A hypothetical snowflake existing in 196333 dimensional space-time.

The Snowflake rotates. Each element of the Snowflake rotates. Each rotation describes a new universe.

In a countless number of universes, a man's parents were killed, and he swore vengeance on those who had done so. He had become a force of vengeance, a dark mirror to the world he inhabited. He struck fear into those who made the public afraid, defended the city countless times.

This is not the story of those universes. Here, a man's parents were murdered, and the young boy was driven mad by the trauma. The streets of his city grew dark, and there was no safety in day or night. The city became a festering wound, rotten almost to the core.

But though the boy never became the warrior, the city still struggled on. In his absence, other champions stepped forward to take on the burden. Other stories were told. And when the servant of the boy stared out the window of the magnificent and empty mansion, stared at the city before him, he smiled, for the first time in what seemed to be ages.

End of Issue #0.

[industrious]

Earth-52: Issue #1

The body was found almost fifteen minutes after the break-in. A sweep of LexCorp's Gotham office revealed a shattered second story window, and an open skylight.

The burglar had hacked the financial records of the company; the security protocols in place had kept him from editing the records, but he had still made off with the company's financial statements for the past 20 years.

Publically, Lex Luthor mourned the death of his part-time security guard. Privately, he was furious at the incompetence of his IT department. The multi-billionaire, who was considering a presidential run, was putting a great deal of pressure on the GCPD to solve the case. And to solve it quickly.

Dent tried to shield them as best as he could, but Luthor had more money than Gotham's annual budget, and more importantly, the man was threatening to pull out of Gotham entirely; thousands would lose their jobs if such a move ever occurred.

"Solve the case, Gordon," he had said. "Luthor's scum, but he's got deep enough pockets to make things very difficult to Gotham. And we already owe him for helping us recover after No Man's Land."

The crime scene is covered with police tape; the public are quickly escorted out. And Bullock waits for the freaks to arrive.

Kate Kane

She stared into the mirror, and the five-year old form of herself looked back. As she continued to look, the child grew older and older; old scars from childhood mishaps appeared, her pose and posture began to change, and the clothes the image wore changed from dresses to jeans, from jeans to a West Point uniform, from the West Point uniform back to civilian garb. Then comes the sound of gunfire, and the grim look of the Crimson Avenger stares back at her, service pistol in hand. And then, at last, the faceless features of the Question stare back at her. Throughout the entire experience, she gets the feeling that the image in the mirror is watching her. Is judging her.

The Question smiles, the area around her lips widening almost imperceptibly, and puts a finger to her lips. The mirror shatters

And Katherine is catepulted awake, a single word on her lips.

"Renee..."

[DeafnotDumb]

Katherine Walker

The cop looks around the destroyed department and sighs. Her badge is flashed in order to get past the tape. "Walker, MCU." She says, and heads towards where Bullock is standing.

It's all second-nature by now. She goes over to the big lump of lard and pokes him affectionately in the shoulder. "Bastard, sitrep." She says. "I wanna know the stuff before the freaks arrive. It always irritates me when they know more about what's going on in my goddamn city than I do. Time for chit-chat and sexist lesbo banter later, on drinks night. Not now."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Using a pair of binoculars and a parabolic microphone, Lock-Up is able to listen in on Walker's conversation with Bullock from the relative safety of a nearby rooftop. His lips quirk into a smile under his mask when she refers to him (in addition to the other vigilantes) as a 'freak'. It's true, of course, but this is Gotham. Normal people didn't live here. Determining that he won't learn much more than what he already knows from the roof, he grapples down to the LexCorp office and enters the building. Once inside, he'll head towards the crime scene. If halted by police or security, he'll raise his hands in a nonthreatening way and say "I'm here to help with the investigation. Detective Walker will vouch for me."

Actions:
Move action: approach and enter the building, using the grapple gun.
Standard action: switch to Detective allotment.
Current Polymath Allotment: Detective - Skills: Investigate +8; Notice +4; Search +8
Miscellaneous roll: [roll0]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

The smoke from the cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth hung around the little room like fog despite the efforts of a small, oscillating fan on the edge of the desk. The fact that what was now Floyd Lawton's arsenal used to be a rather nice walk-in closet was probably to blame. The smoke didn't really have anywhere to go. He knew that smoking in a tiny room amongst lots of things that went boom was probably a bad idea but Floyd had never really concerned himself with self-preservation as much as the next guy. That he used himself as a live bullet shield for the fabulously wealthy during the day and went swinging from the rooftops shooting at mafia members most every night of the week was a testament to that fact.

He was wearing his mask, rolled up to just over his nose so that he could use the monocle's zoom function on the bullet he was currently carving his initials into. 7.62 NATO, full metal jacket, customized to his exact specifications; it would be used with the similarly customized M39 Enhanced Marksman Rifle hanging on the rack over on the adjacent wall. He took the cigarette from his mouth and blew air and smoke over the bullet, taking away the tiny grains of metal carved up from the engraving process. The handwriting was as perfect as if he'd written it with a pen: D.S. in an elegant, flowing cursive. This one was special. He'd put it away until he knew who he was going to give it to. For now, though, he had a job to do. It was getting dark after all.

Floyd put out the cigarette in the ash tray on the desk and put the rest of his armored costume on; easy to do since aside from the mask he was only wearing a pair of briefs and a single sock. (It was hot in the closet and the tiny fan didn't help.) He then snapped on his wrist guns along with a bandolier of tear gas and smoke grenades, and attached a laser sight to a Jatimatic GG-95 "Personal Defense Weapon" to round off his equipment for the night. He'd bought the last one just because he had thought it looked cool in this one Sylvester Stallone movie. Deadshot smiled as he pulled the bottom half of his mask down and attached it to the torso piece at the neckline.


____________________(+)____________________

Deadshot was a bit later to the party, but he didn't bother listening in to the conversation before he rappelled through the hole in the broken skylight with the grapple attached to the underside of one of his gauntlets, so he arrived around the same time Lock-Up did. He arrested his fall down the rope right before his feet would have touched the floor, allowing him to swing lazily for a moment. "Hey, are you guys doing that CSI thing? Because I don't want to get the 'you're walking all over the evidence!' speech." he said, his usual sarcastic tone on every word. "And Bullock just looks so cute when he's looking for clues."

[industrious]

Bullock

"What's this about lesbo banter? You never told me anything about lesbos before, Katie."

She hates that nickname. And he's too stubborn to use anything else. And she really can't do anything about it, either. Other than tell him off. Again.

"Right. We got ourselves a cold stiff, obviously. Mid-thirties, Caucasian. Single. Probable cause of death was a small explosive; think a grenade, but more personal. Probably another costumed freak killing."

He pauses for a minute, finishes a doughnut-a caloric monstrosity that resembles the unholy love child of a Boston Creme and a French Cruller.

"We've gone over the scene, but they'll probably want to do it yourselves. We've got pictures of everything, so you should be fine against contamination."

As the two make their entrance, he sighs.

"Oh, bite me, Mr. Monocle. What the hell is up with that, anyway? You go half-blind because you work with your hands too much?"

Luigi, 12 hours earlier

The doors of the prison open, and carrying a single duffel bag, Luigi walks outside the walls for the first time in five years.

Prison had changed him, there was no denying that. But he had used his time well. Had honed his skills. Had tried to stay out of trouble, to be a model prisoner.

There was no car waiting for him; he had no close friends or associates to pick him up. But he was out. And a new beginning awaited.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot



As the two make their entrance, he sighs.

"Oh, bite me, Mr. Monocle. What the hell is up with that, anyway? You go half-blind because you work with your hands too much?"

"The better to see you with, my dear." Deadshot replied as he dropped to the ground. Oddly enough, it was true. He could see each individual beat of a humming bird's wings or shoot the wings off a fly at a hundred paces with the help of his mask's auto-senses. Not to mention the blank look was only to throw people off. He could see through the mask. "Besides, it makes me look gentlemanly, don't you think?"

As he bantered, Deadshot took a quick look over the scene, wondering what his much boasted about senses could tell him just from first glance.

Investigate: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]
Misc.: [roll2]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The armored vigilante nods to both Walker and Bullock - his gaze lingering slightly on the former - before smiling under his mask at Deadshot's repartee. "Very," he says. "Lieutenant Walker, Lieutenant Bullock, it's a pleasure to be working with you again. Could you fill me in on whatever details you've uncovered?" He turns back to Deadshot. "Thanks again for getting me back to base two weeks ago. My associates send their regards." With that, he, like Deadshot, scans the room. Although his gaze is unmodified by technology, he might be able to pick up on something useful or interesting anyway.

Actions:

Move action: none.
Standard action: examining the room for clues/evidence and attempting to discern connections.
Search: [roll0]
Investigate: [roll1]
Current Polymath Allotment: Detective - Skills: Investigate +8; Notice +4; Search +8.
Misc. roll: [roll2]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate sat up in her bed, clutching her covers to her chest. She thought she heard gunfire; then she realized it was only the pounding of her heart in her ears. She turned her gaze to her nightstand, and its drawer, and its former contents; she had removed Renee's gun after she realized Gotham didn't need an avenger, but she felt its weight this night even in its absence. She ran a hand through her short red hair, her short nails scratching her scalp as the dream's events replayed in her mind's eye over and over. Even before her trip to Israel five years ago, she'd had quizzically vivid dreams, which only intensified after she met her teachers, gone through their strict training regimen, learned their ancient ways. And now, back home in Gotham...she still rarely understood them, at least in the moment.

She knew the visions, though - she wouldn't be able to sleep, not after an episode like that. She had to get up, do something. She threw on a robe, grabbed an earbud and headed to the kitchen. She tuned the bud to start scanning police frequencies; since sleep would not come to her this evening, she would have to find some work to busy herself. She was in the middle of making herself a smoothie when she caught Gordon's voice on the radio, ordering Bullock to the LexCorp Gotham office. "Anything Gordon would send Bullock to without clear orders has got to be something worth looking into. Looks like I'm suiting up."

She headed back towards her room, and looked up to see a young blonde woman staring down at her, arms crossed. "I'm coming this time."

"Like hell you are, Bette. You've got school in the morning. I'm working solo tonight."

"Oh, come on, Kate! Who had your back when you were cornered by Croc? Who was it that totally saved your ass when Freeze had you dead to rights? And who was it that knew the name of the song that Rebecca Black sang? "

"You want to play this game, Bette? Who was it that got captured by Ivy back in No Man's Land? You want to help the fight? Then you fight on my terms, and that means you fight smart. Part of being my niece means you have to keep up appearances, and you're not going to be able to perform in school if you suit up as Rhetoric every night!"

"This is unfair, Kate. You've got responsibilities too."

"Which I'll meet. That's my decision. This is *not* up for debate, Bette."

Bette threw her arms up in the air, and stormed off back to her room. "I wonder if the Birds of Prey are hiring..." she muttered.

Kate hated to crush the girl's spirit, but it had to be done. Bette was too impulsive, and wasn't a trained detective yet. At best, the girl would only be in the way of the investigation. If push came to shove, then she might need Rhetoric's help - if she didn't, then there's no need to involve the girl.

At last, Kate stood before her closet. She put on her work clothes - fedora, trenchcoat, suit and tie, sturdy boots. Finally, she removed the most important part - a preserved piece of Pseudoderm, the miracle artificial skin that KaneTech had purchased while she was back in Israel. She pressed it tightly to her face, and exposed it to the gas kept in her earrings - the gas filled her bedroom, and profoundly changed her appearance. Her red hair became a flat black; her suit and clothing turned a light blue; her face disappeared behind the skin. Katherine Kane, Gotham socialite was gone. The Question remained in her place.

She raced across town, finally coming to LexCorp's building. She stole into the facility, sneaking past the perimeter that the GCPD had placed on the scene. She had heard the cops describing what they saw inside and where - Kate made her way towards the rent-a-cop's body. When she was coming around the corner, she heard Bullock (God, she hated that man.) saying something about "going half-blind because he worked with his hands too much." After the night she'd had thus far, she couldn't resist sniping at the slob. She walked around the corner, her hands in her trenchcoat pockets, the brim of the fedora lowered slightly. "Please, Detective Bullock - when was the last time you had a date with anyone besides Rosie Palms?" It was juvenile, it was bitchy - but dammit, it felt right in that moment.


[roll0]

[Terron]

Luigi took a moment to feel the breeze in his face. He was wearing his old black suit, his white charol shoes and his hat. Smiling to himself, he entertained imagining how his family would have received him, had he stayed in the Mafia. Probably they'll had busted him out. Probably they'll had him killed after that, on a very vendetta way, for some stupid old offence.
Never the less, the Italian neighbour was they only place were people knew him. He needed people that knew him in order to ask favours.
Five years ago, he thought he could change a life of crime and murder for that of a vigilante, and that no one would care. He learned the hard way, that there's nothing easy when you are trying to make up for your sh*t. And Luigi had a big pile bad actions to get rid off. However, after 5 years in the prison, and the information he provided to the police about the activities of the mafia, that pile was now smaller than ever.
But it was not only making up for his mistakes, he had promised to himself and to the memory of Rene, to do things right, to make what she was trying to do when she was cut down, make Gotham a safer place.
But he needed some gear to do that, and based on past experiences, he needed a way to conceal himself. He didn't want another 5 years of prison.
The next frame shows Luigi in the Italian neighbour, walking into a hunting store. He walked around, watching the products. When his eyes went over a firearm, flashes of memories stroke him: The face of the mobster. His wicked smile. The gun, pointed at Rene's head. The sound. The blood.
The voice of the storekeeper took him out of his trance.

Luigi walks down the street, with his bag and new bags with the things he manage to get. He unlocks the door of a small apartment building, and disappears behind the door.
The ex mobster doesn't sleep that night. He works all night, and the next day. Only flashes of light came from his half closed window, casting strange shadows outside. Eventually, the lights die off, and atop of the roof of the building, those with knee eyes could see a slender figure, clad in a black trench coat. He has a wide rimmed black hat and a white scarf that covers his face, and waves in the chilly wind of the night. The next second, the figure is gone; the Black Balestratore banishes into the dark nights of Gotham.

[industrious]

Bullock

He stares at the Question for a long, hard moment.

"Since my wife was killed by the Smiler. I've lost my wife, my kid, and the best damn partner I've ever had-no offense, Katie." he says, referring to Walker.

"So if you freaks are fine with playing dress-up and not letting your loved ones get caught in the line of fire, don't go crying to me. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a perimeter to check."

...Damn. Looks like the Question struck a nerve, there.

Luigi

(Please remember to post an unmodified d20 at the end of each post)
[roll0]

The underground rumor mill moves quickly. A death at Gotham's LexCorp gets the man back to the rest of the party.

Investigation (everybody)

The corpse was a wreck; his entire chest cavity had caved in, destroyed and cooked. Those who take a closer look (result of either 15 or higher; use the d20 roll and add your Investigate bonus if you didn't make a check), can see that it was, indeed caused by explosives; the blast pattern is unmistakable.

That being said, the far more interesting clue is what the culprit had placed, grotesque as it might seem, inside the victim's chest. A paperback copy of "The Time Machine" by H.G. Wells, with the name "Johnathan Faddis" written on the inside cover.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Phew, nice shooting there, Question. Gunning for my title are you?" Deadshot said in an admonishing sort of way as Bullock walked off. Harvey Bullock was a huge pain in the ass, but he was also a good cop most of the time. It was a shame what had happened to his family and his partner. Things like that were one of the many reasons Deadshot had chosen to dress up in such a silly costume and take it to the bad guys.

Letting it drop there, he turned toward the body. He wasn't a forensic guy, but he didn't know of any guns that made holes that big. Whatever had happened to Mr. Rent-a-Cop it had been messy. Then, to top it all off, someone had used him as a bloody footlocker to store an old book. Of course it had to mean something, but Deadshot was finding himself too grossed out to think it all over at the moment. Instead, he just took it all in, hoping that he'd have a revelation later when he mulled over what he had gathered. "Did the GCPD get anything back on the name inside the cover? Javier Faddis?" he asked Lt. Walker.

[roll0]

[industrious]

Deadshot

While the name is unfamiliar, the method is. Such bizarre behavior involving the book only pointed to two supercriminals, and the first one never worked alone if he could help it.

Which meant that the answer to the question "who killed this man" was simple enough: Arthur Brown, AKA the Cluemaster.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Well done." Katherine says evenly, not breaking her gaze with the Question. "Perhaps you'd like to kick a puppy on your way out, just for eveness?" It's clear from her restrained language and general lack of swearing or shouting just how deeply, deeply furious the policewoman is, and there's the sense that she's holding herself back only because she fears she wouldn't stop, and there's more important stuff to be done.

Breaking off her gaze with the faceless mask only reluctantly, Katherine turns her attention to the crime scene. It's a well-known fact, or at least within the police department, that when it comes to the scene of a freak job the head of the MCU is generally second only to Allen or Essen themselves. She gets down and close to the body, careful not to touch it, but otherwise unworred - those on the MCU tend to develop a tough stomach quickly, or not at all.

"Standard freak M.O." She says after a while, perhaps unaware of the new audience to her standard crime scene lecture, and just how applicable this could be to them. "Grand, gory, ineffiecent, using a boom when they could've just used a gun or a knife. The costume, the gaudy name - not a professional criminal, any of these guys. It's not about doing the job best as you can and getting away, it's meant to get our attention, so it's either a lure into one of their elaborate plans or a showy distraction. We'll have to search this office throughly."

Snapping some gloves on, Walker carefully fishes the book out and places it on the side for when the labs come while she answers Deadshot's question. "Arthur Brown, Cluemaster, genius idiot like most of them. Not generally dangerous on the freak scale until his plans start messing up andhe panics, as a rule." Messy job done, she snaps off the gloves with some relief and drops them to the side, and then stands up.

"Most I can tell from a glance." She says, looking around the office and at the body. "Give me a moment to get a deeper look."


Investigation roll: [roll0]

[Terron]

Luigi followd the lead to the Lexcorp building, not before making some rumour checking on what some of his contacts knew about this dead man. After that, he sneaked in, and beamed up the stairs, to find th assembled group.
The Black Balestatore appreared in the rooftop, in a blink of an eye. "Buongiorno amici, perhaps I can be of assistance on this matter."

