A Death in the Family: A Reassembly One-Shot

[herodofcows]

You're standing outside of a shuttered restaurant. It's a fancy place with a nigh-illegible French name; one of the inevitable new dining locations to have sprung up when somebody started pumping a metric crapton of money into Aparo Park. Affordable housing had made way for high-rises with fancy glass siding. Shops had made way for boutiques. And mom-and-pop diners had made way for a place like . . . this.

Ordinarily, a restaurant like this would be doing gangbusters business right now. There should be lights in the windows, and a small cluster of nouveau riche looking at the menu and speculating on wait times for a table. But tonight, it's shuttered. And that's why you're here.

"He's in. Black Mask has entered through the back way. Mission begins."

You haven't been training with Batman for long, but it hasn't been what you'd expected. After the initial fracas with Bullseye, he'd taken you running across the rooftops with no apparent destination before dropping away and texting you a time and place to meet. When you'd next met him, he'd shown you into Wayne Enterprises in his civilian identity: you'd taken a back elevator down to the Applied Sciences division, where he and someone named Lucius Fox had told you to punch a metal plate with different levels of force. The next day, you'd returned to the Applied Sciences division and been put through your paces: running, jumping, lifting, and so forth. The next day, Batman (or, Peter . . . honestly, you're still not 100% on what to call him) had taken you to an abandoned warehouse along the waterfront and had you practice something called mindful meditation.

No martial arts training, no secret techniques, no further advice beyond whatever task at hand. If this is training, it feels slightly off-kilter.

And now, with little preamble, here you are being expected to take down a restaurant full of gangsters. It's 8 pm on a Thursday, and despite the warm air you're feeling a little shivery. The three story building (two for the restaurant, one for the fancy apartments above) looms in front of you, an oddly ominous monolith of plaster and brick.

"Your test is as follows:" Batman continues, hiss-growling into your earpiece, "I want you to go in there and deal with Black Mask and his men DISCRETELY and with MINIMAL force. From where I'm waiting, I should not be able to tell that anything unusual is happening. Minimal collateral damage or unnecessary injury. You have until the meeting ends to do this. Go!"

[Llyarden]

Discretely and with minimal force. Two words I don't expect to apply to me. Ciaran wasn't going to argue, though. That seemed like it wouldn't get him very far. (Though he did wonder, considering all the destruction that Batman could cause with things like his car, whether it was not slightly hypocritical for him to be talking about minimal collateral damage.)

He supposed Batman wasn't going to tell him exactly where he was waiting and watching. That would just make things too easy.

He paused for a moment to consider. If there was a back way that Black Mask had entered in, the guards there would probably be too busy making sure they didn't upset their boss to notice his approach. Alternatively, they might be extremely on alert and waiting for anyone trying to come after Black Mask before he was 'safely' inside. Either way, they were probably reporting in every so often, which meant that he would have to leave them to last.

He found himself wondering if Batman had any other pupils. Perhaps more to the point, he wondered if Batman would tell him if he did. He hadn't brought up the matter of Jason Todd yet, but the question was still in the back of his mind...what had happened to turn a Robin into a raving lunatic with (apparently) a muderous hatred for Nightwing?

Putting those thoughts aside for the moment, he quietly crossed the road and moved until he was out of sight of the other buildings on the road - and any guards that Black Mask might have posted on the perimeter, though given that the windows were shuttered one would assume that he was trying to be discrete himself. Then he fired his grapple gun upwards, using it to pull himself onto the wall of the second floor, and then moved from shuttered window to shuttered window until he found one that didn't immediately seem to have people on the other side of it, and as quietly as he could broke his way through it.

Stealth (lol): [roll0]
Perception: [roll1]

[herodofcows]

Perception: [roll0] (Crit reduces this result by 5, since you found the optimal area for insertion)

You manage to grapnel your way up to the second floor with no problem. What few passerby there are do not even notice your admittedly graceless swings from alleyway to second story. Or, if any do, they have the grace not to shout about it. It's an expected thing in Gotham to find the odd shadowy figure lurking across the rooftops.

Peering into the second story window, you see that the top floor of the restaurant is a spacious setup with many tables arranged into a prominent square. There are none of the expected men in suits seated around the square, but there are a few gentlemen in much more casual dress . . . and far heavier armament. You can't immediately see Black Mask, but you know he's in the building.

The first several windows are a bust, since the room is too open and you'd be spotted nearly immediately. After a bit, though, you come across a stroke of luck: small private dining areas, half-shuttered and loaded up with unnecessary tables and dishracks. It's the perfect place to sneak into, and so far nobody has noticed you hanging outside the edge of the building!

The guards, on the other hand . . .

Crunch

You try to be stealthy about breaking in, but the window crumples in your hand like paper. You freeze for a moment . . . and swear to yourself as you hear an exclamation.

"Hey, didja hear that?"

A brief pregnant pause, and you find yourself cursing the Gotham City thug culture: years of dealing with Batman has created only two reasonable responses to an unexpected noise during illegal activity:

1. Charge in and hope you have enough guys, or

2. Run, call for backup, and THEN charge in and hope you have enough guys.

Either way, they're unlikely to be able to actually HURT you, but it might get loud in just a second.

Footsteps hurry over to the door. You hear automatic weapons make a series of unpleasant-sounding clicking noises.

"When I say go, okay?" one of them hisses to the others, "Three . . . two . . ."

[Llyarden]

Ciaran had the grapple gun out already, and quickly fired it again, zipping up to just above the door that the guards were about to enter in. Without the time to put the window back in any reasonable state, it would be pretty obvious what he'd done, so he would have to take these...however many it was...down.

Of course, this was Gotham, so perhaps looking up would be their first move. But then again, lurking around in high places had worked for Batman for goodness knows how long, so there was clearly something to it.

Once above the door, Ciaran returned the grapple gun to his pocket, clinging to the wall by the simple means of digging his fingers through it. Once everyone that seemed they would be coming in did so, he would drop down to cut off their only means of escape. He just needed to get to their guns before they could fire them.