Gather inf: 29, Contacts feat allows me to take 20 on the first GI roll for the victim.
Streetwise knowld: [roll0] on the victim
Gather inf roll for Cluemaster as he encounter his name for the first time (Well informed feat): [roll1]
Dice: [roll2]

[industrious]

Luigi

You don't have twenty minutes to spare, but you manage to get a few details. The man is clean; a few speeding tickets but nothing big. Finished high school with mediocre grades, divorced one time...nothing really especially interesting about him. Just the wrong place at the wrong time.

The Cluemaster is a two-bit Riddler-knockoff who leaves deliberate clues at crime scenes due to a mental compulsion. He also has a daughter.

Katherine Walker

There really isn't much more that you can tell without further equipment. You find some loose hair inside the book, but that's about it.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

There were times Kate was thankful to have her Pseudoderm mask - as she watched Bullock's slovenly form retreat, she felt her cheeks burn beneath the false skin, and realized this was one of those times. She turned the collar of her trenchcoat up, hiding her flushing ears as well. "You're both right, that was out of line. I'll find a way to make it up to Det. Bullock."

She began to focus on the task at hand, half listening to Walker drone out her theories about Brown, half lost in her own inner monologue. Dammit, Kate, you know better than than to antagonize Harvey like that. That dream's got you rattled pretty hard. Need to place it in context - what does it mean? As Walker continued her speech, The Question interrupted. "Wait, Brown's a high-school drop out. Do we think he's got the smarts to beat LexCorp's top-of-the-line security? I mean, this guy's a former game show host. I've never known him to be able to have any serious hacking skills. " All the while, The Question examines the rest of the area for clues, the light of binah glowing from where her left eye would be.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

Random Roll: [roll0]

[Terron]

Tilting his hat a little bit to the right, Luigi says "This poor guy just was in the wrong place at the wrong time I guess, there's nothing special about him, no criminal history, no good in anything, mediocre life for the most part, probably just a random victim." he takes a moment, staring at the body, waiting for the reactions of the others, if any. Then, as someone who isn't really interested on a subject, he says, "You know the Cluemaster has a daughter, eh?" without taking his eyes from the body.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

The red monocle landed on the new guy and Deadshot's wristols were up and tracking before his boots hit the ground. He lowered them a fraction at the man's amiable greeting, but continued to keep that eye on him. "Who's this bozo? And is it supposed to hurt my feelings that the Lieutenant keeps throwing the 'F' word around?" Deadshot wondered aloud, ever flowing with the witticisms. However, there was a crime to be solved, too. He focused on what the Question had said.

"Okay, so you're saying Cluemaster (bater) has a partner...maybe. Or maybe he just got his hands on some stolen tech that did the data mining for him. Who do we know that could have helped him out in either case? We should also pay visits to the local information fences and see who he might try to sell this info to. Also, if he's developed a ruthless streak large enough to blow this guy's guts all over the room just for catching sight of him we need to be ready for anything similarly crazy and lethal when we catch up to him." he ruminated.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"That's exactly my point, Deadshot. Cluemaster's a lot of things, but I've never seen any crime scene of his that looked like...well, this. It could be his psychoses have made him more unstable. It could be a second person. It could be a lot of things.

"How about this Javier guy? I've never heard of him. And why 'The Time Machine?' Is someone perhaps showcasing DeLoreans?"

[Terron]

[/COLOR]
"Who's this bozo?"

"You can call me the Black Crossbow" the man behind the white scarf-mask says, simply. "I'm here to aid you, not to hinder you or hurt you in any way, you can rest assured." he adds, eyeing Deadshot's arsenal of guns weary. "I have some contacts, perhaps I can get some interesting information about the location of Cluemaster, or the identity of his mysterious ally." he offers.


[roll0]

[industrious]

People still conducting investigations

There really isn't much more to be found on the scene.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The Question sighed - she was hoping that Brown had slipped up and left additional evidence to his next movements, but the sephira binah revealed nothing. "Brown's covered his trail well. Unless you all find something I missed, looks like we need to gather human intelligence. Gender bias or mixed doubles, this time?"

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine quickly lays the hairs out of the book by the side, where the forensics guys can find them quickly. She's too good a cop to ignore the fact that the freaks are making pretty good points, but she limits her compliments to a grunt. She's still thinking as she stands up.

Her thoughts are interrupted by The Question's query onto as how to split up. Katherine bites back much harsher words, teeth literally clamping shut on them before she speaks them out loud. If nothing else, working through the office politics of being head of the MCU, otherwise called the Freak Squad, has done wonders for the policewoman's temper or at least her control on it. "Best you go with Deadshot, or someone not me." She snaps, and tries not to remember a time long ago, where Bullock had tried to comfort her with Montoya's brew, after her assassination attempt on Luigi. "I'm still not pleased with you. I want Ly- Lock-Up with me, so we can keep an eye on this new guy." Her hand flips up to point accusingly at the 'Black Crossbow'. It's long been the MCU - and her - policy that with these freaks around, it's better to have them inside pissing out than outside pissing in if they're ready to help, but that doesn't mean she has to like it. "You're on trail period, buddy. Do something I don't like and you don't work with us again."

Threat over and done with, Katherine turns her mind to the problem. "Lock-Up," She still can't say those code names seriously "You've got contacts in bussiness and tech somewhere, or how else do you get all those wonderful toys? Find out if there's a vendetta against Luthor that might explain this, and see if there's any news of someone who could hack his security. After that, we're going to have to do some investigating - I propose one of our groups takes a look at finding Brown's recent locations and any clues there, while the other looks at why he's changed his M.O so much. Unhinged more, or something worse?"

She spits on the floor. "Goddamnit, don't you ever miss the days when things were so simple? Sometimes I do."

[Terron]

Luigi smiles behind his white scarf, Walker was still the same. Or at least, what little he knew about here wass unchanged by five years of fighting crime. And now he was on trial, what would happen if the policewoman knew who he was? Would she get him in again? Doubtful, she didn't after Montoya's death. "Sure thing, you are the boss around here apparently." he replies. When contacts are mentioned, he raises his gaze from the corpse, but says nothing, he already mentioned his contacts, and if they forgot about it, perhaps it's better. Contacts in the underworld would not be regarded very well by the police.
"I didn't perform very well on the simpler days." he adds instead "But I certainly remember them."

[industrious]

LexCorp

Forensics eventually arrives, and while most of the party works outside the law, they realize that hindering the boys in white coats would hinder, not help the investigation. A nearby rooftop serves admirably as a place for them to finalize their plans, and begin the next leg of their investigation.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"Why don't you three look into Brown and his last known residence - his parole officer should have a record of where he's staying, so that'd be easier for you to gather, Lieutenant. Deadshot and I can look into his MO. Also, we should ask around about this Johnathan Faddis. Might as well start playing Cluemaster's game while we try to find a way to break through it."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The large, armored vigilante stares intently at the newcomer. Something about him registers as familiar, a dull buzzing at the back of his head, but with the scarf covering his major features it's hard to tell. Maybe something about the man, his movements or his actions, will jog something loose. Time will tell. He returns his gaze to Walker and ignores her slip, focusing instead on her instructions. He nods in agreement. "Right," he grumbles, in response to their keeping an eye on the Black Crossbow. And then: "Of course someone's going to have a vendetta against Luthor - he's a corporate powerhouse; very few of them are clean, and Luthor's not. But I'll check my contacts for something specific." When they all relocate to the nearby rooftop, Lock-Up nods to the Question. "Good idea. I'll have my associates run searches on that, too."

[Terron]

Luigi nods "Power corrupts, that is for certain." he agrees. "Especially the kind of power that Luthor has."

[industrious]

((Right. Time to get this game moving again))

Katherine Walker

Her radio squawks, and she can hear Gordon on the other end of the line.

"Walker, this is Gordon. I'll need to back at the station as soon as possible."

Lock-Up

His own police scanner crackles.

"Lock-Up. This is Dent; I know you listen to our transmissions. I want to talk with you at City Hall."

Everyone Else

With that, the rest of the group decides to split up, deciding to persue their own investigations either seperately or in groups.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Shortly after their meeting on the rooftop disbanded, Lock-Up leads the Question and the newcomer, the Black Crossbow, to the Paddy Wagon. He had made some recent modifications to the vehicle, most of them cosmetic. Where it had once been a massive armored car, outfitted with sophisticated technology and anti-persual weaponry, now it was a massive armored car outfitted with sophisticated technology and anti-persual weaponry, that shared the color scheme of his costume, that being iron gray, dark blue, and silver. It was now more instantly recognizable as his. Sometimes getting peoples' attention could be a good thing. Shortly after the three of them are safely seated, with the Question in the passenger's seat and the Black Crossbow on one of the two benches in the back, the Paddy Wagon's radio crackles to life:

"Lock-Up. This is Dent; I know you listen to our transmissions. I want to talk with you at City Hall."

A grim smile forms behind his mask and he glances over, apologetically, towards the Question's featureless face. "Sorry," he grumbles. "The investigation's going to need to wait. In the meantime, tell me what you know about Luthor. Start from the beginning, and pretend I don't know anything about him already." He guns the engine and, leaving the sirens silent, drives off towards City Hall, the Paddy Wagon handling smoothly despite its large bulk. It's rather like its driver in that regard.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"Not a problem," The Question said with a small sigh. "Gives us some time to run through some scenarios of what might be going on."

"Lex Luthor, CEO of LexCorp, the largest technology corporation on the planet. Once went by 'The World's Smartest Man,' before he realized that was too narcissistic, even for him. He's a self-made man, rising up from Metropolis' Suicide Slums to become the major player in the tech industry. Entertainment, robotics, manufacturing, biomed, you name it - if it's high-tech, you can bet LexCorp's got its fingers into it. Their stock peaked five years ago, right around when the Big S showed up in Metropolis. Since then, Luthor's gained a reputation from being involved in less-than-legal enterprises. Nothing's ever been proven, though not for lack of trying from the Planet. Along with Wayne Enterprises and the Kane Foundation, LexCorp helped to rebuild Gotham after the No Man's Land incident. I've always suspected Lex used that chance to establish underground research labs in Gotham during that time, but I've never been able to gather any evidence - at least, none that would stick.

"One thing that puzzles me about this is the style of the crime. I never pegged Cluemaster for being interested in raw data, which is all financial records are. Still, the chance to go over Luthor's unaltered books for the last twenty years would fetch a high price from the authorities - higher still from Luthor himself. Maybe Cluemaster stole the information, and plans on extorting Lex to keep his skeletons in his closet? And how did he kill that man so...well, creatively?"

The Paddy Wagon went over a rather rough patch of the road, so much so that the Question heard a brief Italian curse come from the back of the vehicle. She smirked beneath her Pseudoderm, then turned up the police scanner to help obstruct the conversation she and Lock-Up were having. "Do you know anything about this Black Crossbow? If he doesn't work out, I might sue him for costume infringement. Suit and trenchcoat is my style."

[roll0]

[industrious]

City Hall

The new building is almost finished, nearly a year and a half after No Man's Land. Delays with the firm responsible for shipping the marble that formed the outer surface had kept the atrium dome from being complete; a simple tarp kept the area from being open.

Dent is in his office, waiting for Lock-Up.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

He listens intently to the Question as she lays out Luthor's history. Most of it he already knew, but it helped, sometimes, to have someone else do the talking while he worked things over in his head. "I doubt Cluemaster has altruistic intentions planned for the data, so I agree that extortion is his most likely motive, at least for now. However, this being Cluemaster we're talking about, it's probable that this is just one piece of a far larger scheme. In fact, the date might not even be an end goal - it may serve to lead us to something else." He thinks for a moment. "And as for Luthor's hidden research labs, that's something that we can look for later. I'll have my people on it."

He glances over at her when she adjusts his radio, but nods when she brings up their fellow passenger. "I have my suspicions," he says, "but nothing concrete. The way he moves, his body language, and his bravura, the way he speaks, it all reminds me of someone I've met before. But he's wearing a mask for a reason, and he's willing to help us. Right now, at least, it doesn't matter who he is as much as what he's doing." He shrugs. "I could look into it, for you, but that would defeat the purpose of a secret identity. I don't think that it's very professionally courteous." He smiles, then, beneath his mask. "As for the costume, you'll need to bring that up with the Phantom Stranger."

As they approach City Hall, their conversation dies down. Bolton parks and kills the engine before turning to the Question. "I won't be long," he says. "Keep an eye on the rookie. If you need me, start the siren." He points out the switch. "I'll hear it." With that, he steps outside and heads into the building to meet with Harvey Dent.

[industrious]

Lock-Up

Dent's office is notoriously spartan. There are no trophies or commendations; the only decorations on the walls are shelves and, on his desk, a small framed photo of his ex-wife. The photograph, in this case, face down.

Speaking isn't particularly easy for Dent; he can still give stirring speeches, but has little energy left for questions afterwards. As such, he skips the usual introductions, launching directly into the issue at hand.

"I've been hearing some concerns by various organizations about how you're treating the people you have in your...custody."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Don't look at his face don't look at his face I mean look at his face but don't look like you're looking at his face...

"Good afternoon to you, too, sir," he says, his voice raspy but not the terrifying growl that he reserves for criminals. He meets the District Attorney's eyes. Doing so prevents him from looking anywhere else. "I assure you, Mr. Dent, that those criminals placed under my charge are being treated fairly." He looks away, at the empty shelves that line the walls. "Their lives aren't fun by any stretch, or easy, but if they wanted fun and easy lives they'd have taken up some other line of work." His eyes find the face down photograph. "I have built my facility, and run it, along the very same guidelines that are adhered to by all of our nation's prisons. In a side-to-side comparison I think that you would find my operation preferable to that of Blackgate. Make no mistake, sir, that any rumors that exist today merely extend from the same ignorant naysaying that has plagued my operations since the beginning. While I admit that the Slammer is a prison, and that the people within are being punished, the Slammer is not a dungeon, nor are they being tortured."

His eyes rise up to meet Dent's. "I provide this city with a very important service, Mr. Dent, at great personal expense to myself. We both know that neither Blackgate Prison nor Arkham Asylum are properly equipped to deal with the kind of people that the Slammer was designed to contain. You have trusted me thus far, sir, with protecting the people of Gotham City from those that would do them harm. I ask that you continue trusting me, not only with that, but with the follow-through: the successful rehabilitation of Gotham's metahuman criminals."

His gaze lingers, and then slides away, passing over the uninjured side of the District Attorney's face. "If you have any further concerns, I ask that you join me for a tour of the SS Halsey at your earliest convenience, so that I might put those fears to rest. I may not be a warm and fuzzy person, sir, but I'm not a monster. I have devoted my adulthood to helping people; I would like the opportunity to prove my good intentions."

[roll0]

[industrious]

Dent

He raises his hand.

"I know this, and I trust that you're treating your criminals fairly. But the organizations pressuring me want to be sure, and as a former Gotham DA, you understand that I am almost always skeptical."

He straightens, and speaks reluctantly.

"Because of this, and because I have a very busy schedule, I would ask that a third-party psychologist examine the conditions, conduct interviews with some of the inmates, et cetera."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

There is a moment where he nearly refuses, citing the incompetent, coddling inefficiency of Arkham's psychiatric personnel as his reason, but he chokes it down and nods his head. It would be likely that they wouldn't see eye to eye with him, that they might question his methods, but he had improved his system of rehabilitation by leaps and bounds. That said, prisoners lie.

"If that's how it's going to be, sir, then that's how it's going to be," he says.

"When can I expect his visit?"

[roll0]

[industrious]

Harvey Dent

"It's a she, actually. Dr. Harleen Quinzel, from Harvard's Psychology Department. She's going to fly in next week."

Dent reaches for a glass of water, drinks it.

"I'll contact you then. Thank you, Lock-Up."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The vigilante smiles.

"One week? Good. That gives me time to dust the place."

He smiles beneath his mask and raises a hand to his forehead, saluting the former district attorney.

"If that's all, sir, I'm currently in the middle of an investigation."

[roll0]

[industrious]

Harvey Dent

"Fair enough. Keep up the good work."

He returns the salute.

"Dismissed."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

"Thank you, sir."

Without another word, the vigilante turned around and left the office behind.

Before too long he reunited with his companions in the Paddy Wagon.

As he slid into the driver's seat and buckled himself in, he released a tired sigh.

"Bureaucracy," he muttered.

Before gunning the engine and maneuvering the van out of the parking lot, he turned to the Question.

"How do you make your masks?" he asked.

[Terron]

Luigi had remained silent for the time Lock Up was speaking with Dent in the Town hall. He didn't know what to expect from the faceless vigilante, or if trying to struck a conversation was actually a good idea.
When the driver returns, he leans forward, looking at each for a few seconds.
"So... where to now? It seems the three of us have contacts around the city that might provide some useful information."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

When the Black Crossbow sticks his head between the two front seats, Lock-Up glances down at him before returning his vision to the road. Although she handled well despite her bulk, maneuvering the Paddy Wagon through crowded Gotham City traffic at eighty miles an hour required a great deal of concentration. "I can contact my sources remotely," he explains to the new vigilante, "so I'm covered. I'll make my calls when we get to wherever it is we're going, which depends on you two." He chuckles. "Just tell me where you need to be and I'll get you there ASAP." He makes a sharp turn, causing the Paddy Wagon to tilt, ever so slightly, onto only two of its wheels before again resting on all four. "Now get back in your seat and strap yourself in. I don't want to have to scrap you off the upholstery."

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

While Lock-Up was busy with Dent, The Question had pulled out a small notebook to write down her thoughts on the case. She slips it back into her coat pocket as the vigilante returns. She smiles beneath her mask as he begins to maneuver the Paddy Wagon away from City Hall. "Sorry, it's a bit of a trade secret. Unless you'd like to tell me how you modified an armored car to run silently?"

"As for contacts, I'm a bit more traditional - I hit the streets, and start grilling my contacts for what they know. Our group is after Brown's possible hideouts, so we start wherever his parole officer set him up with. We might find clues to his plan there."

[Terron]

"Seems like my style too" says Black Crossbow, as he leans back to his seat, and fasts his seatbelt

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

He smiles behind his mask. "Trade secret? Fair enough. I was just thinking that they'd be good for disguises. I'm pretty sure I saw a movie about that once." He listens to her lay out their plan of action and nods. "Sounds good. That shouldn't be too hard to figure out." And then, to the Black Crossbow: "Good, we're all agreed. We'll head to his place of official, post-prison residence for a look-see." The Paddy Wagon cruises through the Gotham streets like a shark, all sharp angles and menace.

[industrious]

Lock-Up, Black Crossbow, and The Question

The half-way house is just on the edge of a bad part of town. It's very late, so no lights are on, but they can still see that it's well maintained, if rather old. Which meant, among other things, that it was capable of surviving the quake and No Man's Land.

[Terron]

"I'll check out this area before, if you want, I'm... of the sneaky type..." The man behind the scarf says.

[Assuming Question and Lock up have no objections:]

Silent like a cat, Black Crossbow jumps out of the car, and blends with the dim lights of the night. Once he surveys the scene, waves to the other two, if he sees no problems ahead.

[roll0]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The vigilante starts in his seat when the Black Crossbow opens the rear doors and, in a burst of motion, twists around in his seat and reaches back to prevent the coated man from leaping out into the darkness, but fails. Lock-Up swears under his breath and turns to the Question. "I didn't think that I'd need to lock him in. I can't believe that I needed to lock him in..." He sighs and leans back in his seat. "What do you think? Maybe this is good - it'll give him a chance to prove himself." He glances over at his companion but the blank, plain expanse of her face, as always, reveals nothing of her mood.

[roll0]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"He's eager to prove himself, that's for sure. I wonder where that comes from." The faceless woman undoes her safety restraints and opens the Paddy Wagon's door. "I'm going to follow him from above, just to make sure he's truly on our side. Something's fishy about him, I just can't put my finger on it yet." She rushes up a steel drainpipe to a building overhead, and follows the Crossbow through the shadowy alleys of Gotham.

[roll0]

[industrious]

Question and Crossbow

The alleys are quiet; it is too late in the evening for any victims to appear, and thus the predators have returned to their own homes, their pockets filled with ill-gotten gains.

The homes and apartments above, on the other hand, are less quiet. There is a spousal argument in one of them; the two can hear the couple shouting. Then, the sound of broken glass; a whiskey bottle is thrown out the window, and smashes onto the wall. Unfortunately, The Black Crossbow doesn't move out of the way in time; the shards cut at his trenchcoat.


Please post your Just in Case rolls. You never know when they'll come in handy.

[Terron]

"Porca misseria..." mutters Luigi, as the glass and cheap whisky splash over his coat.
He looks up, trying to see if he can make something out of the apartments that me might have lost.

Notice: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]
Just in case roll: [roll2]

[industrious]

Luigi

Nothing really. He can tell which apartment the bottle came from, but it doesn't seem too important.

The way to the house is clear, and the house itself appears shut down for the night.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Gordon!" The police at the station had become used to this cry by now, having heard it every time when the Major Crimes Lieutenant found something that pissed her off enough about the commissionaire to seek out his company so that she could shout at him. After a while, they had become quite good at telling the difference between the mood in each shout. One 'Gordon!' might mean something along the lines of 'I'm pissed at office politics so I'm taking it out on you in case it means you'll do something' while another might mean 'I'm in the middle of overseeing a triple homicide, a drug bust and the arrest of a street-level freak and I'm far too busy for whatever it is you want me to do.'

This 'Gordon' was much simpler, more along the lines of 'you have information for me, so give it.' This information was passed along the people working there, and there was a general relaxing now that it was clear there wasn't going to be another shouting match in these halls.

"Come on, freak." Katherine mutters to the idiot behind her. As freaks went, Deadshot was fairly okay, less annoying than Question and less destructive than Lock-Up, but also less constructive and much more theatrical than either. Therefore, he occupied much the same slot in her mind as a particularly noble kind of idiot, not as bad as the rest of the idiots but still to idiot for her to really like, even if he was quite good at talking back and general macho bantering.

"The twerp's place is just through here, so try not to make too much of a scene." She mutters behind her. "And remember - you're not officially in this building, okay? You're out there on the street doing freak stuff to other freaks. I'm just taking you along here - unofficially - because you're not that stupid."

They reach the door to where Gordon will be waiting. Katherine sighs and speaks back over her shoulder. "That was a compliment." She explains. "Don't let it get to your head. You read?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot was busy enjoying all of the stares and pointed fingers he was getting as he walked, heavily armed and masked, through a crowded police station. The grin under his mask wasn't visible, but it came through in his body language. When Lieutenant Walker looked back over her shoulder he had somehow managed to acquire a mug of coffee with "POLICE, Give Me Your Donut Now" written on it, and was sipping at it through a mask pulled up to just under his nose. He swallowed and touched a mock salute to his forehead with his free hand. "Oh, really? I almost didn't hear you through the onslaught of derisive name-calling." This time when he grinned it was perfectly visible.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

As used to costumed freaks as the Gotham PD is, having one of them right in their mist is probably the reason for the expanding circle of emptiness around the pair, especially as the freak might charitably be called a walking armory. Another reason might be the seething detective. Gotham police knew how well Katherine got on with freaks, despite being practically one of them herself.

Lieutenant Walker glared. Given that this was her standard expression, it really didn't have much of an effect on Deadshot. "Close as a compliment as freaks get, anyway." She muttered, unsure whether it was to him or the empty air. "I mean, spandex. Who wears spandex?" She takes another look at Deadshot, and frowns as if an annoying thought has just struck her. "Bright red spandex? Haven't you freaks ever heard of camouflage? This is a city!"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Okay, first off: Not spandex. This is a top of the line mix of kevlar and other cool metals woven together into nearly cloth-like material that breathes like freaking cotton, lets me take a .45 directly to the FACE, and affords me enough maneuverability to breakdance." Deadshot said, pulling at his costume. "Second...they had a discount on red. Besides, it brings out my eye. What do you think I was going to wear? A black cape with stupid little ears on it? I'll have you know I strike quite an intimidating figure, thankyouverymuch."

Just in Case Roll(s): [roll0]
[roll1] (From last post.)

[Terron]

The Black Crossbow darts forward, he aims to move around the house, searching for any sort of traps or otherwise, hidden hazards.

JICR[roll0]

[industrious]

GCPD

Her cry goes unanswered, at least for now. Katherine's shouting had largely ensured that the Commissioner now simply waited for her to knock on his door or simply storm in before acknowledging her.

Katherine's office is down the hall from Gordon's, anyway. It was also slightly larger than the one she had started out with several years ago. It also had her name on painted on the frosted glass front.

Said door is currently open, and Katherine's desktop is currently being taken out by a leggy blonde in her mid-twenties, wearing an off-white blouse and denim jacket.

"Oh..." she says. "Um...hi?"

Lock-Up

It's been nearly ten minutes, and neither of them have reported back yet.

Question and Crossbow

Nothing. The area is clear.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Time passes slowly as the vigilante awaits the return of his comrades. Two minutes. Five. Eight. Ten. He sighs and unbuckles his seat belt. "Ready or not," he mutters, "here I come." He leaves the Paddy Wagon and locks the door before adjusting his belt around his waist. With a grumble, the masked man heads towards the building, casting a furtive eye to his surroundings.

Actions:
Standard Action: changing Polymath array to 'detective' mode.
Move Action: approaching the halfway house.
Notice Roll: [roll0]
Investigate Roll: [roll1]
JIC Roll: [roll2]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine stares around the office, back at the woman, then back to the office, and then to the woman. "Deadshot." She says. There appears to be a woman in my office, taking something of mine. So I have to ask her what the hell does she think she's doing?"

The lieutenant recovers, wipes her head, and mostly calms down. "Sorry. Bad day. So tell me what you're doing and maybe I'll not get all angry and shouty again, savvy?" She says. Casting a careful eye on the woman and her office, trying to figure out if anything is missing or out of the ordinary. "Put the desktop back for now, too. It's mine."


Investigation: [roll0]
Notice: [roll1]
Just In Case: [roll2]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot, currently using the opportunity to not-so-discreetly check out the leggy blonde, leaned on the doorframe and sipped his coffee. "I'm sure there has to be a good reason why she's trying to steal something in a crowded police station. By the way, hel-loo there...my name's Deadshot. What's yours? Steal here often?" he smiled roguishly.

JIC: 1d20=13 (http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/3058653/)

[industrious]

GCPD

"Believe me," she says. "I do not want to be handling this, either."

"Then you shouldn't have lost the bet, sweetie."

That particular voice comes from behind Katherine and Deadshot. Turning around, they see a short red-haired woman with green eyes tapping her nails impatiently.

"I'm going, I'm going! Slave driver..."

Barbara Gordon walks down the hall to the Lieutenant and the vigilante, hand outstretched.

"Hello again, Lieutenant. Deadshot. Sorry about the confusion; We're upgrading everyone's computers and installing our new Euthyphro server software. And the complaining blonde there is my partner, Dinah. She lost a bet, so she has to carry everyone's computers out."

"I'm so going to get you back for this."

"Would you rather be programming the computers?"

"...Oh god, no."

Barbara raises an eyebrow, turns back to Katherine.

"So how are things, Lieutenant?"

Katherine:

Gordon's daughter had been featured in some business magazine or other. She had skimmed the article just to shut the old man up; now that said daughter was here, she recalled the mention of someone named Dinah...

Additionally, Barbara's lying...well, she isn't telling the truth. Not the whole truth, anyway.

When Barbara used the word "partner," she wasn't referring just to business.

Deadshot:

Dinah Lance was mentioned in the article on Delphi Enterprises when they were listed as Start-Up of the Year by the Wall Street Journal. She was the one who actually managed the financial and business aspects of the business; Gordon was the technical genius whose winning of the Millennium Prize allowed Delphi to be created in the first place.

According to some follow-up research you did, she's also single.

[Terron]

Black crossbow starts to move back to the vehicle, but spots Lock up, as he approaches the house too. He moves next to him, nods, and whispers "Nothing in the surroundings, I didn't detect any traps or hazards. How shall we proceed?" Then after a few seconds, Luigi notices The Question is not there. "Where's your partner?"


[roll0]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The faceless vigilante followed the Black Crossbow as he made is search around the house. She almost felt bad following him, since he really hadn't done anything to warrant her paranoia, but something about him troubled her. When the man started returning to the Wagon, she headed back. "How shall we proceed?", he said. "Where's your partner?"

She swung back down to street level, landing near the both of them. "Right here. I didn't like the idea of being a sitting duck, even if the Paddy Wagon is as bulletproof as the big man says. As for how we proceed, I think we just head up to the window and see how hard it is to break into a halfway house. And let's move it - we're liable to attract attention the longer we stay out here."

[industrious]

Halfway House

The house is quiet; all the lights are out, and the doors and windows shut.


If you're going to break in, I'll need appropriate rolls. Disable Device and Stealth, but use your discretion; better to roll it explicitly and be safe than rely on Just in Case.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine's eyes flicked from Barbara to Dinah, and a small smile forms on her lips. Now, wouldn't that make the old man's hair turn, if he knew? She let out a chuckle under her breath at the thought. Suddenly, she remembered that there still was a woman running away with her computer, and turned away to yell.

"You'd best not mess with my computer!" Katherine shouted at the departing blonde. "It's got all my stuff in it! And case files and important things! You lose it and you are dead!"

Quietly amused, she turned her attention from Dinah to Barbara, and gave her an almost pleasant nod. Hey, Babs." She said. "Still got your head stuck in a computer, I see? Right now I'm trying to get some goddamn sense out of your old man." She grumbled, knowing that it would not have much effect. Barbara, along with Sarah, Allen, Bullock and sometimes pretty much everybody all seemed be laboring under the delusion that she liked the old man and kept Gordon's company for any other reason than that he was the idiot chosen by Dent to lead this excuse for a police force. Even MacDonald seemed to have joined the conspiracy, judging from the gentle reminder of Gordon's birthday that the girl had left on Katherine's desk. The Lieutenant had picked it up and put it in her pocket, because you couldn't have that sort of thing lying around and destroying your reputation, could you?

Katherine became aware that her thoughts were getting out from under her. She looked at Barbara. "So, same as usual." She said. "Though me and the freak - say hi, freak - are looking into this murder of one of Luthor's. There was some pretty computery stuff involved, so I might end up asking you for help on that one, if you can." She shrugged. "What the hell is it you're doing to my computer, anyway? And cut the jargon." Katherine added hurriedly.

[industrious]

Barbara Gordon

"No jargon? You're just trying to make my life difficult, Lieutenant."

She pouts a little, teasing.

"Basically, you'll be able to access database files faster, and they'll be organized better. Gotham's going to be the first police department with this software; it's going to be great. And besides. I only could get into computers because you saved my life all those years ago."

The short redhead leans in, forcing Kate to bend a little to hear her.

"Also, we need you to pick up the cake for Daddy's surprise party."

Barbara winks conspiratorially, and it's cute at how obvious it is. Walker doubts if she can actually keep a secret.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have computers to program and a partner in crime that needs to be kept out of trouble. Deadshot, feel free to come with if you want."

Gordon's Office

"Walker," Gordon nods behind his desk. "I don't suppose you've seen my daughter around, anywhere?"

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"In my office, mucking about with my computers." Katherine mutters. "What do you want her for? She seems busy."

The policewoman stands, her stick tapping impatiently on the floor. "You had something you wanted to tell me, sir?" She said. "Or was the call about Bab- Barbara?" She asks, slightly politely.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Hi, freak." Deadshot smiled as he finished his coffee and walked over to put it down on Walker's desk. (No coaster.) "Ms. Gordon, I would follow you and your friend anywhere. Not like there's a lot to do around here besides endure Lieutenant Grumpy's constant abuse." he said as he adjusted his mask back over his face. He had considered lurking outside of Gordon's office and eavesdropping on the conversation, or just crashing the meeting, but he figured if it was anything he needed to know Walker would tell him no matter what she thought about freaks. Besides...leggy blonde and gorgeous redhead needed him. How could he refuse?

[roll0]

[industrious]

Detective Gordon

"No...but I'm glad that you ran into her, anyway. She still remembers that you saved both of us from that fire years ago, you understand. She's quite fond of you for that reason."

The position of Commissioner hasn't changed Gordon all that much; he's still the same goody-goody that she remembers. Which could be better, but at least he wasn't corrupt like Loeb was. Or Miller, who had started out strong but then ended up completely crazy.

"She also seems to be hiding something from me...sorry. the idle musings of a middle-aged man, Lieutenant. Not what I called you in for."

He leans forward, spectacled eyes blinking.

"The Cluemaster killed that guard. I don't know why, but that's irrelevant. What is, is that I want you to take someone into protective custody just in case he decides that murder is addictive. Can you do that for me?"

Barbara Gordon

"She isn't that bad."

She likes Walker; the then-Lieutenant had saved her life several years ago. It's very hard to think of anybody who wouldn't think well of them, under those circumstance.

"And you remind me of a good friend of mine."

Dinah has set up a wall of computers, literally stacking them on top of each other to form a waist high barrier. With a single desk in the center, it's more like a fort than anything. The blonde is on her cell at the moment. In the middle of a call.

"...No, I will not go out with you!...No, I don't need a reason...I don't care...that does sound nice...but no!"

She hangs up furiously, unceremoniously tossing her phone onto the desk. Dinah stares at Deadshot, eyes narrowed.

"What is it about people from Star City? Are all the men there jerks?"

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Several possible responses flash through Walker's mind. Most of them involve swearing. "Well." She says blandly. "I suppose if that is what is needed, I'll do it. You wouldn't force this on me if it wasn't necessary. Just tell me who it is, why, what I should do and anything else I need to know, please."

She points back at the door behind her, apparently the bastion of calm. "And after that, permission to walk outside, please. I need to start swearing and hitting something and if I do it here I might be tempted to use your face." She shrugs. "Your choice. Sorry 'bout the temper."

JIC roll: [roll0]

[industrious]

Jim Gordon

"It's the Cluemaster's daughter. I need you to protect her, to make sure she's safe and...to support her, if you can. I don't doubt that that having a supervillain for a father is good on a young girl's psyche."

Gordon waves his hand.

"Permission granted. Though do try to behave around her, Lieutenant. She's only sixteen."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Your friend sounds like a charmingly handsome rogue, then, Barb. Good for him." Deadshot said before Dinah's tirade interrupted them.

"It's something in the water, I'm sure. Best stick to Gotham men who know how to treat a lady." he replied instantly. If her cool stare intimidated him he didn't show it. He could only form the largest of facial expressions through the material of his mask and get anyone to recognize it anyway. "Enchanted, by the way, Dinah. The name's Deadshot." he introduced himself, pulling off a theatrical, if slightly comical, bow and flourish. If he had a had he would have swept it across the floor.

[roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

The policewoman nods. "Will do, sir." She says. "I'll get her location from the front desk."

As Walker leaves, Gordon can hear a thump and a bit of the wall shakes, as if someone has just whacked their walking stick very hard into the other end of the wall there, swiftly followed by a long string of cursing comparing him to, among others, the illegitimate offspring of a dog with an oedipal complex and a two-legged goat. He sits back, and tries not to smile.

Walker stamps along the best she can, trying to look to find the stupid girl and wear of all her anger and energy before she met this bint and scarred her for life, probably, if her track record was any luck. Sighing, she mentally cursed Gordon, and the Cluemaster even more, for leaving behind a daughter for her to look after and being a twisted enough fu- fudgecake to possibly want to kill her.

Damnit, Gotham. This was why she couldn't have anything nice.

JIC roll [roll0]

[industrious]

Katherine

The receptionist looks at Katherine with a single graying eyebrow raised.

"She's actually in the holding cells now, Lieutenant. Got brought in here about half an hour ago. Last one on the right."

The holding cells are down a flight of stairs, and there isn't an elevator. Katherine descends, cursing all the way, and flashes her pass at the guards on duty. They...don't really notice, anyway, too busy with the baseball game to care. The really dangerous criminals didn't go to the holding cells, the murderers and the psychos and the freaks, but still...

In any case, the cells have their typical fare. Some drunks sleeping it off. A pickpocket proclaiming his innocence. A gang of robbers (in separate cells, of course). A crazy street bum wearing a tattered brown coat and baseball cap, clutching a duct-taped box the size of a refridgerator.