Move: Fly up to the ceiling above the door, using Wall-Crawling to hang there without need of an Athletics check.
Standard: Ready an action. Once all the guards that look like they're coming in have done so, drop down and attack, accurate attacking for 2, (assuming the guards are Minions) routine 18 to hit, DC27 Toughness vs damage and DC22 Strength vs Disarm. Takedown 2 to continue on. If any are still up, Extra Effort to do the same thing again. Because of how readied actions work, this should occur before they get to do any shooting.

[herodofcows]

". . . one, GO!"

Just as you zip to the ceiling, the door comes crashing open. Four unfriendly looking gentlemen file in with something vaguely resembling military precision, checking under the furniture and behind the dish racks.

"Ain't nobody-" begins one of the gunners, with clear notes of relief on his face, before looking and seeing the crushed window.

"Oh . . . ohhhh n-"

And then you are upon them.

[roll0] vs. 27, [roll1] vs. 22
[roll2] vs. 27, [roll3] vs. 22
[roll4] vs. 27, [roll5] vs. 22
[roll6] vs. 27, [roll7] vs. 22

[roll8] vs. 15

The first guy barely manages an "ulp!" before your fist has connected to the side of his face, sending him crashing to the ground. You grab the guns out of the hands of the next two while the third guy is spinning around, bashing them both with their own rifle stocks. The last one just manages to get his gun up, but you grab his gun and bring him in for a final brutal headbutt that sends him thudding to the ground.

"Not bad," you hear Batman whisper over the intercom. You can't quite tell if it's a good "not bad" or a condescending one, though . . .

You see that the guards have radios on their belts. Nobody has called in, so hopefully everything is all right. Still, something to watch out for.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran wondered vaguely how Batman knew exactly what he was doing at any given time, but decided not to bring it up. Maybe he had a hidden camera on him or something.

After a brief pause to check that no-one else seemed to be heading in his direction, he knelt down to pull the radio off of the closest thug's belt, pulling out a pair of headphones from one of his pockets and double-checking to see if there was a convenient headphone port on them. It wouldn't hurt to know what Black Mask's men were saying. And then, not crouched down but moving as quietly as he could manage, he stepped out into the corridor and closed the door behind him. He'd thought about trying to hide the bodies, but all the time he spent trying to do so would be time that he could be found, plus anyone making a concerted effort to look for them would've found them anyway.

He took a quick look around, wishing he'd thought to bring a map with him. His plan was to take down any guards outside the big, main room first. After his experiences with Harley Quinn and Zsasz, he wasn't discounting the possibility that Black Mask was more than just a crime lord.

Ciaran does have a commlink for the whole 'intercepting their communications' thing (though I'm not sure if that's the one Batman is using to communicate with him) if that helps.

More Stealth: [roll0]
And more Perception: [roll1]

[herodofcows]

The upstairs dining room is empty now, its previous guards having been smashed about the inside of one of the private rooms. The room is dimly lit, mostly by the light leaking out from the spiral staircase on the far side of the room leading downstairs to the first-floor dining area. You can hear voices coming up from down below, mostly in tones suggesting boisterous enjoyment of some decent booze, but no words manage to stand out. It looks like the guards up here were more of a "just-in-case" than any serious expectation of an attack from above.

Nothing from the radios, either. You seem to have bought yourself a little bit of time to take a breather and assess the situation.

[Llyarden]

Once he was confident that there was no-one about to interrupt him, Ciaran paused for a few moments to consider the situation. It was very likely that heading downstairs would bring the entire complement of Black Mask's guards (and possibly Black Mask himself) down on him, and while that would be unlikely to be a problem it would probably not be quite as discrete as Batman had requested.

So instead Ciaran decided to try something a little different. Moving back to the room he'd entered through, he left the door open just a tiny amount - not enough that any of the unconscious guards could be seen from outside, but enough that it would obviously be open when it shouldn't - and then retrieved the radio he'd pilfered earlier, holding down the transmit button and tapping the microphone lightly before returning to his hiding spot above the door. If he was lucky, a guard or two might come to figure out what was going on. Which would give him the opportunity to ask a few questions. Which, he reflected, he probably should've done the first time around.

Not sure what if anything I should roll for the radio trickery, but let's try Deception: [roll0] Anyone else feel like the dice are trying to make up for Ciaran's rolls in the main arc?

[herodofcows]

You tap on the microphone a few times and make tracks back to the room. The maneuver works better than you could have hoped!

Like, substantially better.

Like, "informs-you-of-a-problem-you-didn't-even-know-you-had" better.

You hear footsteps coming up the staircase on the far side of the dining room.

"'ey, Graham?" a voice calls out with only a token attempt to stay discreet, "One a' you guys got a problem with your radios? I got a replace . . . ment . . ."

You hear the expected easing into silence and clicking of a rifle being loaded. Ostensibly-stealthy footsteps begin to prowl down the hallway towards the open door, coming closer . . . closer . . .

FUMPH

"MMMMMPH!"

You hear the henchman try to cry out, but something has covered his mouth and shoved him up against the wall near the open door.

You hear the whisper of a blade being drawn from its sheath, and you hear a hissing voice whisper a pointed statement (presumably to go along with a pointed weapon).

"I am going to remove my hand in a moment. Do anything other than answer my questions and I will kill you. Understood?"

After a second, you hear the guard breathing louder again. The newcomer speaks again in a whisper. Her voice is female, but the rest is almost indistinguishable.

"Tell me how many guards there are below, and who is present at the meeting."

The guard outside is hyperventilating and gasping lightly. From your ceiling perch, you can hear everything but you cannot see. What do you do?

[Llyarden]

Ciaran paused. He hadn't expected that.

Part of him wondered if this was another one of Batman's proteges. It didn't seem all that unlikely for two of them to have been set the same mission without Batman bothering to tell either of them. The fact that Batman was conspicuously quiet, despite having apparently been watching what was going on earlier, might have leant towards supporting that theory.

On the other hand, the threat of death wouldn't be believeable coming from one of Batman's sidekicks unless whoever it - she - was was really convincing. And, of course, there was no guarantee that this was one of the good guys at all.