That last one rushes forward as Katherine approaches, clutching the bars of his cell as he does so.

"You don't understand!" he cries out. "This universe is in danger!"

And then, walking down towards the end of the corridor, she begins to hear it.

I want your ugly
I want your disease
I want your everything
As long as it's free
I want your love...


Gordon was a horrible, horrible old man. He really was. Damn him for not telling her. And that horrible, off-key singing only gets louder as she gets closer.

The person in question is wearing purple...almost all purple, in fact. It's a freak outfit, too. A very familiar one. A long purple cloak with a pointed hood, and a plain black face mask underneath it. A utility belt with a thigh belt and a sash crossing over a shoulder. She's wearing pirate boots. And undoubtedly, a chipper expresssion under that mask.

"Hi Lieutenant Walker!" the Spoiler cries out. "Miss me?"

A quick death was too merciful for Gordon.

Barbara and Dinah

"He's a good guy. We dated briefly, but...it just didn't work. That's just life."

Dinah's little rant about Star City men is met with a giggle and snort by the redhead.

"Dinah Lance."

Her lips quirk in amusement at Deadshot's bow.

"Gotham's second-most infamous vigilante, depending on who you ask, anyway. On the trail of another archcriminal, or just molesting Lieutenant McGrumpy?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Only second-most infamous? I need to work on my game... Maybe I should bring a camera crew the next time I knock the Joker's lights out with a stun round." Deadshot said, stroking his chin thoughtfully and miming a pistol with the index and thumb of his other handt. He leaned his hip against the edge of Dinah's desk, careful not to upset anything she had stacked on there.

"Molesting Lieutenant Angrypants? I'd pull back a bloody stump if I tried. Besides, I'd much rather spend my time annoying you two. How goes the upgrade? Any way you could set me up with my own little login while you're at it?" he asked, mostly joking.

[roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"I hate this world and everything in it."

For a moment, Katherine's expression was a work of art. Then she turns 180 degrees and heads back the way she came. "I forgot the cell keys." She said, a blatant lie, but hopefully an excuse that would give Walker time to wait a moment and let Stephannie cool down.

When she comes back (far too soon) to open the cell, the two-minute wait has had barely an effect, and Walker tries to hold off the girl with her glare. "Hug me and I'll stab you." She promises. It's an empty threat. The girl probably thinks that that is because Katherine has a warm overflowing river of affection hidden underneath that grumpy exterior: Katherine knows it's because stabbing the girl would cause far too much paperwork to handle.

The policewoman delays further by working the rusty lock with her keys. "Your father's out and doing some serious stuff." She says grimly. "I'm going to have to ask you all you cane - all things useful you can tell me about him, and why his M.O's changed, and if he's been acting differently lately. Until he's gone, though, you're under witness protection, and that means-" Force the dreaded words out, force them out. "-....living with me. And there will be rules!" Katherine snaps in defense when the jail door, impatient enough with Katherine's delays to decide to do the job itself, springs open.

The policewoman swears, and braces for impact. "We're gonna have to talk about the witness protection too." She whispers from behind closed eyelids.

JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"Oh, Lieutenant, we are going to have so much fun together! We're going to beat up criminals, and watch movies, and catch my dad and..."

Katherine's eyes are closed as she waits for a hug that never comes.

"...you...don't want me around, do you? I'm just a burden, something you have to take care of."

She's still a teenager; any confidence and cheerful personality a mere mask over all sorts of wonderful insecurities.

Dinah and Barbara

"It's going well. Though some of these computers have so many viruses on them...and the detectives never delete their browsing history either..."

Barbara is typing on one of them, shaking her hand in disgust.

"And this software is coming out for the general public in a month. You can buy it then."

Dinah snorts at Barbara's blunt refusal.

"Sorry. Put her in front of a monitor and her eyes glaze over."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

"The Wagon's more tank than van by now, it's perfectly safe," he murmurs. "But I see your point. Let's get inside." He inspects the lock on the door. "Which one of us do you think's the best a picking locks? I'm not bad, but..." He holds up a hand, showing her. "Thick fingers. Makes it hard to - no, wait, hold on, I think I remembered to pack..." He pats the pouches on his belt and, despite their being made of reinforced Kevlar weave, feels what he was looking for. In a moment he's undone the clasp and holding out a lock release gun. "This! Hah, see that? Remember to tell Walker when next we see her: I'm not as destructive as she thinks I am. Instead of breaking the door down, I'm just going to shatter the lock." He smiles beneath his mask before glancing over at Luigi. "Unless, of course, our new companion here would like to take a shot at it?"

Actions:

Changing Polymath allotment from 'Detective' to 'Crimefighter'.
Waiting to confirm course of action.
Stealth roll: [roll0]
JIC roll: [roll1]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Like hell I want you!" Katherine snaps, and almost regrets it immediately. The old man would probably chew her out if he knew what an ass she was being here. Even for her, this was pushing it. "Look, I don't want anybody." She explains carefully. "Nobody but me's been in my house for.... too long, others say." Katherine awkwardly tugs at her necklace and looks away, trying not to feel embarrassed next to an idiotic sixteen year-old girl.

"Anyway." She snaps, still looking away. "Let's get you out of here for now. I need to talk to Bab-Barbara about some computer stuff, and after that..." She sighs, dreading the effect her words might have on the young girl. "I've got to go pick up a cake." She says.

[roll0]

[Terron]

Luigi shrugs. "I can try my hand at it, if you prefer, or" he says, taking another lock releasing gun out of the pocket inside his trenchcoat. "Seems we packed the same equipment." he smirks behind the white scarf.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

While Lock-Up and the new guy start showing off their equipment, The Question merely rolls her eyes behind her mask and climbs the fire escape to the floor where Brown's supposed to be residing. Checking to make sure the Cluemaster hasn't added any new security, she pulled out her lockpicking set - probably useless when trying to open a window, but it never hurt to be prepared.


Disable Device: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]
JIC: [roll2]

[industrious]

The Question

The window is easily unlocked, and the Question slips into the house while the two men compare equipment. Honestly, they should just pull them out and save themselves the excuse.

The room is empty, and appears at whoever lived inside it had only been there briefly. Less than a night, from the relatively pristine sheets.

Stephanie Brown

She hugs the Lieutenant then, gently, as if she's afraid that Walker is going to reject her.

"I'll be good. I promise."

Way to go, Walker. Damaged teenager to look after, with a father on the run, and she starts off by telling her she's unwanted.

"So...cake, huh?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"I meant a login to the police database, but whatever. It's only a little illegal, right?" Deadshot grinned beneath his mask. "I'd only use it to get bad guys, I promise."

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine stops fiddling with her necklace and tries to be rather less awkwardness. God, she was just praying for Killer Croc to burst in and attack or something, and that was even after last time, when they hadn't got the smell out of the station for days. "Just... a cake." She says. "For Gordon. My boss. Her daughter wants me to get it for her." The policewoman clears her throat and looks embarrassed. "Come on, let's get on our way to her. There's some things I need to ask her about."

As they're walking, Katherine turns and tries to make conversation with the girl. A little nervously, it turns out, because she can't remember anything about being a teenager in Gotham. What had she liked? Guys? Cops? Clothes? Guns? Girls? It seemed so long ago. "So, what idiotic have you been up to since I last nabbed you?" She asks. Wait, no. Gently goes it, Walker. Not so harsh. Find something different, talk about the case, talk about the case... "And how 'bout your dad? I need to find out why he's been acting differen-" No. Even worse.

Walker throws her hands up in the air, generally despairing of her ability to place foot firmly in mouth. "Whatever." She mutters. "Just tell me about the teenage stuff in your teenage girl life. I don't know how to talk to you!"

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The Question frowned as she surveyed the empty room, her displeasure hidden by the faceless mask she wore. She cleared her throat noisily enough to call attention to herself, and watched as the two boys looked up. "Anytime you're ready." She entered the room, and began to search. Once the others got up into the room she began, "By the looks of things, he's not been here for awhile. We're probably spinning our wheels here, but let's give it a quick search. Maybe we'll get lucky and find something."


Search: [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"Well, you know. The usual. School's been the way school is, and my teachers are all insane except for the cute biology teacher who could be a model. I got a few muggers and pickpockets over the last couple of weeks, and managed to get through the entire first season of The Grey Ghost, because the Grey Ghost is awesome..."

Thankfully, the mention of Gotham's most popular show gives Katherine something to actually talk about. Katherine's able to get into a debate over the rumors about the ghost getting a teenaged sidekick.

"I'm telling you, it's totally going to happen."

Barbara

"Talk to my father about that."

She sighs, rubs her temples, and pulls out the USB cable out from her computer.

"The computer illiteracy of the world sickens me."

"...I sicken you?"

"All the time."

Deadshot sees Katherine walking back from the holding cells, and along with the Lieutenant, the purple-clad form of the Spoiler.

"Hi Deadshot!"

The Question

Crumpled in the man's trashcan is a newspaper from several weeks ago, the headline circled prominently.

Gotham Tachyon Collider to Open

The date the apparatus was set to open was tomorrow; the collider would finished tonight.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Teenage sidekick? You wish. Kid, you're putting your fantasies into the show..." The voice trails off as Katherine catches sight of Deadshot and Barbara, and takes the opportunity to hide her brief bout of almost-friendliness by verbally jumping on Deadshot.

"Freak," Katherine warns, "If you make my life any more difficult in any way by in how you talk to this young girl, I am going to put my stick so far up your behind that I'll make your tongue waggle when I twist the handle."

She turns to Stephannie. "And he is not a role model. The reason why the Gray Ghost wins is because it's a show! Jeez, even I know that." Grumbling under her breath, she turns away with a muttered "Behave."

Looking at Barbara, she sighs."Your old man bagged me with the kid." She complains. "But enough of that. I need to know how to get information on how the Cluemaster could've got through Luthor's securit? I know you could've done it, but who else? Maybe brown had some hacker contacts, and they helped him with it, or he had some portable virius with him or something. I need a lead of some kind - and no jargon." She warns.

Then, she looks around to check that no-one is in earshot, and leans forwards fearfully and whispers. "Also, I need to know where to pick up the cake."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"What do I look like to you?" Deadshot answered Walker with indignation before immediately backpedaling. "Okay, don't answer that." he added quickly.

"Hey, sweetie. I'm really not as bad as Lieutenant Surly McCrabbyPants makes me out to be. Anyway, aren't you that Spoiler character?" he asked conversationally as he listened to Walker interrogate the computer nerd. (Even the whispered parts. Super-hearing!) He had no idea why Gordon would saddle Walker with some kid, but she had to be important to the case somehow if they were going to drag her around with them.

OOC: I'm just assuming that Deadshot doesn't know everything about every spook or vigilante swinging through the streets. It's likely he doesn't know about the Cluemaster's daughter unless she was mentioned previously and I just don't remember.

[industrious]

Barbara

"Contrary to public belief, Lieutenant, being a commended computer scientist does not make you a genius super-hacker."

Dinah laughs at the comment.

"Quiet, dear. You still use a typewriter for word processing."

"And proud of it!"

Shaking her head at her partner's antics, Barbara leans forward.

"The cake's at the Caveman Bakery, on 39th and Finger Street."

Stephanie Brown

"Spoiler Alert! The Cluemaster is going down!"

She strikes a pose as she says this, causing Barbara and Dinah to struggle not to giggle.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Fine." Katherine grumbles. "Tell me nothing, why don't you? You're supposed to be the computer person, this is your turf." Behind her, Stephanine strikes her pose. Katherine turns and sighs, and mutters something uncomplimentary as Dinah and Barbara start giggling.

"Not impressive, kid." She says. "You want to strike fear into the hearts of criminals, not be an idiot in a purple cloak and cape. You work real hard, you just might manage to be a idiot in a red-and-white suit." She shoots Deadshot an uncharitable glare. Not that she's given him any other looks so far.

"Anyway." She says, now that she's got the requisite bout of insulting over. "We should get going and do that whole take-down-your-dad thing, Kid. Go over some information on him in the car, and some rules on what you are and are not going to do when you are in my care." She fixes the kid with a glance as friendly as she can make it. "Deadshot," She says, not looking away. "You coming with us, or you got your own freak stuff to do? We're gonna pick up... something, and then place the kid somewhere safe or get on the trail, depending on if she tells us anything useful."

JIC: [roll0]

[Terron]

"Let's hope you are right." replies the former gangster, and starts looking about the room, searching for some clues that might help out in the investigation.

Notice: [roll0]
Search: [roll1]
JICR: [roll2]

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"Well...it's not like you're any better at it. I mean, I can actually run after criminals."

She pouts, then, even through the mask, Walker can tell.

"And it's eggplant, not purple, for your information. Purple would just be stupid."

She strikes a post once again.

"I am...the Eggplant Avenger! The Aubergine Queen! Quick-to the Police Car FOR GREAT JUSTICE!"

She strikes a pose once more, and dashes out of the room. A few seconds later, she peeks her hooded head back in.

"Also, I totally know where my dad's going to strike next. Come on!"

Luigi

There aren't any additional clues to be found.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"I'm coming with. This kid is a riot." Deadshot said, spurred into action by Stephanie's sudden admission that she knew what her dad was up to. "If she's telling the truth I think we'll have to pick up your little cake on the way back."

"Ladies, it has been a pleasure." he said in parting to Barbara and Dinah. He really wished he'd kept his hat because at that point he could only pretend to tip it.

[roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine freezes as soon as Stephanine mentions her leg, and Barbara draws in a breath as she waits for the resulting explosion. Luckily for the young girl, however, she quickly mentions the thought of a new Cluemaster heist, and runs off, leaving Katherine standing there a moment in confusion before setting off after both of the costumed freaks. "Couldn't you have said this earlier?' She yells.

The last thing Dinah and Barbara hear from the motley crew is "Drive? Drive? I'm not letting you drive. I've seen you drive. Your feet don't even always reach the floor..."

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"But I'm in Driver's Ed! I need the practice..."

She eventually acquiesces to Katherine's request.

"I call dibs on the radio, though."

The teenaged heroine quickly twists the knob, before Walker is able to object. The police car is quickly filled with pop music.


Who cares if you disagree?
You are not me
Who made you king of anything?
So you dare tell me who to be?
Who died and made you king of anything?


"And I only just realized where my father would be. You know, it's like when you're thinking about an algebra problem and staring at it and then BLAM, the solution hits you in the face? That just happened to me. We need to go to Wayne Labs."

Question, Lock-Up, and Crossbow

The only clue there is that circled newspaper. The Tachyon Collider is opening tonight at Wayne Labs.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

For all of Katherine's complains about the new girl's driving, she's not much better herself. The police car hugs the pavement as it wheels around a corner, alarm squealing like mad as the driver mutters sour offenses about pedestrians daring to try and have any kind of right of way on the road.

The worst part is, she's not even good at driving in a crazy way. Deadshot's already found out that a police car can stay on two wheels for an inordinate amount of time, especially if you gun the accelerator while doing it. The worst part is probably the way Stephanie chats nonchalantly while in the death-trap, as if this wasn't anything unusual.

Walker spares a glare for the radio and then refocusses her attention on the road as she swerves to avoid a car. At least her passengers are quiet here - she can't have Allen or Gordon or Sarah in the car while she's driving to a scene without occasional cries of 'Truck,' 'Truck!', 'Truck!!' 'Corner', 'Stop stop stop!', 'Please could you-' and once an 'ohmygodohmygodi'mgonnadiegonna die' which was the first and only time Josephine MacDonald had ever sat in the same car as her superior, even when there wasn't any rush to get to anyplace and Katherine obeyed all the lights and turn signals and stuff and even stayed a safe five miles under the limit, stupid girl.

Driving like this helped her think on her case, anyway. "Steph, explain your logic to me, please." She says, her brain too occupied to spare expend effort on her usual nastiness. "Be nice to be on the same page as you here, and see that we're going somewhere with this lead."

A truck came out from a side street, and Katherine pulled the wheel and then there was a lot of swerving and smoking and honking of horns and yelling and then, miraculously, they were all alive. "Trucks getting everywhere these days." She muttered. "Can't drive anywhere fast without getting one in my way. You were saying?"

[Terron]

"It seems oddly clear where we must head towards now." Luigi says. "Almost too easy..."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

After silently comparing the size of his lock release gun to Luigi's, the larger vigilante is pleased to note that, since he had built his own to fit comfortably in his much larger hand, his equipment is bigger. He shakes his head to clear it of macho distractions and begins to scale the side of the building to meet up with the Question. After examining the room, he nods his head. "Looks like you're right. He hasn't been here for a while." After reading the newspaper headline, he taps his chin with a finger. "What would Cluemaster want with something like that?" And then, to the Black Crossbow, "Maybe so, but it's the only lead we have."

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"Well, it's just obvious, isn't it? I mean, it's a tachyon collider."

Silence.

"Did any of you ever even watch Star Trek? Tachyons? That great particle that lets your travel back in time? Like time travel? Like in the Time Machine, the book my dad left behind?"

More silence.

"...all of you have to be culturally dead or something. Hey, are we going to call for more backup of the costumed variety? So we'd have The Gotham Five (guest-starring the Spoiler) versus the Cluemaster in: The Case of the Criminal Collider!"

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

'Well, for starters, it's a tachyon collider. If Wayne Enterprises can find definitive proof of the tachyon, then they've discovered the biggest game-changing idea in physics since a postal clerk determined that nothing could go faster than the speed of light. I'm not sure about time travel - at least not how H. G. Wells would imagine it - but superluminal particles could transmit information backwards through time. I can't think of anything else that would qualify quite as well as this. Only way to find out what Brown's up to is to check out Wayne Labs."

The Question headed back to the window, and headed out into the cool night air, tightening her trenchcoat around her. "We need to get in touch with Walker - she needs to know where we're heading. Let's get back to the Paddy Wagon."

[Terron]

Feeling the piercing look of Lock up, Luigi accomodates his hat lower, and follows the Question outside, his black trenchcoat flapping unnaturally heavier than normal clothes would. Still grabbing his hat by the rim, with his arm almost crossed in front of his face, he nods "To the Paddy Wagon then."