On the other (other?) hand, a fight with someone who was completely unknown would probably end up being quite loud, which was rather against the point of the effort Ciaran had put in so far, and would be rather embarrassing if they were in fact on the same side after all.

After a moment's hesitation, Ciaran let himself fall from his position above the door, landing as quietly as he could and clicking on his voice modulator at the same time. He suddenly realised why Nightwing was always making sly puns. They were an excellent way of making a potential opponent pause. "Sorry, that was my trap, not yours," he said, trying to inject the same easy confidence he'd seen (or rather, heard) Nightwing use into his voice, and taking a step or two to maneuver himself to get a view of whoever the new arrival was without being in pointy-weapon range.

Er...more deception? I dunno. [roll0] Ciaran needs to practice his witty remarks.
And maybe Perception to try to identify whoever it is if she's well-known: [roll1]

[herodofcows]

Ninjas. Why did it have to be ninjas?

There are three of them that you can see, standing within the large dining area in poses suggesting some attempt at stealth. They're all dressed in black, but you can see by the faint red lining that they are ninjas of the Hand. Their eyes all turn to you, and their hands dart to their weapons.

The woman standing before you, though? She doesn't even flinch.

She's got the mook held with one hand around his neck, loosening it only somewhat so he can speak. Her other hand holds a short blade, which is pressed dangerously close to her victim's stomach. She's wearing a dark red shirt, a black trench coat, and black pants . . . and somehow manages not to look like she's trying to rip off the Matrix.

You don't think you've even heard of her before . . .

"Child," she whispers calmly, turning slightly to face you, "You trespass on Hand business tonight. The men below have been marked for death. You have not. Leave, before that changes."

She turns back fully to face the shaking henchman.

"Talk."

"L-l-l-ike a coupla dozen guards. Black Mask is there, plus Silke, Turk, and Stanchion. Couple out-of-town guys from Star City. That's all I know, I swear! Please don't kill me . . ." the guard whispers, gulping.

[Llyarden]

Really, Batman? Ciaran thought irritably. The one time you muttering in my ear would be useful and now you decide to shut up? (The possibility that the Hand had already taken out Batman was not one that occurred to him. Or rather, it occurred to him and was summarily discounted as impossible.)

Out loud in response to the woman, he said "I don't really think I can do that. Sorry," he added after a moment. He didn't particularly want to start an argument with the Hand, but for much the same reason as he hadn't let the Joker die, he wasn't going to just sit back and let them assassinate their way through the entire building. Especially when that would mean he would fail Batman's little test. And especially not after the woman had called him 'child.' That was just rude.

Ciaran will Interpose for any attempt on the woman's part to kill the guy she grabbed.

[herodofcows]

The blade would have reached the man's heart in under a second.

Your leap is even faster.

Kshhh

The blade shatters against your midriff as you knock the gangster out of the way. You have a brief glimpse into the woman's eyes as you lunge into the way of her sword. They are a dark brown, and perfectly still. It's like looking into the eyes of a painting.

"Begin the cull," she growls to the assembled ninjas of the Hand. Who immediately spring towards the stairs. Hand ninjas don't really walk, you notice. They seem to locomote purely by running along unusual surfaces or through constantly lunging.

One of them pauses a moment to look back before lunging forward.

The woman you face, for her part, tosses the guard aside. He struggles up and goes running heedlessly for the stairs.

"I know your sort," she intones, backing up and sinking into some kind of martial arts stance, "You think your self untouchable."

She moves faster than your eyes can follow, hitting you with the heels of her hands along your neck and face.

[roll0] vs. 16, [roll1] vs. equivalent DC 25+Multiattack, [roll2] vs. equivalent DC 20+Multiattack Weaken Toughness

-4 from active defenses to Lady Shiva

Lady Shiva is fine
You are Bruised and Dazed

You find yourself gasping and wheezing with the sudden blossoms of weakness that seem to form along your head, trickling down your body as though carried by your blood. You feel faint and unfocused, out of sorts. What did she just DO to you?

"I promise you," the woman hisses, not even breathing heavily as she stares at you with her hand planted into your carotid, "even gods fall when Lady Shiva seeks to bring them low."

You can't help but notice that she's left herself wiiiide open to an attack. What do you do? (As if we couldn't guess)

[Llyarden]

Ciaran winced as...Shiva, apparently...did whatever it was that she was doing. It reminded him slightly of White Cobra's fighting style, but at the same time rather different.

He wasn't going to let her see how effective her strikes had been, though. After a moment to gather his thoughts he straightened up. "Never said I was untouchable," he replied coldly. Since she'd been so kind to keep her hand against his neck, he grabbed her outstretched limb and twisted, hopefully levering her to the floor.

Since I don't know what's in that Perception check yet, if it's something major Ciaran's actions may change. But for now...

Perception (DC20): [roll0] Ciaran has other things on his mind.

Move: Dazed.
Standard: Attack Shiva, all-out attacking for 3 and accurate attacking for 2: [roll1]. Since I have a silly number of hero points from the last arc, if the die result is below a 10 I'll reroll it: [roll2]. On a hit, DC27 Toughness vs damage and DC22 Athletics or Acrobatics vs Move Object as a trip attempt.

Status: 1 Bruise, Dazed this round, -3 to active defences.

[herodofcows]

[roll0] vs. DC 27, [roll1] vs. DC 22 Acrobatics (only on a 1 does she go down). If the toughness roll screws her, Luck Reroll: [roll2]

[roll3] vs. 13, [roll4] vs. effective DC 25+Multiattack, [roll5] vs. effective DC 20+Multiattack Weaken Toughness.

Stealth roll: [roll6] vs. [roll7]

If she's bruised and dazed, forget the stealth roll. Luck reroll only if she's staggered or incapacitated.

Shiva's arm twists over your head, but she follows the pull of your arm and turns it into a graceful flip over your shoulder. Wrenching herself from your grasp, she attempts to bring you low with the same flurry of blows as last time, but you can see her arm was hurt by your motion and she's not able to exert the same kind of force that had previously messed you up so.

And then, just as soon as her assault begins . . . she vanishes. The blows stop coming, and when you spin around to look behind you there's no trace of her.

Looking around the room, you suddenly see just how many hiding places there potentially are . . .

And to make matters worse, the lights go out below and you're plunged into near-total shadow.

"Stepping in," the voice in your earpiece suddenly perks up, "New plan: stop the Hand."

And he cuts out. Man, Parker isn't exactly a master of overcommunication, is he?

Below, you hear the sounds of guns being cocked and swords being drawn.

Glass breaks as Batman enters the building, and flesh thuds as he goes to work.

[Llyarden]

Gee, you don't say.

Ciaran paused as all the lights went out. He wondered if that had been Batman's fault or the Hand's. Batman undoubtedly had some sort of fancy night-vision goggles or something, but Ciaran did not.

He paused for a moment to take a breath. 'Lady' Shiva might have disappeared from sight, but after smacking him in the face a dozen or so times he found that he could still smell a lingering scent that he could, though some unconscious capability, associate with the ninja.

Ciaran closed his eyes, letting the scent of Shiva lead him to her.

Move: Heal with Adrenaline Surge, which can't fail.
Extra Effort: Power Stunt from Venom Surge: Senses 7 (Ranged Analytical Accurate Scent, Scent Counters Concealment (Overlapping Scents)). I'm...not completely sure whether that's thematically appropriate for a Venom-based ability, but it is fitting for Mirakuru, which as I think I mentioned in the chatpad is what Ciaran's powers were originally supposed to be; it's just that it doesn't seem to exist in the main DC universe so Venom was the closest thing I could think of.
Standard: Depends on whether I can see (or rather, smell) Shiva now.

Status: Currently fine.
Temp'd off conditions: 1 Bruise.

[herodofcows]

[roll0] vs. 10

Shiva's scent is elusive. Even the baseline scents you'd expect from basic biology keep getting lost and shuffled about amidst the smell of carpeting, linens, silverware . . .

But in the end, you catch it.

She's crouched like a tiger behind a nearby set of tables, circling you slowly.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran paused for a moment, stock-still, and then darted towards Shiva, kicking the table that she was hiding behind in her direction and following the attack up by trying to slam her with both hands in the stomach. He wasn't sure how long he could keep track of her scent and he had no intention of letting her slip away again. That would just be embarrassing.

Standard: Charge Shiva with Rending Charge, all-out attacking for 3 and accurate attacking for 2 again: [roll0]. On a hit, DC27 Toughness vs damage and DC22 Fort vs Weaken Toughness. I'm...just going to reroll that. Reroll here (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showsinglepost.php?p=20313273&postcount=1739) for 24 after Improve Roll

Status: -3 to active defences, Fatigued in one round.
Temp'd off conditions: 1 Bruise.

[herodofcows]

[roll0] vs. DC 27, [roll1] vs. 22

If she's still standing, [roll2] vs. [roll3].

Shiva is Bruised 2 and Dazed and Weakened (Toughness) 2

Shiva manages to roll with the table just fine, but Ciaran's body blow sends her sprawling into the wall. She picks herself up gingerly, a small smile playing across her lips as she eyes Ciaran disdainfully.

"You're a clod playing in a world that you could never understand, child," she sneers, resuming her defensive stance, "I hear the Bat below . . . is he trying to teach you, little boy? Does he think you might have the makings of a man within you? I think he lies to himself, little boy. I think you are a labor of pity."

Two knives appear in her hands and she twirls them dexterously.

"I think I will show him this, little boy. I think I will leave your body for the Bat to find, tied up and bleeding. I think I will cut you for every tear I make you shed, little boy. Perhaps you will run out of tears before you run out of blood. What will you do, little boy? Very little, I think."

[Llyarden]

Almost before Shiva finished speaking, Ciaran sprang, attempts at witty remarks forgotten entirely, crashing through the ruins of the table to repeat his previous blow - discretion, judging from the sounds below, was now vastly less of an issue. And then he followed it up with a surprisingly martial attack for him, pivoting in an attempt to land a kick roughly in Shiva's stomach.

Needless to say, he had not taken kindly to her insults.

Move: I don't think Shiva moved anywhere? If she did, get back into close range.
Standard: Attack Shiva with an unarmed strike, all-out/accurate attacking for 3 and 2 respectively: [roll0]. DC27 Toughness on a hit.
Extra Effort: Assuming Ciaran hasn't, like, fallen out of the window at this point or something, do it again, this time power attacking for 2: [roll1]. DC29 Toughness on a hit.

Status: Fatigued, Exhausted next round, -3 to active defences.

[herodofcows]

[roll0] vs. DC 27, [roll1] vs. DC 29, [roll2] vs. the worst of the two.

Given that she's being battered pretty hard, I'm gonna suspect that she won't be getting up, Luck Reroll notwithstanding. But just in case!

[roll3] vs. 13, [roll4] vs. effective DC 21+Multiattack. Shiva will be fatigued next round.

Acrobatics and Athletics: [roll5] and [roll6] if she has a move action in her. She doesn't!

Shiva is Bruised 4, Dazed (One round), Weakened Toughness 1, and Fatigued

Ciaran is effectively Bruised and Dazed (Technically Bruised 2 and Dazed)

Shiva tries to pivot out of the way, likely attempting to send you crashing through the wall and having a merry old laugh at your expense. Unfortunately for her, the table flying towards her forces a course correction that sends her right back into your rising kicks.

She does not cry out as your blows land, but the wall crumbles as she is knocked into it yet again. One more good blow and the restaurant will have a brand new open window.

Her hand flashes crimson, and one of the knives slashes along your chest. Maybe it's magic, or chi, or who knows what, but it leaves a heck of a mark and seems to vibrate through your whole body. You find yourself with the same feeling of disorientation that you'd fought earlier when she'd hit you with her palms.

". . . little . . . BOY . . ." she snarls, clearly still intent on goading you.

Below, it sounds like there's a full-on brawl in progress. You hear gunfire start up. It seems the gangsters below have shaken out the cobwebs and begun to fight back at last . . .

"Take your time," you hear Batman grunt into your earpiece, "No rush . . ."