I'll make an instant Gather inf Check on Wayne and Wayne activities regarding to the subject to see what Luigi knows about him using Well Informed.
Gather inf: 1:[roll0]
2: [roll1]
JICR: [roll2]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Tachyon collider?" Katherine complains? Is this junk even real? Sometimes it seems the world just turned crazy on me when I wasn't looking." She complains, weaving in and out of traffic. The only thing she remembers about the collider was reading an article by some Dr Osterman on it, and the only bit that really stuck in her mind was the one in something-million chance of destroying the world, proving again that scientists would gladly pass up common sense for the chance to destroy the world. "What would your father want with that thing anyway?" She asks.

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"...I don't know. Maybe he's going to steal it; how big is it, anyway?"

Several tons, from the article Katherine read.

Crossbow

The tachyon collider is an experiment costing nearly a billion dollars; it hopes to definitively find, using solely Earth-based technology, the tachyon particle, which travels backwards in time.

There is, however, a very small chance that the Earth could explode if it is activated due to a theorized "chronal energy." The project has been protested by several groups for that reason.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"One day, kid, if we ever get you out of that stupid outfit, we might have to work on your detective skills so's you don't get yourself killed." Katherine muttered, eyes still on the road. "That thing weights several tons. I doubt superman could lift it without trying. Use your brain! 'f you have one, that is."

"Sabotage sounds more likely, because unless I've missed something he's not smart enough to use all this science stuff. You got any more light to shed on this, or you just gonna say something stupid again?" The policewoman casts a glance sideways as she says this. "Don't worry 'bout it, though. I'm used to stupid. Stick around with a lot of freaks, don't I, Deadshot?"

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"...That was mean, Lieutenant."


And Katherine can't help but feel bad at insulting the kid.

[ChronicLunacy]

"Yeah, way to go Lieutenant Sensitive." Deadshot added. He hadn't been speaking up mostly because he was being thrown around in the back seat due to all the crazy driving.

"Don't worry, honey. You've given us the best lead we've had on your dastardly dad all day. She's just grumpy because she needed your help. She's got issues." he stage whispered through the divider, complete with cupping one hand to his mouth.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine is, bizarrely, feeling bad about upsetting the feelings of a young, vulnerable teenage girl with an unstable father, skewed life and who has the bad sense to seem to admire Katherine, a little bit. As usual, she tries to cover up her guilt by grumpy silence, which if she were younger would be called sulking.

Deadshot's comment, however, strikes a nerve. "Damn right I have issues!" She snaps and turns, sending the car swerving dangerously. "D'you know how many assassination attempts MacDonald's survived last year? Do you? Four. Four for the freaking desk-job girl, all because she decided to take on the mob. ****ing four. All she does is sit at a desk and crack codes. It's not fair. Do you understand me? It's not fair!"

The policewoman turns her attention back to driving, still fuming. "So go on and have fun with your faces all covered up and in your masks and gadgets and red-and-white spandex, or whatever, like it's all a great big prancing game or something. You can speak to me when you're brave enough to do what Josephine does and do this job without a mask to your face and show the mob you're not scared. I'm sick of you freaks getting all the attention while good police die."

She chuckles. It's about the least funny sound you can imagine. "Still wanna be a freak, Stephannie? Maybe you two should stop thinking you're so brave in those costumes of yours."

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

Furious, the teenaged girl whips off her mask, revealing the crying face of a blonde teenager.

"You're right it isn't fair! Do you know what it's like, having a criminal for a father; someone who's been to Arkham repeatedly? How many times I've been made fun of for it? Hearing a knock at the door to our house and knowing that there are thieves and murderers on the other side being let in? They make plans to rob and kill while I try to do my homework upstairs."

She's shouting as well, tears running down her face. Some people look cute while crying; Steph doesn't. Her face gets red, and puffy, and it just looks sad.

"And my mom's a junkie! She spends the entire day popping pills and sending me for more! I'm the one who has to cook and clean and whatever else has to get done! And I have to use my dad's credit card to do it!"

Steph somehow manages to keep her words from dissolving into incoherence. Her voice continues to get louder and louder.

"Don't you know why I'm the Spoiler, Lieutenant? So that I don't have to be Stephanie Brown any more. And I wear a mask, so that when I'm busting criminals, my father's goons don't tear me apart in my sleep? Is that fair, Lieutanant? Is that?"

And then, in a small, sad whisper.

"You either have to learn to enjoy the small things, Lieutenant, or you'll be angry and sad and depressed all the time."

[ChronicLunacy]

I wrote this all out before the last reply, and I didn't want to delete it. So while it may seem like overkill, I'm going to go ahead and post it. :smallbiggrin:

Stephanie gave a good showing, but Deadshot had to say his piece, too. He wasn't the type to shut up and take it.

"Get off of your damn high horse. We don't do it because it's brave, Walker. Sure, I can't deny enjoying the thrill, but mostly the reason us 'freaks' put on the mask is because it works. Gordon's fine, and there are a few good cops in the department, but Gotham is rife with corruption and you know it. Guys like me can't be corrupted because we can't be bought or blackmailed. They can't put a bomb in my car, or show up at my apartment uninvited. They can't threaten my family or my 401K. The very reason you hate us is the reason we work, and you know it."

"Don't act like we're in this for the fame either. You think anyone's going to remember our real names? You think our kids, should we be lucky enough to have them, will even know what we did? If you want the attention, you can have it. I'll be doing this until criminals either decide to unanimously give up and go home or I get killed fighting for this hellhole of a city. I'm not going to get paid for it, I'm not going to punch a freaking time card, I'm just going to be putting boot to ass for as long as I can until some thug with an assault rifle or a baseball bat gets lucky. Then hopefully someone like me, a freak in a mask, will be inspired by my example and continue doing the work."

"You really need to get your head on straight, Walker. I knew you were bitter about us, and I can take the name-calling, but your issues are starting to look like a liability. Pull over. I'll meet you at Wayne Tech, but I'm taking the high road."

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

The car shudders to a stop and Walker stares blankly out of the window as Deadshot leaves. Then, without a word, she starts the car again.

"Well." She says finally. "Guess I messed it up again." Then, louder. "You okay, kid?"

The car moves through traffic - sanely, this time. There's a certain lack of enthusiasm in the policewoman's driving. It's uncertain what she's thinking. Then, finally, she breaks the silence. "Sorry." Doesn't break her gaze with the road. "If you want me to go to Gordon and make him put you with someone, well, sane, I can do it. Josephine's been complaining about her apartment feeling empty all week long."

[industrious]

By GM Fiat, I'm moving everybody to Gotham Labs


Stephanie Brown

"It's okay," she says.

"You were grumpy, but you're still better then my parents. Can we...can we talk about this later? I kind of want to beat my father up first."

Gotham Labs

The Paddy Wagon and Katherine's police car pull up to Gotham Labs nigh-simultaneously; Deadshot, in a stroke of coincidence, had managed to see Lock-Up's car shortly after getting out of the squad car.

There is a chain-link fence and gate, but the gate is open, and the guard on duty is dead; suffocated by a clear plastic epoxy that covered his mouth.

His name tag reads Johnathan Faddis.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Marvelous." Katherine mutters. "Guess you were right, kid. Well done."

Getting back to the side of the car, she reaches in through the window and grabs the police radio. "Walker to dispatch, Freak Squad." She says. "Murder at Wanye Labs, a Johnathan Faddis, Code F. Probably more. Come in and secure scene." There's a bit more talking, police jargon, and then she comes back to the scene, putting some gloves on.

"Let's co-ordinate." She says briskly, turning to Lock-Up and the people coming from his wagon. "What did you find out? We got the Cluemaster's kid, lead us here, so she's smarter than she looks. Not much else."

With a sigh, Katherine turns and surveys the scene as she listens to the reply. Another freak-killed body, another day in Gotham. When where the times she didn't have this?


[roll0], Investigate
JIC roll: [roll1]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"He could already be doing whatever he's got planned. I'm going in. You guys feel free to talk that over." Deadshot said. Then he fired a line from underneath his wrist which swiftly carried him up to the roof. He readied his wristols as he stalked across the roof looking for a skylight. He attempted to find the main tachyon collider room, since he figured it would probably be pretty huge. Hopefully he'd be able to spot Cluemaster from above.

In the case the roof didn't have skylights, he'd just have to use a rooftop door or hatch. Barring that he'd just break into one of the windows on the top floor.

Notice (Super-Senses - Extended [2] Sight): [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]
JIC: [roll2]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The vigilante nods as Deadshot leaves to gather reconnaissance information, and turns to address the others. Firstly, he looks at Stephanie. "You're the Cluemaster's daughter?" he asks. And then, nodding his approval, "Welcome to the fight." He turns to Walker, then. "We found out where he'd been living. There was a newspaper in the trashcan with a headline circled. It's almost like he wanted us to know." He shrugs. "Then again, he is the Cluemaster, so leaving hints behind is his established MO." There is a moment's pause before he speaks again. "I didn't break anything."

[roll0]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"Damn, he's still one step ahead of us," said The Question. She noticed the arrival of the purple-clad teenager - really, in purple, how can anyone have not - but her curiosity took over before she could begin the pleasantries with the young girl. She knelt down next to Faddis' body, grimly surveying the scene. "Ahead of us, and still using new tricks. What is this, glue?" She produced a pencil from her coat pocket to test exactly how strong this epoxy was, and if any additional clues were hidden on the dead guard's body.

She stood back up and straightened out her coat. She headed back over to the group, her faceless gaze focused on The Spoiler. "Ms. Brown, thank you for leading the Lieutenant and the rest of them here - did you happen to hear why your father might be wanting to steal this device? Or who, if anyone, he's working for - and who might be working with him?"


Search (as I figure I'll need that): [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]

[industrious]

Deadshot

Most buildings in Gotham follow a specific design aesthetic. Skylights, gargoyles, and a general neo-Gothic feel. This building, on the other hand, was built along different lines. It's a squat, two-story building made almost entirely out of concrete. The vigilante is forced to enter through an open second story window, leading to a fairly nondescript office.

Outside Gotham Labs

"Oh, my god! Hi Question! Hi Lock-Up! Hi...new person?"

She pauses for a moment, decides on a course of action.

"Awesome. The Gotham Five just became the Gotham Six! And Question, I'm the Spoiler in this. I mean, I don't go around revealing who everyone else is. If I knew who anyone else was..."


She glares at the faceless vigilante. Her identity may be absurdly easy to deduce to those in the community, but she expected some level of professional courtesy. And in front of a stranger, no less.

"And no, I don't really know much else about what the Cluemaster is planning. He hasn't really been back...to a place I can eavesdrop on since he got out of Arkham.

The Question

((JIC roll used for Investigate))

The epoxy is incredibly strong; the guard had died because it formed a very tight seal over the man's nose and mouth, asphyxiating him. And while she didn't have a chemistry set with her, she could guess that whatever would dissolve the compound wouldn't be particularly common. This was a nasty, vicious, and cruel way to kill someone. The explosion, ironically enough, had been better; at least that had been quick.

There don't seem to be any clues placed on his person, however.

"That's terrible."

Steph is peering over Kate's shoulder at the man, who's face is frozen in a final gasp for air.

"...I think I have some of the solvent for that stuff, though. Swiped it from his lab."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot moved through the office, staying low and stepping quietly the way he'd learned in the Suicide Squad. He double-checked the silencers and the stun ammo in his weapons, making sure that nothing would go wrong with his equipment. He may have been a thrillseeking wiseass most of the time, but he was fanatical about his weapons and maintenance. He moved out of the office and into the main hallway, heading toward where he figured the biggest room and the collider would be located.

JIC: [roll0]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

From beneath her mask, Kate cringed as she heard Stephanie's voice. "I'm sorry you have to see this, Spoiler. A girl your age should be at home, not out with a handful of costumed adventurers." Kate said this with just enough inflection to show that she was on board with her new identity.

"I hate to say this, but I don't think your father - or whoever he might be working with - are going to come along quietly. When we find him, this could turn very dangerous, very quickly." She let this sink into the exuberant teenager's mind for a moment before continuing. "Have you had any sort of self-defense training? And have you actually been in a fight? If you haven't, that's fine - I just need to know how seasoned you are."

After that, The Question began to head into the office building behind Deadshot - it seemed a far better idea to her to follow along his path than possibly get caught in a crossfire situation.


JIC: [roll0]

[Terron]

Luigi nods and, grabbing the rim of his hat, tilts it down and makes a flourish. "Black Crossbow, at your service." he said. after the introducction and the discussion about the information regarding Cluemaster was done, he followed The Question into the building.

JIC:[roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"So, kid, that's the bunch of weirdos you'll be hanging out with if you keep on wearing that costume." Katherine says, breaking into as fast a run as she can in order to catch up to The Question and the crossbow guy. "C'om, get in and you could be useful to me and them. That's what you want, right?"

"And if you dare get yourself killed... well, a talk with the girl who runs that afterlife thing and I'll get my revenge on you." If she didn't know better, Spoiler could swear that Katherine was being serious when she said this.

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"I've been beating up thugs on my own for the past several months, and do kickboxing . This isn't my first time, Q."

Stephanie follows everybody to the second floor office.

Second Floor

It's a typical office floor; monochrome grey carpet and walls with pale green accents, a few blatant cries of individuality in a mass of conformity...the usual.

An elevator is on the far end of the corridor.

2nd Floor: Administration
1st Floor: Reception Area and Lobby
Basement: Collider Power Room
Subbasement 1: Collidor Walkway and Control Room
Subbasement 2: Collidor

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

"Kickboxing..." he muses, thinking aloud. "Consider learning some Judo to supplement your strikes." After that, he goes silent and follows the others into the building, for however long it takes them to reach the second floor. "We're not all freaks and weirdos," he whispers to Spoiler. "I put on the lower half of my costume one leg at a time, just like everyone else." And then, after a moment's hesitation: "I think what you're doing is very brave. It's one thing to put your life on the line like this, behind a mask. It's another thing to go against your family when you know they're in the wrong."

[roll0]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The Question frowned as she stared at the sign by the elevator. "Too many unknowns. I don't see 'Security' listed on here - presumably, they have someone monitoring the premises remotely. Might be on the first floor. If we don't find anything there, then I think we have to proceed to the first subbasement. I'm not especially keen on being bombarded with theoretical particles tonight. Also, I'd rather take the stairs if we have the option. Elevators are too confined."


[roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Still wincing from the run, Katherine raises an outspread hand. "Five floors." She says. "Five of us."

She looks at the list of floors. "We can probably ignore reception, but who knows? He could be anywhere depending on what he's looking for. I say someone techy takes the basements, where the science stuff is, and the rest can split whatever."

"An' Steph's staying with me. It's my job to protect her, and I'm doing bad enough at it as it is without losing sight of her. Gordon's gonna chew me out enough as it is."

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"Four floors - we're already on the second floor. And if it weren't for the possibilty of a security console on the first floor, I'd agree with you, Lieutenant." As The Question said this, she examined the area for stairs leading down to the basment and, hopefully, subbasement.

[industrious]

Question

There are two sets of stairs, as well as a set of fire stairs next to the elevator.

Stephanie Brown

"Thanks Lieutenant. Knew you liked me."

She's determined to see Katherine in the best light. Mother issues, probably.

"And thanks, Lock-Up. It...means a lot to hear you say that."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The mountainous vigilante nods. "Splitting up would be the most expedient method of finding him, but it carries the risk of arriving unprepared to handle what he's got planned, or who he's got with him. Perhaps two teams, each one handling two floors? That might be a sufficient compromise." He looks down at Spoiler. "You know your father better than anyone. How will he react if cornered? Does he have any close associates, anyone he would have brought along on something like this? A gang of regular assistants, maybe?"

[roll0]

[industrious]

Stephanie Brown

"He has a gang; about ten or so goons. And he won't go down without a fight; if he's cornered, he'll panic and start flinging explosives or something."

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Right." Walker snaps, her mind thinking fast. "Okay, Lock-Up, you take the basements - you're kind of good with tech from what I recall. Deadshot, join him, you two work nicely together. Question can go with you as well, leaving me and Spoiler and Crossbow to take the upstairs. That way both teams have one of us who can investigate, one who can shoot something and one backup when things get messy, and I get to grill the new guy while I'm at it."

"Right. Any objections to that?" She's eyeing the Crossbow as she speaks. There's a few questions she'd like to ask this guy...

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot, having been ahead of the others, had already taken the stairs down by the time everyone got to planning. Still, it was more or less to Walker's strategy anyway, so it was up to Lock-up to follow him. Deadshot fast-walked quietly down the stairs toward the collider, figuring that would be the best place to start looking for the villain.

JIC: [roll0]

[Terron]

"None, yours is a sound plan Lieutenant." Black Crossbow replies simply, arms crossed, ready to move on. He feel's Katherine's gaze, as he felt it several times before. Luigi had hoped to forget the feeling of those sharp eyes cutting into his mind; but he didn't, and now, he felt the scrying gaze of the policewoman again; as he felt Lockup's. "You'll have to take it like a cabalieri..." he thought to himself.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"It's as good a plan as we're likely to get. Just remember: no battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy. Keep to the balls of your feet." The Question silently approved of Walker's distrust of Black Crossbow - if both of their intuitions said something was up with him, then he definitely was worth future investigation. Once Cluemaster was dealt with, she'd delve deeper into who he was...

...but that was for another night. Time for her to focus. She followed Deadshot down the stairs, keeping her eyes sharp for cameras or other traps Cluemaster's goons might be preparing for them.


JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

Staircase

The way down is narrow and cramped; these staircases were built with the bare minimum of money and effort. Regulations were followed, but only just; one feels claustrophobic simply walking in them. Bare concrete and unpainted metal rails, with visible ceiling pipes slowly leaking water; it drips onto the party's heads in a steady plunk-plunk. Every few feet is a cheap wall light, the dim illumination keeping the distance between them barely visible.

((Need to know which floors the groups are heading to))

[Terron]

"What about if one group starts from the bottom going up, and the other from the top going down? We'll be able to trap anyone that attempts to escape that way. Unless they jump out of the windows to their own demise, that is." suggest the former gangster.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot headed directly to sub-basement 2, where the sign said the collider was located. He'd work his way up from there if he didn't find anything.

[industrious]

Lock-Up, Deadshot, and Question

The three of you move down to subbasement 2, the metal door at the bottom of the stairs creaking open.

"What was that?"


Opening the door all the way, you see a long, narrow hallway, with a cheap linolium floor and cardboard ceiling tiles. About fifty feet in, there is a 90 degree left turn, and the shadow of a man holding a gun at the entrance.


I'll need Stealth checks as well as JIC checks.

[industrious]

Lobby Group

The ground floor of the building is much the same as the first, with the exception of the opening courtyard. Here, apparently no expense has been spared; wood-paneling on the walls, wide spaces with columns arranged in a circle, the works--the space is obviously intended for the official commencement tomorrow.

Stepping into that inner circle of columns, however, one sees that the polished marble floors give way to glass; one can see directly into the first subbasement. And beneath The Black Crossbow's feet, a man in an orange costume and utility belt, his lower face hidden by a bandana, is barking orders at a group of men in ski masks and assault rifles.

"That's him," the Spoiler whispers, anger lacing through every syllable. "That's the Cluemaster."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot held both of his arms pointed at the floor as he crept toward the corner, hoping to surprise the man before he noticed he had visitors. Hopefully a silenced shot from one of his rubber bullets to the forehead or diaphragm would put him down for the count. He wanted to be quick and quiet, to keep the mook from yelling and alerting any other bad guys.

He wasn't any sort of leader, so Deadshot let the others do whatever they wanted.

Stealth: [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate silently cursed as the door creaked. Not only were they heading towards the enemy's fortified position, but their intel was lacking. They didn't know numbers, they didn't know the competence of their enemies - Hell, they didn't even know where Cluemaster was getting all these creative ways of killing people. Time for that to change. She tapped Deadshot on the shoulder, then held up a hand to indicate for him to hold a moment.

Then, she cleared her mind, and opened herself to the aspect of Yesod. The Hebrew character tattooed on her body glowed from beneath her clothing, emanating from her lower abdomen. She became aware of the unconscious world around her, and opened her mind's eye to view the room beyond. With that brief remote glimpse, she began to formulate an entry plan...


Stealth: [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]

[industrious]

The Question

((Using your JIC as a Notice check for a result of 30.))


Looking to around the corner and through the room ahead, Katherine sees the man standing lookout. He's brawny in a way that can only suggest time at Blackgate; he's holding an AK-47 with the safety off and his finger on the trigger. He's on edge from that noise; the moment something changes in his surroundings, he's going to fire. And whether or not he hits, the sound will alert the rest of the Cluemaster's gang.

50 feet down the corridor from that guard is the collider itself; a rather plain-looking device, truth be told. Science fiction and popular culture had one believe that high technology was flashy; lights and diodes, glass and holograms, and all manner of signals that this was advanced and cutting edge. The reality was that the collider was suspended 8 feet above the ground, and looked like nothing so much as a giant metal doughnut with a 100 foot-long hole.

Level with the collider is a steel grating catwalk; the floor above, where the Cluemaster and 2 more of his goons, built of the same stock as the previous, are striding towards what appears to be a control room.

"Listen up," he's saying. "I'll be in the center in 5 minutes. Once I'm there, activate the button we've rigged up."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The vigilante winces at the noise, but moves his considerable bulk as silently as possible alongside his companions. It's only after the Cluemaster's guard intimates that he's heard their arrival does Lock-Up reach towards his belt and unbutton the leather loop that holds his nightstick. Sometimes he's a little envious of the others. Deadshot's augmented optics are a technology that he'd like to get his hands on, for example, and the Question's apparently mystical tattoos would certainly be useful. But when he's got the nightstick in his hand, he feels nearly invincible. It's a primal sort of feeling, to use a club as your primary weapon. It's crude, but nobody can doubt its effectiveness in battle.

He was moving forwards, with Deadshot, when the Question tapped the gunman and activated on of her tattoos.
Lock-Up stops, too, awaiting her insight.

JIC: [roll0]
Stealth: [roll1]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Get back." Katherine hissed. She understands Steph's anger, and in a way she's glad of it - there's far too many kids out there who'd consider the actions of a parent like Mr. Brown to be their fault, and anger is a step up from that. At least that means she might be able to trump some Domestic Abuse charges on the Cluemaster and keep him out of that revolving door called Arkham this time, if she remembers their policies right. "And be quiet. We're outnumbered and outgunned here. This ain't the Gray Ghost."

She turns to the newcomer, and points towards the cluemaster. "Crossbow, can you get a bead on that guy?" She says. "Gonna see if I can contact my guys. Don't shoot without warning - warning me, that is."

Digging into her pocket, Katherine gets out the commbeads she carries with her everywhere now. She doesn't like involving her department in this unless it's an emergency, because any indication or proof of Katherine being officially in cohorts with or acting like a freak would bring the whole Gotham press on their heads, but if this isn't a time to do it she's not sure what is. She links the comm onto her head, and adjusts the setting. "Allen? Sarah? MacDonald? Marcus?" She whispers. "You there?"

JIC: [roll0]

[Terron]

Luigi looks at the detective "I don't think my bolt can go through this glass. If we can find an opening in the glass I'll get him for sure."

JICR: [roll0]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot was starting to look impatient, but he kept his enthusiasm reined in for the moment. He flattened himself against a wall and waited for Question to get done with whatever the hell she was doing. By what Cluemaster had said, they only had five minutes to stop both whatever the villain was doing in the control center as well as his henchmen and their "button". In his experience, buttons were never a good thing. He hadn't said "detonator" but that was what Deadshot's mind instantly jumped to after overhearing the conversation.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate stopped concentrating, and her tattoo ceased its soft warm glow. While she had the others' attention, she pointed to where her eyes would be, and then held up four fingers. She gestured to Lock-Up, then to herself. Then she gestured to Deadshot, and pointed at the shadow of the guard ahead of them. He's all yours, Deadshot, she thought. Clear the way for Lock-Up and myself. We need to get into that room immediately.


JIC:[roll0]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

The heavily armed vigilante smiled under his mask and took aim at the shadow further down the hallway. With the guy generally not moving it was a simple shot, even in the darkness. Of course, the darkness mattered very little to Deadshot as he switched on the thermal imaging device built into his eyepiece and zoomed in on the man's head. He settled the crosshairs linked to his wristols on the goon's temple as he looked down the length of one arm and pointed with his index finger. Then there was a brief flash of light as the firearm spoke, its voice muffled slightly by the suppressor, and a rubber round cracked into the man's head. He kept his other arm ready for a follow-up just in case by some miracle the man didn't go down like a sack of potatoes.

Taking ten on the roll against the minion for a 22. Blast 8, Subtle. If I can't take ten then I'll gladly use my JIC roll for a critical hit. :smallamused:
JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

Basement

((Collect a hero point, ChronicLunacy.))

Toughness:[roll0]

The guard crashes to the floor, but his trigger finger twitches as he does so, and a burst of gunfire crashes into the wall. The sound echoes through the hallway, and any chance of a stealthy entrance is immediately lost.

The three of them can hear pounding feet towards them, the chambering of assault rifles, and barked orders.

((Initiative in the OOC thread would be a good idea))

Lobby

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

It's MacDonald.

"You need something? We're all back in MCU..."

Then she hears the shot, and the Cluemaster looks up, his mouth moving silently as he barks orders to his minions.

"Crap," mutters the Spoiler, forgetting that she had resolved to use "Blast" for these situations, as it sounded more heroic. "What do we do what do we do what do we do?"

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 26
Condition: Unharmed

"Of all the rotten luck..." griped Deadshot, his fists clenching in frustration. "Well, there goes the element of surprise. Let's just go and beat the crap out of them before they realize what's going on, okay?" he said as he started to hurry toward the door past where the guard had fallen. He took a moment to kick the unconscious man for making him look bad before continuing through. He went into a roll past the threshold in order to throw off any shots that might be coming his way.

Using my Move to go into the room and my Standard action on Total Defense this round.
JIC: [roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Don't panic!" Katherine snaps, placing an arm on Stephanine to steady the girl. "MacDonald, Cluemaster's at the collider thing! Report any useful info now!"

Thank god it wasn't Allen on the other end there. His backchat would've been immense.

"Looks like our freaks have started the situation downstairs." Katherine says, drawing out her service weapon. "Crossbow, I'll see if I can break the glass with my and then you start firing. Attack on two fronts. That savvy?" She looks at the vilgilante, demanding confirmation.

JIC: [roll0]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot rounded the corner only to find himself face to face with a pair of goons charging around from the opposite direction. While surprised, he recovered more quickly than they did as he skidded to a halt. "Trick or treat!" he quipped as he snapped up both of his wristols into their faces and opened up with a fully-automatic stream of rubber pain.

Taking 10, if possible, for a total of 20 on both mooks. DC23 toughness save. If they're super-minions or whatever and for some reason I can't take ten, I'll roll below.

Mook 1: [roll0]
Mook 2: [roll1]
EDIT: I am...I'm speechless. A 1 and a 2? Really? I've developed a habit of rolling badly, but never this badly. Someone up there must hate me... :smallsigh: Here's hoping I can just take 10!

[industrious]

Goons

The first one goes down, slumping forward with his assault rifle skittering across the floor.

The second one, however, manages to remain upright, if wobbly from the impacts.

Katherine Walker

"Like what? It's a science thing with math that I really don't understand."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

Moving smoothly, Lock-Up darts forward and pulls his nightstick out to the side before twisting and clubbing the remaining goon in the stomach. If the blow manages to hit, and the goon had lunch today, he's probably going to be tasting it again in reverse before too long.

Actions:
Movement: towards the goon.
Standard: attacking the goon; [roll0]; DC25.

[industrious]

Minion

The second minion hurks up, and vomit stains the corner of his mouth; as Lock-Up withdraws the club, he crumbles forward as well.

End Combat

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"I want to know why the goddamn Cluemaster is at the Collider." Katherine hisses. MacDonald is a smart girl, but Jesus does she get on her nerves sometimes. "Ask somebody who knows and get back to me."

Katherine looks up from her whispered conversation and sees the fight downstairs. Or, at least, the end of the fight. She blinks. "Well, that was anticlimactic. At least you costumed freaks are good for something, though. What now?"

[industrious]

Walker

"Calm down, Lieutenant. Nobody knows why. I mean, it's a very expensive, 50 million dollar piece of equipment with a 75 million dollar insurance tag. He could be trying to destroy it and get part of the money back. He might want to destroy Wayne Enterprise's reputation; they did own the network he got fired from. Or he could just have turned absolutely wacko."

"Or d) all of the above," mutters the Spoiler.

The Group

Lieutenant Walker and the Spoiler rush down the stairs, the eggplant-clad teen a few feet behind the policewoman.


"Listen up, freaks. I have no clue why Brown is at this collider, and right now, I really don't care. He knows we're here. We know he's here. Take him in quickly, and I can get back to filling out paperwork that you don't need to and babysitting the kid Gordon fobbed off to me."

"Yeah!...Hey!"

Results of the Notice roll using your JIC's. Please put them at every post, because they are important.

Lock-Up

As you were, Bolton.

Deadshot

Nothing out of the ordinary. For a given definition of "ordinary," anyway.


Katherine Walker

You get a hero point, and everything's golden.


Question

Oh, dear. The reason why the Spoiler is behind Lt. Walker is because when the two stepped over the Cluemaster's goons, she stopped, and lifted the man's pistol from his holster. It's tucked into the back of her pants now.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The Question nodded her head as she listened to the Lieutenant's plan - such that it was. "Get him" was a goal, not a plan. Still, it was The Cluemaster - hardly the sort of threat that Freeze or Ivy would cause, and she could rely on the others to spearhead that attack.

"I'll be right behind you. Bolton, toss me some zipties - I want to make certain these guys don't get back on their feet and try to flank us." The cerulean-garbed crimefighter began to restrain Cluemaster's mooks, and disassembling their guns with practiced speed, but this was only a ruse - her real intent was to have a chance to speak with Stephanie.

As the Spoiler began to follow the rest of the group towards the tachyon collider's control room, The Question quickly laid a hand on her shoulder, and speaks in a hushed whisper. "Ste...Spoiler, we need to talk for a moment. I know you want to stop Cluemaster more than anything, but there are lines that, once crossed, cannot be uncrossed. Maybe it's vengeance, maybe it's wanting to pay him back for all the pain he's caused, or maybe I don't know the exact reason. I can tell you this though - there is no closure to be found at the business end of a gun. Only more loss." She knew it had to be strange, hearing this moral lesson from a faceless investigator, but her voice was soft and reassuring, almost nurturing.


JIC: [roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

The policewoman nods at the Question's words. "Trust her on this one, kid. She's right." Her words are short, sharp, and careful, and she quickly turns away. She doesn't want to say much on this point. "Best revenge is living well, they say. You... you take care on that point, all right?" There's barely any snap in there.

She turns her attention back to her comms with relief. "'bout to go in, MacDonald. Any chance backup will be here in time?" Of course it won't, but it's by the book to check, and if someone here has to do things by the book it's her. There are some things that must be done. "Anybody else there, or they busy?"

JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

Stephanie

"I...I don't know what you're talking about."

She's not that good at lying. Her voice is trembling, and her posture is all wrong and guilty and confused.

"We...we should go."

MacDonald

"Not unless you have an hour for us to get there. Sorry, Lieutenant. Tell Deadshot I said hi!"

She has a crush on him. Which is disturbing on so many levels.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Speaking of the gun-toting vigilante, he had gone on ahead hoping to find either the Cluemaster or more goons to knock out. Who knew what he could be doing in the next room while they sat and talked?

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Kid, learn to lie. You're gonna need it." Katherine looks around. "And Deadshot... aw, hell." The vigilante has gone ahead already. One of these days that is actually going to get him in trouble. "He's got a point, though. We waiting around for anything?"

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up

The vigilante glances over at Walker, and then towards Deadshot, who is by now venturing further into the room in search of their quarry. "I'll go after him. Maybe you could circle around the other way, catch Cluemaster in a pincer." He gives Walker a brief salute before following after his comrade, the nightstick held low in prepared, practiced readiness. He keeps his eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary.

JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

((Proceeding under the assumption that everyone is good to go))

Deadshot

The moment he peeks out from the corner, the Cluemaster's goons open fire without warning or even banter from the villain himself. The automatic weapons covering Deadshot push his armor to its limit.


Surprise! You are surprised, and lose your dodge bonus to Defense and Toughness Saves. Autofire means that for every 2 points the goons' rolls go over, the DC of the save increases by one. Base DC is 20.

Attack Roll: [roll0]
Attack Roll: [roll1]
Attack Roll: [roll2]
Attack Roll: [roll3]


Everyone

The sound of gunfire echoes through the hallway. Lock-Up notes that the sound aren't those of Deadshot's wristols.


Everybody roll initiative in the OOC thread. You guys are a move action away from being where Deadshot is.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 22
Damage: Unharmed

It was a good tactic, and with his eagerness to bring the fight to Cluemaster Deadshot had been surprised. Fortunately, he had almost superhuman reflexes and and technologically advanced hearing, which allowed him split-second reaction times. Deadshot snapped his body into a roll as he came around the corner and rebounded off of the nearest wall or railing as soon as he came to his feet. Shots pinged off of his heavy armor, but fortunately only one of the goons actually managed to hit him. He grunted with the impacts, but managed a quip anyway.

"Amateurs..." he smirked. He didn't raise his wristols in response, but rather flicked a hand up and released a small cylinder he'd pulled from the bandolier across his chest. The grenade hit the floor at their feet with a tink, bounced once, and then began spraying acrid smoke over Cluemaster and his flunkies.

Deadshot has Uncanny Dodge, Extended 2 Hearing, and a great Notice check, so he's able to keep his dodge bonus to defense even when surprised. Using the last JIC roll as his Notice if need be. (12+16=28) Only one of the goons actually managed to beat his Defense of 22.
Toughness Save (DC21): [roll0]
Tear Gas Grenade: This type of grenade releases a cloud of gas that irritates the eyes and lungs, causing temporary blindness and nausea. (Area attack - Reflex DC 14. Visual Dazzle plus Nauseate, Fortitude Save DC14.)

[industrious]

Tachyon Collider Room

The Collider room, for all the millions of dollars that had been invested into it, doesn't look all that high-tech. a plain concrete floor, lit by cheap office lighting. Four of the Cluemaster's thugs stand facing towards the way into the room, while an staircase made of iron grating leads up to a catwalk; a control booth lies some 20 feet beyond the stairs.

A hundred feet into the room itself, and the collider itself emerges. It's perhaps 200 feet in diameter; a long metal doughnut a good six feet high, and suspended another 6 feet above the floor by ceiling-mounted braces. Wire clusters about every 10 degrees feed back into the control booth, and while it doesn't appear to be running, a glass panel, perhaps a foot high, shows flickers of light inside the collider.

In the center of the collider is the Cluemaster, this time eschewing his usual outfit. Instead, he's wearing a tan corduroy three-piece suit, with a pale blue silk tie. Absently, he's tossing an dark object approximately the size of a baseball up and down in his hand.

The Spoiler tenses noticeably at the sight of the villain, fingers twitching in the direction of the back of her pants.

"Get rid of them," the Cluemaster barks out. "Marcus! Begin the sequence!"

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Defense: 20
Damage: Unharmed

His eyes scan the room in a flash, taking in detail and filing it away for the confrontation that's about to unfold. Environment: multimillion-dollar pieces of experimental technology housed in a room designed more for form than function, un-ostentatious to the extreme, with a hard, un-carpeted concrete floor. Above the suspended collider is a catwalk; on it is a control panel. File that away. Opposition: five men, one of whom is the Cluemaster, wanted metavillain and recent murderer, the other four are henchmen, armed, and dangerous. The Cluemaster has something roughly the size of a large orange or a small grapefruit, capabilities unknown. File that away. Primary objective: defeat the Cluemaster and foil his scheme. Secondary objective: protect the others. Tertiary objective: survive. File that away. Choice of action: a violent distraction that will hopefully allow the others to act more freely.

He'd have to talk to Lucius about requisitioning some ranged weaponry - nonlethal throwing blades, perhaps, and grenades with various gaseous payloads. He could talk to Deadshot about that afterwards, once they're all out. He'll have to resort to melee, expose himself to a potentially fatal amount of punishment - which is fine. He's been in this sort of situation before and, should he manage to survive it, Shondra would be able to patch him back together. Bless that woman. Without her he'd be missing three fingers, two ribs, half of his liver, and his left eye. She's a living panacea.