[Llyarden]

Ciaran paused for a moment with a wince as her dagger scored across his chest. Shiva's taunts were less frustrating when he was clearly beating her, magic chi knife powers aside.

The crumbling wall made him reconsider his options. Not only did knocking her out of the buliding give her plenty of opportunity to hide, but they were on the second floor. And she might have been a Hand...sergeant, or whatever the secretive assassin's guild equivalent was...but if she didn't have the opportunity to save herself from falling, that would probably hurt.

He sidestepped quickly, swiping at Shiva with a wild backhand aimed to knock her away from the wall and in the approximate direction that the Hand ninjas had gone.

As for Batman, Ciaran took him at his word. They were only gangsters. With guns. And a few assassins. And Black Mask and whoever the other people were, who might have had any level of abilities. Still. It was Batman.

First off, since Ciaran's resistance roll is a little off, rerolling the Parry save (DC22 after Multiattack): [roll0]. Bruised & Dazed for real this time.

Then use my third of four hero points to not be Exhausted.

Move: Dazed or none, depending.
Standard: Attack Shiva, all-out attacking for 5: [roll1] DC29 Toughness on hit.

Status: 1 Bruise, Dazed this round. -5 to active defences, Fatigued.

[herodofcows]

[roll0] vs. Toughness DC 29

If she manages to somehow stay standing, same as last attack: [roll1] vs. 11, [roll2] vs. effective DC 23+Multiattack

Ciaran (1) is Bruised 2, Staggered, (But really Bruised 3) and Fatigued

Lady Shiva is Bruised 5, Dazed, Fatigued, -5 Active Defenses

Your backhand sends Lady Shiva crashing through two tables before landing in an unfortunate heap near the stairs.

She struggles to her feet and snarls bitterly at you.

"Powerful . . . untouchable . . . vulnerable to magic . . . I know your kind, alien. I know your kind . . ."

In a dramatic motion, she sweeps her daggers out in a complicated twirling motion. A spark seems to touch off as they scrape together and they ignite into crimson semi-transparent flame . . . or something . . . seriously, who can keep up with this Dragon Ball s***?

"HAI!"

With the loudest cry she's emitted all evening, she lunges upon you for a final dervish-esque flurry of blows. They scorch through you as the blades find impossible purchase in your unbreakable skin, and the sensation buzzes through you like a million plucked strings.

It's the worst she could possibly do: Magic and blades in an all-out attempt to put you down.

And you see a brief spasm of fear flicker across her face when she sees it wasn't enough.

[Llyarden]

The magical blades scored across Ciaran's skin, making him stagger backwards, cursing to himself quietly. Shiva's slight look of fear made him grin, though. He was aware enough of his own situation to know that he wouldn't be able to withstand many more of those enchanted attacks. This had to end, now.

He sprang after Shiva, swinging with both hands in an attempt to slam her into the wall by the stairs before following it up with another kick.

It was only after that that he paused to consider what she'd said.

Wait, what?

Move: Staggered.
Standard: Attack Shiva, all-out attacking for 5 and power attacking for 1: [roll0]. DC30 Toughness on hit. I hate
Extra Effort: If she's still up, do it again: [roll1]. All the dice.

...I'll use my final hero point to reroll the first attack for 23 to hit.

Status: 2 Bruises, Staggered, Fatigued, Exhausted next round, -5 to active defences.

[herodofcows]

Shiva avoids your fists, but the kick catches her in the midriff. You feel a few of her ribs crack as she rockets away from you and rolls to a graceless halt at the edge of the stairs. Throughout, she doesn't make a sound.

You hear that the gunfire has mostly ceased below, but blades continue to ring and clank against armor amidst the now-familiar rhythm of Batman sequentially giving his foes what-for.

Outside the window, you see that many of Black Mask's thugs have streamed into the street and are fleeing the scene. Most are going west, towards the Park Row area of the city.

"Are you in the bathroom?" Batman grumbles into your earpiece.

[Llyarden]

"I was busy," Ciaran replied shortly, taking a moment to catch his breath before picking up Shiva (none too gently) and making his way down the stairs. The pain of her magical chi blades was already fading. He wondered if Batman had a special prison like the Misfits did to store people like her - he somehow suspected that a normal prison wouldn't hold her. "Also I think I just got mistaken for a Kryptonian," he added after a moment. Even though his disguised voice his bemusement was obvious.

Because if Shiva meant something else by that I have no idea what it was.

Recover from Staggered, switch out of the power stunt, and heal with Adrenaline Surge (which heals both Bruises even on a one). Then Ciaran will make his way downstairs, taking Shiva with him.

[herodofcows]

"Mmm," Batman grunts into your ear, "Racist."

You descend the reasonably spacious spiral staircase like the belle of the ball, with Lady Shiva draped over your shoulder like a misplaced and oversized corsage.

An indistinct scene of chaos and carnage greets you as you descend. Lit only by the streetlights outside, you see a dim swarm of ninjas leaping and swinging and slashing through the air, advancing on and retreating from Batman as he takes on all comers. Bodies are strewn across the floor, but in the dim light it's difficult to tell how many are unconscious versus dead.

There is a brief shocked pause as you emerge below with Lady Shiva's prostrate body in tow. Even Batman drops his guard for a moment.

"Not bad," he says, and this time you can hear for sure that it's an approving statement.

One second later, you're deluged by angry ninjas. Most attack you with sword and sai and nunchuck and chain, and all seem surprised when the effect is diddly-squat. A few of the more tactically-aware members focus in on Lady Shiva, and attempt to tear her from your grasp!

Unfortunately for them, the only result of this tide of fierce martial prowess is further damage to your clothes (once again making you look somewhat punk-chic) and an embarrassing tug-of-war over the form of Lady Shiva.

The majority are unadjusted attacks that wouldn't pierce your Impervious, sooo to heck with that.

Disarm attempts: [roll0] vs. [roll1] Hahaaaa NOPE

[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

Each roll of 10 or above gives a +2 to the original roll. Each roll of 20 or above gives a +5.

Also, the dim light gives everyone Concealment from you, so you'll take a -2 on your attack checks until the lights go back on.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran, whose wide grin at Batman's praise was mercifully hidden by the relative lack of light (and his hood), was just a touch surprised that the ninjas didn't seem too concerned about the possibility of accidentally injuring Shiva. He'd been toying with the idea of trying to use her as a bargaining chip, but it didn't look like that was likely to work.

There were also a lot more ninjas than had dropped in on him. He wondered where they'd all come from. Maybe they'd called in backup when they'd realised Batman was here.

"I need to get...indestructible clothes or something," he muttered to himself, looking at yet another ruined hoodie. "Oh, go away!" he complained irritably, swiping at the closest ninja with the arm that wasn't occupied in holding Shiva.

I don't think Team Checks quite stack like that, because that would be pretty crazy. Also, if the ninjas don't have Imp. Disarm, reaction disarm: [roll0]

Move: None.
Standard: Attack a ninja. Let's say the one who was the lead actor in the disarm attempt for no particular reason other than arbitrariness. All-out/accurate attack for 4 and 2 respectively. If they're Minions, Routine for 20 to hit, otherwise [roll1]. DC27 Toughness vs damage and DC22 Strength or Dodge vs Move object on a hit. If they are Minions, continue with Takedown 2. Yep, Ciaran's dice hate him again.

Status: Fatigued, -4 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 3 Bruises.

[herodofcows]

It was an Aid action, not a Team Check. Regardless!

[roll0] vs. 22

Unfortunately, the ninjas are defense-shifted minions, so no dice on the routine attack.

THIS, though, is a Team Attack

[roll1] vs. 12, [roll2] vs. Effective DC 19+Halved Multiattack

Each of the below that beats 12 adds a +1 to the DC. Each that beats 22 adds +2.5 to the DC

[roll3] vs. 12 +1
[roll4] vs. 12 +2.5
[roll5] vs. 12 +2.5
[roll6] vs. 12
[roll7] vs. 12 +2.5
[roll8] vs. 12 +1
[roll9] vs. 12 +1
[roll10] vs. 12 +1
[roll11] vs. 12

+11.5 total. +1 from original Multiattack. Damage DC 31.5. NO DICE

The ninja gasps and leaps back as you yank the blade from his hands. The twenty-odd remaining Hand warriors all follow suit, circling you in preparation for some great flurry of blows.

"STRIKE!!"

Twenty ninjas leap into the air in a choreographed dance of swinging blades and furious cries, but only ten actually manage to assault you properly.

The rest come down with a sudden case of Batman.

"You need a proper costume. Unstable molecules. Armor, maybe," he calls, battering four ninjas at once with an impressive array of punches, "I'll call the Wasp when tonight is done."

You quickly see the truth to his words. Your blows are too slow to hit the ninjas that surround you, and even their most coordinated assault is unable to draw a drop of blood from you. Unfortunately, they do draw considerable fabric. Apparently 8:15 pm is now shirtless o'clock.

[Llyarden]

This was getting annoying. Not just the fact that his clothes had been entirely ruined, but also the fact that the ninjas were too fast for him to hit effectively. They might not have been able to hurt him, but this was just embarrassing.

Though he was now holding a sword.

Thing was, Ciaran rarely landed a solid blow anyway. He was strong enough to do a sizeable amount of damage with just a glancing blow. It seemed a reasonable assumption that if he was using a sword (or indeed any other weapon) that effect would just be exacerbated, much in the same way as he'd used the warehouse wall as a weapon against the various Skrull-Todds.

So he decided to put his theory to the test, switching his grip on the sword to actually hold it by the handle and advancing on the ninjas. It was obvious that he had no idea how to use a sword beyond 'swing it at the other guy,' but his attacks were fast enough that avoiding them entirely would be far from easy and powerful enough that even a slight injury would be dangerous.

This pretty much perfectly links up with what I was aiming for Ciaran to do eventually, so that's convenient.

Extra Effort: Power Stunt from Strength Damage: Damage 8, Accurate 6.
Standard: Try again with this whole 'hitting minions' thing. All-out attacking for 5, Routine for this time 27 to hit and DC23 Toughness vs damage. And Takedown 2. He is still fighting nonlethally, just to clarify. (Or, at least, as best he can.)

(Technically speaking, if Ciaran were actually using the sword, it would almost certainly break after his first attack, but the Power Stunt kinda gets around that.)

Status: Fatigued, Exhausted next round, -5 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 3 Bruises.

[herodofcows]

You quickly discover that effectively swinging a sword is somewhat more complicated than the movies (or hanging out with Ronin) would suggest. Many of your blows end up landing with the flat of the blade, or else at the wrong angle.

Thankfully, super strength means this does not pose a significant impediment to the goal of "beat the ninjas hollow".

The ninjas go flying in the face of your wildly-swinging sword. Some turn to dust as they land, but most just fall to the ground groaning. Some go catapulting across the room, while others simply faceplant into the ground. Either way, ten ninjas very quickly become six pain-filled heaps and four piles of dust.

Some might allow their student to pause and savor their first major triumph, but Parker apparently has other plans.

"Grab Shiva," he orders, going to a slumped figure in one of the chairs and lifting him over his shoulder. He heads up the stairs, beckoning to you to follow.

"You're a Gotham native, aren't you?" Batman calls back. As he crests the stairs, a stray streetlight glare illuminates the immaculate white suit and eponymous face covering of Black Mask draped over his shoulder.

"If you wanted to gather a group of murderous ninjas into one place for an ambush," he asks conversationally, "Where would you choose?"

[Llyarden]

Ciaran paused to grab a scabbard from one of the ninjas who hadn't turned into a pile of dust before following. Not that the sword was likely to cut him, but he was carrying Shiva over his other shoulder and it would be rather embarrassing if he accidentally stabbed her, plus if he was holding her with one hand and the sword with the other he couldn't really get at his grapple gun.

Catching up, he took a moment to consider Batman's question. "I guess you'd want somewhere enclosed, so they wouldn't be able to get away easily, but with good visibility, not many places to hide, that kind of thing. And somewhere where they wouldn't be able to take hostages. Off-hand, at this time of night, I guess the Iceberg Lounge? Or Toxic Acres, or the Ace Chemical Processing Plant."