As he passes Deadshot and trundles towards the first henchmen, the gunslinger will hear him mutter, his voice like fresh gravel: "Stop Marcus." And then he's in the room, fulled exposed, rushing towards the nearest henchman, his body turned like the blade of a knife so as to limit, however little, the targetable surface area.

He decides to shatter the man's primary collarbone, disabling his favored arm for the immediate future. Should it connect, it will likely end up as one of those old wounds that ache when it rains and throbs dully in the cold.

Actions:

Move: to the nearest henchman.
Attack (DC25; Critical range 17+, Takedown Attack may occur): [roll0].

[industrious]

Cluemaster's Gang

The man crumples under the force of the blow, and spinning sideways, Lock-Up forces his elbow into the gut of the other man, already blinded by Deadshot's grenade, and who doubles over in pain as vomit now stains the side of the vigilante's sleeve.

The remaining two were undeterred by the brutality; they had seen far worse in Blackgate. Their assault rifles are already raised, and one fires neat, controlled bursts towards the grey-clad giant.


Attack Roll:[roll0] :smallmad:
DC 20 Toughness save, +1 for every 2 points the attack roll exceeds Lock-Ups Defense.


Luigi's Turn

[Terron]

With surgical precision, Luigi takes a black bolt out of his quiver, which uncovers from under his trenchcoat at the moment he makes to motion with his hand to take the bolt out. He then puts it in place, as he loads the black ebony crossbow, and raises it to his face, aiming. The usual "thwang!" of this crossbow is barely audible. The bolt cuts through the wind, and into the target, the Cluemaster.




Quickdraw 2 grants the ability of drawing and loading the weapon as FREE actions.
STDR: Attacking the Cluemaster with Balestra: Luigi attacks with All out attack 4 and power attack 3, so +10 attack + 4 - 3= +11 attack bonus for DC 25+3= 28 DC toughness damage. Defense drops to 16.

MOVE: Move to get total cover if possible.

Black Balestatore:
Defense: 16
Toughness 10
Fort: 8 ; Ref: 8 ; Will: 8
Condition: unharmed
Others: Absorbs 5 physical.

[industrious]

The Cluemaster

At that distance, the Cluemaster merely steps aside; the bolt whizzes past him to sink into the opposite wall with a meaty thunk.

The villain looks at the wooden weapon, quivering and sunk into the concrete, and there is perhaps a hint of terror in his eyes as he hefts the ball one last time before throwing it towards the group. It rolls for a few more feet before beginning to spin, and smoke covers the area between the man's minions and himself.


Fifty feet between the Cluemaster and his goons is covered with the stuff. It blocks line of sight, and anyone passing through it must make a Fort Save of DC 20 against a Nauseate effect.


Question's Turn

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

The sound of gunfire spurred The Question into motion. She darted towards where the sounds of automatic rifles was coming, unconcerned for her own safety. Her mind was focused more on the unknowns that Spoiler brought to the table. Could she be trusted not to shoot her own father? When she saw the obscuring smoke, she frowned even further - it would be difficult to follow anyone in that haze. Still, her best bet was to get close to the Cluemaster and try to intercept her, should the young girl's emotions get the better of her. Kate closed her eyes and focused on fading from existence.


Move action to get into the action, and then turn invisible. I plan on heading towards where the Cluemaster used to be, but that's for a later round.
JIC: [roll0]

[industrious]

Mook 3

"You're going down, Lock-Up! My buddy's in your little zoo!"

The rifle's magazine is soon empty.


Attack Roll: [roll0]
DC 20 Toughness Save, +1 for every 2 points it exceeds Defense.


Deadshot's Turn

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 22
Condition: Unharmed

Deadshot broke into a sprint and then flipped over the remaining mooks, leaving them for the others to take care of while he headed straight for Cluemaster and the control room. He plunged into the smoke heedlessly, trusting his mask's filtering system to keep him from breathing in anything harmful and his eyepiece's infravision lens to keep his target in sight. Even as he appeared on the other side of the smoke, he sighted down his arm and let off a rapid-fire burst of stinging, rubber rounds at the villain.

Deadshot's mask gives him Immunity (Poison).
Autofire Blast 8: [roll0]

[industrious]

The Cluemaster

The man ducks down, dodging and weaving through the monocled marksman's fire. Deadshot can see his face wrench up in hatred, even a hundred feet away.

Mook 4

The other mook unloads his rounds at Lock-Up, figuring that the concentrated fire would be enough to make the big man bleed, if not kill him outright.


Attack Roll:[roll0]
DC 20 Toughness, +1 for every 2 points the DC exceeds Defense.


The Collider

The collider is beginning to energize; the high-pitched whine of cooling fansas well as the steady whump-whump of the collider itself. The interior of the circle of the collider is also beginning to glow, despite there being no additional sources of light.

"Captain," the Spoiler mutters in an atrociously bad Scottish accent. "The tachyon emissions seem to be producing a large amount of photonic radiation."

Katherine's Turn

[DeafnotDumb]

Katherine

And on top of everything else, the machine starts glowing. "Goddamn can't be good." Katherine mutters, untentionally in tune with Stephanine's more referentual mutter. "Hope it doesn't blow up. I was supposed to be picking up cake."

Then she hopes no one else heard that.

She grabs Stephanine - experience has taught her that leaving the kid unaccompanied gets will get her into far, far more trouble than even Katherine could - and half drags her along to the best target, that being the idiot who wasted time shouting at Lock-Up and is now holding an empty clip. He's not one of the Joker's men, so she'll go a little easier on him, with elbows, fists and the blunt cane as opposed to the edge of her sword, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy this.

Katherine's swordstick rises with a feral smile.


To hit: [roll0], DC 21 for the cane.
JIC: [roll1]

[industrious]

Mook 3


Toughness Save:[roll0]


The mook actually manages to get his rifle butt up in time to defend himself; a glancing blow that would turn an interesting shade later, but for now, wasn't even an annoyance. Not with all the adrenaline in his veins.

[industrious]

Spoiler

"Hey!"

The teenager squeaks out a protest at Walker's treatment, but goes along with it. And when the guy blows Katherine's blow, she goes at him simultaneously, sliding down into a kick the man's legs. The blow hits, but unfortunately, Steph simply doesn't have the mass to affect the beefy enforcer.

"...Oops?"


Acrobatic Bluff: [roll0]
Mook's Sense Motive: [roll1]
Attack Roll: [roll2]
Toughness Save (if necessary): [roll3]


Lockup's Turn

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Stunned, Bruised, Injured
Current Defense: 13 (20-Dodge Bonus-2)

After watching two of his comrades beaten down by the gray-clad vigilante, the first of the remaining gunmen raises his rifle and fires in a panic, the rounds chattering like angry teeth as they leave the barrel and slamming harmlessly into the wall beside Lock-Up, leaving angry pock-marks in the plaster, like craters on the Moon. Lock-Up glares at the man, and manages to take two imposing steps towards him before the second gunman, who had used the distraction of the first to take more careful aim, shouts out, and fires.

Lucius' technology is to be commended. Many of the gunman's bullets bounce harmlessly off of Lock-Up's armored chest and fall smoking to the ground, the lead deformed by the impact. For the purpose of mobility, however, the armor had to come equipped with seams that were less armored than the harder plate sections. On bullet lodges itself in a seam that allows him mobility about the waist - he'll have a nasty bruise there, at least - and another punches through and pierces his skin below the right pectoral muscle.

He drops to his knees with a grunt and feels blood begin to gush out into his armor before the absorbent padding on the inside swells with it, pushing back against the wound. There is another bright flare of pain as it does so, but it will keep his fluids in until he can seek medical attention. He gasps air through his mask and decides to take the next few seconds out.

Thank God he emptied his clip! he muses.

[Terron]

Black Balestatore runs and rolls into the smoke, trying to appear on the other side to shoot at the Cluemaster. Unfortunately, the smoke is highly irritant for the higher respiratory system. Coughing, the former gangster moves out of the cloud, unable to do anything else. "Watch out *Cough!* that thing is toxic!"
he warns the others.

Actions: Move into smoke, fail save, move forward out of the smoke.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Holding her breath, The Question dove into the smoke. Her Pseudoderm mask helped keep her eyes from stinging too greatly, and she emerged from the smoke, still invisible. She dove and somersaulted towards The Cluemaster, highly aware that the cloud would betray her exit.

Inwardly, she continued her moving meditation. Of all the techniques taught to her by the Sephirot, this was the most difficult. If she didn't want to be seen by others, she had to forget herself before the majesty of the divine. Forgetting one's self is the hardest lesson of all, and Kate hadn't truly mastered it. All it took was one errant thought, and she would be as easily seen as anyone else.

Still, for now, she was coping.


Move 30', made my Fort save on the OOC thread, move another 30' to exit the smoke cloud.

[industrious]

Mook 3

The minion finds Lock-Up down, but with an empty gun, is forced to reload.


Deadshot's Turn.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Apologies for the delay!

Deadshot came out of the smoke cloud at a jog, headed straight toward Cluemaster. He didn't speak, but made it obvious that he was intent on a brawl. He ran up the stairs toward the villain, but at the last second his legs bunched and he propelled himself up onto the railing. He took two steps up the railing until his balance started to fail, then jumped off and turned a flip to get to the catwalk at the top. It was obvious now that he intended on completely bypassing Cluemaster in favor of stopping whatever was going on in the control room! "Save a dance for me, Artie, I'll be back for you in a minute." he quipped as he headed past.

Moving 30 feet up the stairs past Cluemaster and Total Defense as my standard action in order to give Deadshot a Defense of 26 for this turn.

Acrobatics to move through an occupied space: [roll0]
Bluff, if needed: [roll1]
JIC: [roll2]

[industrious]

((No problem))

Mook 4

"Bad move, kid," the man says, attempting to slam the butt of his rifle into Stephanie's gut. The Spoiler is too quick, though, and nimbly handstands backwards, even going so far as to mock him with a bow.

"Worse for you, big guy. Sic 'em, Lieutenant!"


Attack Roll:[roll0] against Defense 19
DC 20 Toughness Save
Toughness Save:[roll1]


Walker's Turn

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Kid, back!" Walker snaps, and is glad to see Stephanie dodge flawlessly, if too showily, out of the crook's attack. Gordon would give her hell if she let the kid get hurt, and he'd be right. Time to rectify the threat, then. Walker's cane rises, going towards the chin and nose, and then heading down towards the kneecap for a bracing impact. Well, he'd certainly remember it if it connected properly, at least, especially if this could keep him indoors until the winter stopped hurting his legs. She growls.


To hit: . DC of 21.
JIC [roll]/1d20

[industrious]

Spoiler

The mook screams and goes down; the Spoiler waggles her finger at the man.

"Told you," she sing-songs.

She turns towards her father, then, and stares at the gas cloud between the two.

"...That looks bad. Hold on."

She takes a small glass ball of her own, and lobs it at the vapor. It shatters, and the gas quickly solidifies into a disgusting, sticky-looking goop.

"I took that from his stash," she quickly explains. "Now let's go get 'em."

Deadshot

He bounds up the stairs, and a heavy looking metal door stands between himself and the control booth. But before he can act, though...

Everybody

The Cluemaster grins, and does a mock bow.

"Too late," he crows. "The sequence is complete! Marcus! Push the red button!"

The whomp-whomp of the generators escalates, and the cooling fans seem to strain to continue at their increased pace. The area in the center of the collider becomes saturated with light, and it becomes painful to look at.

It ends abruptly. And when the light fades, the Cluemaster is nowhere to be seen. The metal door to the control room automatically unseals, sliding to the left, and revealing a small, cramped-looking space covered in blinking dials, computer screens, and a hodge-podge of wiring connected to a large red button.

Sitting in an office chair is another of the Cluemaster's mooks, his back to Deadshot.


Your Move

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Since it's the end of combat, I'm taking some liberties with this. If he's actually dead or something else is going to happen, feel free to overwrite whatever I'm doing. :smallbiggrin:

Deadshot walked up behind the mook, Marcus, and looked over his shoulder at the readouts in front of the man casually. When Marcus noticed who it was standing next to him and tried to fumble for his gun, Deadshot reached over his shoulder and shot a rubber bullet straight into his family jewels. Marcus produced a high-pitched scream just before Deadshot pulled him backwards out of the chair and slung him down the stairs toward Lock-Up. "Think you can get this canary to sing a different tune?" he asked the bigger man as he leaned on the office doorframe and looked down at the others.

[industrious]

Marcus

Soprano does not befit the muscular gentlemen at all; the Spoiler has to clap her hands over her ears to deafen the high and extremely grating scream that emerges from the man's mouth.

Unceremoniously tossed to the floor, Marcus stares at the group of vigilanties. Even the Spoiler, who everyone in the party knows is not particularly skilled or dark, looks threatening in her outfit.

"I...I..." he whimpers.


Ask questions, and post JIC rolls.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

It's the squealing, really, that brings Bolton back to his senses. His vision clears just enough for him to see Marcus being thrown on the ground in front of him, clutching at his unmentionables as though he were worried they'd fall off - which might not be an unwarranted overreaction, given the circumstances. The promise of threatening a criminal gets a strong reaction out of Lock-Up, in that he goes from kneeling on the floor, bleeding into his body armor, to standing upright at his full heights, with the fingers of his right hand grasping at the front of Marcus' shirt. He lifts the smaller man two feet off the floor and holds him there. Bolton's eyes bore into Markus' weepy ones and he channels the the ire raised by his injury into his growl, which comes out sounding like he'd been smoking broken glass for the last three hundred years, give or take a couple.

"Where'd he go?"

Actions:
Using Polymath to put eight ranks into Intimidate.
Using Intimidate to get information out of Marcus: [roll0]
Just In Case: [roll1]

[industrious]

Marcus


Will Save:[roll0]
Tough luck...


"I...I..."

Some hidden reserve of strength wells up inside the man, and he steels himself for what is to come.

"I...ain't...telling...you...nothing..."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

Lock-Up glares at Marcus for a moment before noticing the slight tremor in his right hand, the one holding onto the shirt. Blood loss, especially that brought on by being shot twice in the chest, can do that to you. Still, to stand up and refuse someone like Lock-Up the information that he needs, that takes guts. So, it's about time they turned those guts to water.

"Fine," he says. "Keep your secrets like a good little soldier."

He grips Marcus by both of his upper arms and maneuvers him so that he's facing Deadshot.

"Shoot him again."

JIC: [roll0]
Not taking any actual Actions; just giving Deadshot a chance to Intimidate him.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lietenant Walker

"Lemee try this first." Walker snaps. "Or at least wait 'till the cop's looking away before trying something that close to torture." Jesus, didn't these people know enough to have a good cop in the routine? Besides, that kind of interrogation often got you what you wanted to hear as opposed to what you needed, which could be quite the problem.

Well, this meant that she was being the good cop here. Well, wasn't that a disturbing thought...

Katherine moves forwards to the criminal and kneels down a little so she's even with his eye-level, and makes sure she speaks slowly and carefully as not to shock the man. "These guys wanna hurt you to getyour information." She shrugs, and shakes her head. "Myself, I just want to get at the information, and I see no need to hurt here anyone if I don't have to. Talk to me, and I'll get you protective custody. Face the facts, mister - Cluemaster's left you behind with all of us, the bastard, and I'm hardly the nice one. But I don't got back on my word." She shrugs, as if to show she understands the joke too.


Diplomacy roll: [roll]1d20+20[roll]
JIC[roll0]

[industrious]

Marcus

His eyes dart from Deadshot to Lock-Up to Walker, then back again. His shoulders slump as he begins to talk.

"He's gone back in time. 30 years or so."

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

"Time travel is impossible." Deadshot said matter-of-factly. "The guy in the wheelchair with the robot voice on the Discovery Channel said so. I mean, there's no way he could...right?" he said, looking around at the others for support. He did not want to believe what Mr. Marcus had just told them because it was the absolutely worst scenario possible. If Cluemaster went back in time he could knock over a trash can in a back alley and cause a nuclear war. He looked around them, waiting for the world to waver and change or blow up or something, but everything seemed exactly the same. He had to be lying.

"I'm gonna shoot him again." he decided.

MOTHERF--- DICE ROLLER!!! :smallfurious::smallfurious::smallfurious:
Intimidate: [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

Lock-Up meets his eyes with Deadshot's monocle and shakes his head before squeezing tighter on Marcus' upper arms and giving him a shake, too. He wants to roll his eyes and sigh. Time travel. Really. The nerve of some crooks...

"We want the truth, Markus, not science fiction. Where's the Cluemaster? What's really going on here?"

[industrious]

Marcus

He sneers at Deadshot's words.

"Because if Deadshot the all-knowing deems it impossible, it must be--Ack!"


Will Save:[roll0]


He stares at Lock-Up in horror.

"It's the truth! I'm telling you the truth! That's what the boss said he was going to do!"

Ra's Al-Ghul

"I, for one, am inclined to believe the man."

The years had not been kind to Ra's al-Ghul. His hair had turned almost entirely grey, his hands shriveled into little more than claws. There were liver spots, and a wracking cough whenever he exerted himself too often. He had brought over an muscular assistant named Ubu in addition to his secretary to help him physically.

"I came once I heard of the break-in. And my scientists have just informed me that such an event could, in fact be" He breaks off his speech, doubled over in coughing. A white handkerchief is pulled from his sleeve and a red handkerchief is put in the pocket of his gray Armani suit. There is still a red stain on his green silk tie.

"possible," he wheezes out.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

Bolton watches Ra's' display impassively, having no love for the man who had booted Lucius from his perch at Wayne Enterprises. True, perhaps Fox was better off on his own in the long wrong, free now to let his brilliant imagination soar without fear of censure, but it was the principle of these things that mattered most, and the name Ra's al-Ghul left a bitter taste on Bolton's tongue. When the coughing fit has ceased, however, Lock-Up speaks. His grip on Markus, it should be noted, does not subside. Criminals can be slippery, and an eel like Markus would just love to escape.

"You mean to tell me," he says, his voice sounding for all the world like a spoon caught in the garbage disposal of Hell's industrial kitchen, "that time travel is not only possible, but now apparently in the incompetent hands of the Cluemaster, a man who is to the profession of super-villainy what John Wayne Gacy was to children's birthday parties?"