[herodofcows]

The Iceberg Lounge

You'll never find a classier hive of scum and villainy.

The two-story building is a vision in white and glassy surfaces. The dance floor has a penguin exhibit beneath it, and the walls are ringed by snowy dioramas. The tables are arranged along the edges in semi-secluded booths to allow for maximum schmoozing. Above, a semi-circular catwalk allows paying customers a sense of privacy and quiet egomania as they look down at the churning masses below. You see a door on the first level and one on the second, both placed unobtrusively.

The Lounge is empty now, with bar inventory still laying out and tablecloths still missing from half of the tables. At 8:30, the employees had still been setting up for a slow Thursday night. You and Batman bursting through the front door had persuaded them to take an early night.

The two of you had then disabled the security. It wasn't hard: there were only about a dozen of them. You hadn't even had to knock over any furniture!

A quick investigation of the doors had yielded a back room connected to a service entrance on the first floor, and the manager's office on the second. This club appears to have been designed to have as little going on behind the scenes beyond the direct control of the owner as possible.

"This is your show," Batman says, picking up Shiva and Black Mask from where he'd left them lying by the door. He'd stopped to inject them both with something on the way over, and they've been completely out ever since. Batman's probably a trained anesthesiologist, right? "Where would you want to position the prisoners, and where are you going to position us? In a situation like this, we have a lot of control over the space. What are you going to do with it?"

Apparently this is still training!

[Llyarden]

Now I see why people say 'never meet your heroes,' Ciaran thought to himself.

"So...what, you're putting people in danger - again - just to see what I can do?" he asked out loud, with more than a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "You're the one that's bringing the ninjas here; you know what they think they're walking into, whether they're expecting a trap - or you specifically - and what they're actually trying to do here. I don't. This is not my show." He was starting to wonder whether or not Batman had known the Hand were arriving at the restaurant. Perhaps he'd even hired them too.

[herodofcows]

Batman's face doesn't flicker while Ciaran vents his exasperation. When he next speaks, it is in calm tones.

"When we first met, you said something about heroes," he enunciates, voice echoing through the vacant room, "You told me that you'd figured out that we don't spring into the world fully-formed. 'It might have been lost in all the good they've done, but they learned and they made mistakes. But they didn't give up.' Do you remember telling me that?"

His mask retracts, servos sliding back until the cowl has vanished and you just see Parker's face. In the light of the club, you can see the shadows under his eyes and the lines on his face. He's still young, maybe in his early thirties, but he has the eyes of an old man.

"You were right in that, more right than you know. Batman made mistakes. And when he made those mistakes, people got hurt. People who hadn't volunteered to risk their lives, or people who were relying on him to make sure they didn't have to volunteer. Batman was supposed to be the kind of hero you saw when you were a kid: incorruptible. Infallible, even. But he wasn't. He made mistakes, and those mistakes hurt a lot of people . . . and they eventually caught up to him. And when they finally caught up to him . . . he couldn't be Batman anymore.

"That's how I became Batman. I had to learn from his mistakes, and I had to make a few of my own. And don't think for a second that they don't weigh on me every day, and that I wouldn't take them back if I could. There's a reason we have schools: people need to learn away from the action so that they can fail without horrible consequences. But we don't always have that luxury: there was no school for being Batman. Not when he started out, and not when I took the mantle. But it doesn't have to be that way for you."

The cowl deploys over his head, and Parker is Batman again.

"You're right. This isn't your show. But it will be, one day. And when that day comes, you will have made all your mistakes and learned from them. But you won't have sleepless nights haunted by the ghosts of people you failed to save. You won't torment yourself with visions of crippled civilians and dead sidekicks that you should have kept from harm. You won't be weighed down by guilt, or remorse . . . because when you screw up, I will be there to make sure nobody dies because of it. I won't say that any of this will be easy, but as long as you're training with me I PROMISE you that there will be no dead on your conscience.

"So, I'll say again: We have control over the space. What are you going to do with it?"

[Llyarden]

Ciaran frowned slightly, forgetting that he no longer had a hood to hide his expression. Batman had rather missed the point there. "Yeah, until you make a mistake." He shook his head. This was a discussion for another time, since the ninjas were likely already on their way. "Whatever. Still doesn't help me know what the Hand are gonna expect when they get here, but if we put Black Mask and Shiva in the security room, it should be pretty hard for anyone to get at them except along the catwalk. Speaking of which, from up there we should have a pretty good view of anyone coming in from either door. Assuming they don't just bust down the wall or something."

Even as he spoke, though, one question came to mind which he decided not to ask - not yet, anyway. Just how many people have you lost?

[herodofcows]

Batman seems not to hear your suggestion that he might make a mistake here.

"Security room it is, then. With the two of us guarding it from the catwalk. Let's play it out."

With Shiva and Black Mask tied up and further sedated in the security room, the two of you settle in to wait. Batman looks off silently into the middle distance. Perhaps he is calculating, or pondering deeper strategy. Or perhaps he simply doesn't want to continue the conversation from earlier.

There isn't much time to brood resentfully, though. Within a few minutes, the front and rear doors burst open in tandem. Hand ninjas stream inside, taking positions along the lower floor. You see some toss grappling hooks upwards and begin to tense up as they begin to climb up to different positions along the catwalk. You'll still be in between them and the security room, but soon they'll see you . . .

And then you hear a vaguely familiar voice begin to chant shrilly.

"Peter Parker pissed off packs of prickly pluggers
A pack of prickly pluggers Peter Parker pissed!
If Peter Parker pissed a pack of prickly pluggers . . ."

Looking down below, you see Bruce Wayne in a long coat and full suit stride into the Iceberg Lounge. At his side, you see a Hand Ninja in pure white on his arm. Wayne seems to be talking to her as he leads her into the room past hordes of guarded ninjas.

". . . how many prickly pluggers did Peter Parker piss?" Wayne cackles evilly at the white ninja, and then looks up into the darkness of the rafters.