He gives Markus a series of shakes, for emphasis.

"How on Earth did this happen?"

[industrious]

Tachyon Collider Room

"I never even got a birthday party," the Spoiler mutters.

"Believe me, Lock-Up. I did not know myself of the possibility until this evening. And my team has assured me that the Cluemaster's escape is merely one-way; he cannot return to the present."

Ra's takes a few halting steps forward.

"However, given the possibility that he manages to change the past and affect the present, I have a way to enable all of you to return to the past and capture him swiftly. Before history as we know it is changed."

"Wait," the Spoiler says, uncharacteristically assertive and tense. "You're sending us back in time to stop an arch-criminal within a certain time frame, or history will change forever?"

"Yes."

"Whoo!" she pumps her fist in the air once, and starts doing a funny little dance. "Boot up the Chronal Computer! Launch the Time Probes! Power Up the Engines! We're on the case, and we're chasing him through history!"

Ra's...doesn't quite know how to respond to that.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Deadshot raised his hand from the elbow, kind of waving it back and forth at the wrist a few times slowly deliberately. "Excuse me! Hi, important question? Did your 'team' figure out a way for us to come back once we stop him or are we going to be stuck thirty years in the past, too?" he asked. The raised eyebrow could be seen straight through the blank mask he wore.

[industrious]

Ra's Al-Ghul

"No, they did not. Because this solution is not from my team. The solution is not from any scientist at all. This solution is through magic, and indeed, it does offer a way back after your task is complete."

Ra's coughs again, and is forced to the floor. Ubu bends down to support him as he shakily makes his way back up.

"Forgive me, gentlemen. Ladies. I fear that this body is getting far too old."

[Terron]

"Now this is an interesting shift in events." Luigi mutters. He approaches to Ra, making a short bow. "Excuse me, but you said magic, am I right? So far, I've only seen a rabbit out of a hat on what magic is about. Perhaps you could explain a little bit more mister...." Luigi leaves the empty space for the man to complete with his name.

OOC: Luigi will use Well informed to make a Gather info check on Ra, once/if he identifies himself.
JICR: [roll0]

[industrious]

Ra's Al-Ghul

"Taking in more strays, are we, Detective? Al-Ghul. Ra's Al-Ghul. CEO of Wayne Enterprises. And I assure you, that magic is quite real."

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine has been silent for the past few minutes, merely reflexively suppressing ignoring the girl when Stephanie starts speaking. She's just trying to comprehend it all. Now, finally, she speaks. "Magic? Look, I could just about handle this stuff when it was science, but magic? What the hell is this?" She shakes her head, reluctant to believe any word of it. "Look, nevermind. That's not important. If this thing is true - and I mean if - what the hell happened thirty years ago that's so important?"

[industrious]

Ra's Al-Ghul

He raises an eyebrow, clearly shocked by Katherine's statement.

"Why, Lieutenant...everything. If you were to go back thirty years, you could use your knowledge of the future to make a killing on the stock market. You could slay your enemies before they were even born. Convince those who would be powerful in the future to work for you in the past, and thus shape the future as you see fit."

He gestures, and Ubu takes out a folding chair. He thankfully collapses onto it.

"And as for why magic...do you really believe anyone would have believed me if I claimed to be a practitioner a few years ago? I kept this secret, Lieutenant, so that I would attain my current job. And now my title is in jeopardy, for who knows what the Cluemaster is doing to the past?"

And suddenly, the man's theft of LexCorp's financial records makes perfect sense.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

"Magic." Katherine seethes. "We never had any kind of this weird junk before five years ago..." She realizes what she's saying, and shuts up.

Seeing Ra's body so degraded is unnerving for for the policewoman, as much as she'd never admit it. He's frankly a different man from the one she'd met five years ago, the one who would illustrate every discourse with a finely tuned turn of the hand or elegant gesture. Now, the mind may be better than ever, but it's as if to compensate for the body's failings. And she can't help the nagging feeling that all this 'magic' might be a product of some sort of dementia, or that this is how she and Allen and all the others may end up one day...

..If they're lucky, considering the survival rates of honest cops in Gotham. Or dishonest ones. So at least they probably didn't have to worry about that. Brushing off the thought, she faces Ra again. She has had a decent working relationship with him the few times they've spoken since way back then, even if she has trouble not mangling his name. "Okay, I'll accept that weird stuff happens these days. There's far too much evidence not too, even perhaps with time-travel, though I've not heard of that kind of thing before." She shrugs, and moves onto the important part. "But what the hell do you think I can do? This isn't my beat: it's another metaphysical alley altogether. I know the streets of Gotham, not strange magics and all that jazz. And I bet the same applies to most of you fre- people." She gestures at the 'Gotham Knights'. "Is there some way we can not go into this thing blind?"

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

The mountainous vigilante watches the proceedings carefully, having lowered Marcus to accommodate his view. Lock-Up believes in magic, himself. Until this point, he hadn't really thought that he did, having explained away said 'sorcerous powers' with the argument that shooting lighting from one's hands is no less a superpower than flight or invisibility, and therefore explainable by science, even if that science isn't yet available to us. However, deep in his mind, he knows that the King of Dreams is not scientifically explainable, and that therefore there must be other things that are similarly impossible.

So. He can accept this. Barely.

[industrious]

Ra's Al-Ghul

"Lieutenant, your task should be simple enough. Go back in time, and stop the Cluemaster before he does any mischief in the past, and return before you do the same."

He leans in closer to the group, despite being nearly ten feet away.

"It is imperative that you do not mess up the timeline yourselves. No matter what you see, no matter what horrors or injustice occurs, your sole concern must be the Cluemaster's defeat and swift return, or you can cause just as much damage as he can. As for going in blind..."

He shrugs and makes a dismissive hand wave. Or attempts to. His shoulders twitch at least. The hand wave is smooth, though.

"I would regard the fact that you are going in blind as a benefit. It means that the Cluemaster's manipulations haven't affected the present yet. Once we know what he did in the past, I believe it would be far too late for any of us."

[Terron]

"It doesn't sound like we have much of a choice either. We need to stop this lunatic before he disrupts the time-space continuum or whatever." Luigi remarks, accommodating his hat. "So I say we should get there as soon as possible. Are you able to cast this... spell... and transport us back in time mister Al-Ghul?"

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

R'as al Ghul. Kate's Arabic was rusty since her classes at West Point, but she knew enough to translate the name into English: The Demon's Head. Though the man himself had been a bit of a recluse, she was well informed on his actions through Wayne Industries. She had remained in the shadows ever since the Cluemaster made his theatrical departure - this seemed the time to make her appearance.

"There are more things in heaven and earth, o Lieutenant, than are dreamt of in your philosophy, to borrow a phrase from the Bard" she said, entering the light. "There is a power in the universe that modern science has not even begun to theorize might exist. Would you believe that a man could fly five years ago? Or that there were space cops with magic rings?"

She turned her attention to Ra's, shadowed by Ubu's massive frame. It was clear the giant could easily crush the feeble man with his thick hands, Ra's still commanded his respect. "I'll be honest - the concept of time travel makes my head hurt. If Cluemaster succeeded in his goals, then doesn't that mean that history would have already rewritten itself, and that this is how everything already turned out? Or are we ahead of some massive temporal tsunami, waiting to crash into the present?" She had questions about the magic that would transport them back into the past, but they remained unspoken, mostly because she really didn't understand much more mysticism than the Kabbalistic traditions she had studied.


JIC: 1d20

[Terron]

"I would guess that Cluemaster's modifications of the past would take him some time to finish. One doesn't dramatically change written history in a blink, I presume. Specially if one is looking for a particular outcome, yes?" Offers Luigi.

[industrious]

((Skipping ahead now. If anybody objects...well, don't worry, because this part is awesome.))

Ra's Al-Ghul

"I myself do not know. But I would rather err on the side of caution, wouldn't you, Faceless?"

For some reason, the CEO refuses to call the Question by her self-appointed title.

"Let us begin, shall we? Ubu! Take this bag of blessed ashes, and form a seven pointed star circumscribed by the circle of the tachyon collider. The rest of you are to stay within the heptagon formed in its center once the star is complete. Do not cross any of the lines until the spell is finished under any circumstances, or I cannot be held responsible for your fate. Is this understood?"

Some minutes later, the circle is complete (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpcTYKDc6y8/TcBmq4mx6gI/AAAAAAAAAxs/97ykB7w3Jtk/s1600/heptagram_stage4-01.png"), and the group remains huddled in the center, as Ra's slowly steps up, and begins the invocation.

"هناك سبعة الكائنات التي ليست آلهة. كانت موجودة قبل أن يحلم الإنسانية الآلهة. وبعد أن وجود إله آخر ميت. هناك سبعة كائنات موجودة لأن العميق في قلوبنا، ونحن نعلم ان وجدت." he intones, and the room goes quiet. Dimly, each realizes that there should be ambient sound. Should be something to hear from outside or in; the howl of wind, an approaching car, a leaky pipe. And yet...silence.

At each point where the symbol meets the shadow of the collider, a tall thin candle has been placed unlit.



"الليلة يجب علينا استدعاء كل منهم على الوفاء طلبنا. هذه الليلة سوف ندعوهم لاستجداء المساعدات والاهتمام."

It now feels intensely crowded in that center heptagon, as if the world itself has crowded in close to examine and to listen. The silence fell away, replaced by a half-seen and half-felt rhythm that was not wind or water or anything but the world itself, moving to the words that the aged CEO intoned.


"رب القدر، الأول لانهائية ، أتوسل اليك. يمنحنا القوة لضمان تدفق كتابك من أي وقت مضى صحيحا ، من الفجر إلىالنور أول مرة في نهاية. فتح البوابات من الوقت بالنسبة لنا."

The candle in front of them flickers to life, burning with a bright red flame.

"سيدة الموت ، والثاني لانهائية ، أتوسل اليك. دعونا التقدم بعيدا عن اجتماعنا الثاني وصوب الأول. تسمح لنا بالسفر إلى الوراء عبر المجال الخاص."

The next candle is widdershins to the first, and an orange flame begins to consume the wax. The not-wind begins to howl all the fiercer, but the fires remain perfectly still and upright.

"سيدي الحلم ، وثالثا لانهائية ، أنا ألتمس اليك. اسمحوا أوهام وكوابيس الماضي تظهر مرة أخرى؛ السماح للأحلام الشبابيعود للبشرية. السماح للرمال الزمن وبدوره عكس مسارها."

A yellow flame emerges next, and Ra's is forced to pause for breath, the tangible forces causing him to shudder and gasp. Ubu steps forward to help him, but is waved off.

"تدمير الرب، الرابع لانهائية ، أتوسل اليك. دعونا مزق فتح هذا الصنم كاذبة دعا السببية ، والحفاظ على الخلق الأصلي.السهم قد تايم تتحطم في متناول الخاص."

He seems to gain strength through defying the forces arrayed against him; resistance and obstinacy power his words now. They flow through him like an Old Testement Prophet, shouting his chant of defiance to High Heaven. The green flame is lit.

"الرغبة الرب، الخامسة من لانهائية ، أنا ألتمس اليك. اسمحوا لنا سيسود خلال دخلاء؛ انتصارنا تريده. في وسعكم لهذانرجو صالح."

The blue flame emerges after a brief pause in which the winds nearly die down, yet it burns by far the brightest of the four.

"الرب اليأس والسادس من لانهائية ، أنا ألتمس اليك. دعونا مقامرة سعادتنا في السحب من الوقت. فتح الأبواب لأخطاء الماضي والحزن."

An indigo flame flickers to life on their right side, barely visible.

"سيدة الهذيان، السابع لانهائية ، أتوسل اليك. اسمحوا البوابات المفتوحة وقت الظهر عند اكتمال مهمتهم. وربما يعودون الى مستقبل مألوفة وغريبة ، وبالقرب منها، وبعيدا عن المنزل."

The violet fire burns brightly, and unlike all of the others, flickers and dances crazily.

"فتح بوابات!" Ra's cries out, "فتح غيتس! فتح غيتس! يا سبعة اللوردات والسيدات! A claw-like hand is lifted up; skin stretched thin over bone and sinew. And the Gates Open.

A blinding flash, then everything is still, and dark, and cold.

[industrious]

Crime Alley, 30 years ago

No matter how far back you go, this place remains constant. A place of poverty and misery and filth and decay. 20 years ago (10 from now), this place would come to be temporarily known as Finger Alley, after the plentiful supply of budget-considerate ladies of the night. A crime wave seven years later would cause the place to be renamed Ripper Alley, until the general trend that swept Gotham simply returned it to its roots. Crime Alley. Where dark deeds are committed so regularly, that insurers would label anything lost in their willful neglect and the police would deem any death there a suicide.

The last time the group was here was after a particularly bizarre series of murders, and a confrontation with a group of individuals known to them only as The Man in the White Suit, the Woman in Black Leather, and the Hippie in Clashing Colors.

The group comes to on the rooftops of Crime Alley and opposite one of the narrow alleys that was the emergency exit of a vintage movie theater, the Cluemaster stares at them with no small degree of shock, dropping his briefcase onto the roof.

"No," he breathes. "How can you be here? You aren't supposed to be here!"


Combat Time. The Cluemaster rolled a 15 on initiative. Rolls in the OOC thread. You are allowed to post an initial reaction here, though, or put that in with your combat post.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

As the spell completed and the deafening roar of energy rose up to swallow them whole, Deadshot (of course) cried out, "Wait! I've changed my mind! I'm allergic to the eighties!" but then he was gone along with the other Gotham Knights, leaving only an echo behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ooh...did anyone get the number of that metaphysical bu- oh hey!" Deadshot said as he got his feet underneath him, wavering back and forth a bit as he got used to the feeling of solid ground again. He seemed to perk up when he recognized Cluemaster right in front of them. "It's you!" he said, unnecessarily. "Hold still, I brought you a present." he added, raising his arm to firing level.

[Terron]

Black Balestatore's scarf flickered with the impassive wind, and then, with the last intonation from the sage, his dark figure was gone in a flash of light, so bright he had to cover his own eyes.

When everything returned to normal, he found himself in a familiar place, a place of obscure and terrible deeds. But there was no time to think about the past. Cluemaster was there, defenceless. His gangster instinct took over for a second, Luigi outstretched his arm making something metallic sent a shiny reflex from his white gloved hand. In the blink of an eye, he swung his arm, throwing the small knife straight towards the Cluemaster.

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised, Injured.

Time travel, at least for Lyle Bolton, was unpleasant. As Ra's finished his mystic incantations, Lock-Up found himself feeling as though he were the sand in an hourglass, being siphoned off, squeezed, and then reassembled on the other end of a very thin tunnel. It disagreed with his stomach, to say the least. As his senses returned to normal, Lock-Up glanced around himself. Crime Alley. Rooftops. There's the old theater. And that means the Waynes had died right... there, in the brutal double-homicide that had driven their young son tragically insane. And then, there, the Cluemaster. Lock-Up points his nightstick at the villain. "Hands up," he growls. "Like it or not, you're coming with us, Arthur."

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate listened as Ra's intoned his spell. The hairs at the back of her neck began to stand up; she could feel the power behind his words as he spoke. Though he was just this side of being an invalid, the old man still had powers that made him a force to be reckoned with.

Her brow began to furrow as she listened to him speak. Something was familiar about his words - she was having trouble translating them from Arabic into English, but she knew they were about gods - no, entities before gods. Beings without ends. Endless.

It wasn't until the end of the ceremony that she truly remembered. A similarly frail man released from a mystic circle - far too similar to the one she stood in - a man who was a being beyond mortal comprehension. The circle was in a warehouse owned by Wayne Enterprises. Dream of the Endless he called Himself - and His sister was Death. Seven beings beyond the limitations of the universe - Hell, for all she knew, they created the limitations.

And Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, knew of them. It all clicked - far too late for her to do anything about it. Ra's finished his chant, and the ritual was complete.

She wasn't sure what time travel was going to be like - would there be the crash of distant thunder and flashes of light? Would there be pain? Would she see things that would drive her mad? It happened between the blinking of her eyes - in one moment, she was in the tachyon collider chamber, and the next, she was in Crime Alley. Her head snapped upwards as she heard the Cluemaster's voice.

"The same goes for you, Brown. You made it easy for us to track you down when you started getting ideas for capers from Back to the Future II. " She put an edge into her voice to taunt the Cluemaster - she wanted him focused on her, not on her allies.


JIC: [roll0]

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Normally, Katherine would respond to the Question's snippy Shakespeare with something equally snippy if cruder, but something was bothering her. Should she go back to Gotham, thirty years ago, she would not in the eyes of the city be a cop. Technically, she would not be a cop, just a nosy busybody with a badge thirty years out of date the wrong way with an authority derived from the barrel of a gun and a pointy metal stick. The thought made her bones ache. She would still be a cop in her head, where it counted, but everybody who took a vengeance a step too far or murdered for the sake of their streets or their greed or in anger was a cop in their head, too. Acting like the law was derived from you and you alone... that was a path for disaster.

The policewoman's too preoccupied with these thoughts to really notice her body moving into Ra's circle, not really believing anything's going to happen. Truth be told, she's half-humoring the old man, expecting him to do something to reassure himself and then have them go on their merry, sane, way. Then Ra opens his mouth, and the world changes.

Lieutenant Walker stares. "Holy-"

Time changes. Things whip by in the corner of her mind. Colors of dreamdust and nightmares run inside her eyeballs, etching images in strange inks across the contours of her sight. Katherine tries not to throw up.

"-Sh-

Katherine lands. Her skin is an unhealthy pale, and her eyes have sunken inside themselves so much that they seem almost black. She does not look healthy. Presumably, time-travel has some equivalent to airplane sickness, because Katherine's never liked that feeling of being in the control of another driver so entirely either. She gasps out loud, and looks around her. Crime alley. Good. It's still Gotham. It looks all wrong, out of place in ways that she can't understand, but it's still Gotham. She'll be okay long as she is in Gotham.

And there are crooks to catch. Katherine grips her cane and looks around for Stephanine. She's still sweating from the journey. "Kid? You okay? You here? Looks like there's gonna be a fight."


Initiative: [roll0]
JIC: [roll1]