"Gotta say, Pete . . . not your best work today! Not a good idea crossing me! I get cross when you cross me, and next thing you know I'm crossing you by crossing off someone else hahahaHAHA!"

Wayne leaves the white ninja and fake-tapdances across the dance floor below. Beside you, you see Batman has scarcely seemed to react to the use of his real name.

"So what's the play, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater? Got Shiva, but YOU CAN'T KEEP HER! HA-HAAAA!"

"Don't get edgy. Everything's still going according to plan," Batman whispers into your earpiece as Wayne continues to cackle and the ninjas continue to climb, "Wayne is an issue, but not one we can't deal with. Either we both defend the catwalk or one of us takes the fight to Wayne downstairs. Still your show."

Still your show. Joy.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran blinked for a moment or two, looking down from his position on the catwalk at Wayne. He sounded different to the last time Ciaran had seen him. Then he'd just seemed like a normal billionaire (if there was such a thing.)

"Just...what?"

After a moment or two, he recovered his senses a little. "You know what Wayne is capable of; I don't. Be my guest. I'll stay up here." He still had no real idea whether the Hand wanted to kidnap Black Mask or just flat-out kill him. Either way, he had to hope that he'd given Shiva enough of a beating that she wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

He crouched slightly in front of the entrance to the security room, waiting for the ninjas to make their approach.

For some reason I had it in my head that I'd already posted, even though I clearly hadn't. My apologies.

Standard: Defend.

[herodofcows]

Batman vanishes into the rafters, and the ninjas notice your presence almost immediately after.

Shhhing!

You're soon enveloped by a horde of sword-swinging Hand soldiers, but you don't simply take the blows. Rather, you find yourself flowing in between them, accurately predicting their direction and destination. Without laying a hand on a single ninja, you manage to stem the tide and stop the Hand from reaching their goals.

Below, you hear Wayne's shrieking laughter again.

"Is that you up there, Petey? Why don't you-"

WHUD.

"OOF!"

You hear Wayne grunt as someone ("someone") hits him HARD.

"Leave while you can, Bruce," you hear Batman rumble as two enterprising ninjas attempt to decapitate you.

"Master!" screams a voice, and the world goes faint for a moment.

"I'm FINE, my dear!" Wayne trills below. A sudden rush of blows begins, with a rhythm like that of a choreographed dance routine . . . or of two experienced fighters who know each other's moves perfectly.

You know that voice.

"Be a doll and go deal with the Bat's little sidekick, won't you?"

"But, master, I SWORE-"

You've known this voice for years.

"Go! I'll save you a slice! Promise! Hahahahaaaa!"

"Upstairs! Incoming!"

The crowd of ninjas parts as the white ninja grapnels up to the floor. She glares at you for a moment, and then her fists ignite with the same kind of crimson fire that Lady Shiva had managed earlier. She swings at you, but you're operating completely on reflex now and manage to sidestep the blow.

"It's not Robin, master!" Cait Stern calls down, eyes flashing at you through the white mask, "This one's new!"

Ciaran gets a Hero Point

[Llyarden]

She hadn't hit him or even touched him, but Ciaran nonetheless staggered back.

How could she do this?

It was all to get Batman, that much was clear from what little he'd heard of her argument with Wayne. He knew that she thought Batman was responsible for the death of their father. But this?

Had it been anyone else, he would have had no hesitation in taking down the white-robed ninja. He knew from experience how dangerous that crimson fire was.

But she was his little sister.

After a moment's pause, he flicked off his voice modulator, though he didn't let up from the defensive stance that had served him well thus far. It was a massive risk, letting her - and perhaps more relevantly, the Hand - know who he was. But if there was even the slightest chance that realising who he was would make her stop, he had to take it. He didn't want to have to fight her.

"Cait, what..? What are you doing?"

Well that happened.

Standard: Defend. I don't think Ciaran would be willing to attack his little sister, not quite yet at least. (Just watch him get one-shotted in the next round. :smalltongue:)

[herodofcows]

Cait starts as she hears your voice, propelling herself away from you. The nearby Hand forces all look at her askance as she recovers herself.

"Ci- . . . You?" she half-growls half-shrieks over the sounds of Wayne and Batman's battle.

She glances at the assembled ninjas and notices their glances.

"Help the master!" she barks out abruptly, gesturing dowards, "This one is MINE!"

After a moment of hesitation, the various ninjas all turn around and spring downward. The pace of the blows below gets quicker, and you hear cries of pain begin to ring out.

"ExCUSE me!" Wayne roars shrilly, "I don't beLIEVE I asked for HELP!"

As soon as the ninjas have all dropped, Cait relaxes her pose. She pulls off her mask and you can see the shocked expression on her face.

"What are you DOING here? HOW are you . . . since when were you working with the Bat?" she hisses furiously, "You can't be here right now!"

[Llyarden]

"I can't be here right now? I could say the same thing to you!" Ciaran shot back. "I know you blame Batman for what happened to Dad, but...this? You think Dad would've wanted this? Hell, you don't even know that that Batman -" he gestured down to where the fight was going on "- is the one we saw when we were kids!"

He took a moment to breathe. Cait had unintentionally put him in an awkward situation. He had no idea what was going on down there; for all he knew Peter could need help. But if he went to help, Cait would have a clear shot to Shiva and Black Mask.

"Please, Cait," he said, more quietly. "Please, just...stop this."

I don't want to have to hurt you.

Not that I expect much of a result, but Persuasion: [roll0].

[herodofcows]

Cait looks at you like she can't believe what she's hearing.

"At least I'm not running around with the guy that let him die!" she nearly shrieks, her voice still covered up by the battle below, "Like, how does that work in your head? Do you think . . . GRAH!"

She kicks one of the nearby cocktail tables over in rage. After a moment, she breathes in deeply and puts on her mask.

"I don't understand you. You're my brother, and I don't wanna fight you. But I can't let this go just cuz you've got a crush on the Bat.

"So I guess I have to do this."

Quick as a wink, she's sprung over the ledge and dropped down into the main area of the club. Moving over to the ledge to watch, you see her fists light up with crimson fire as she moves into the fray. The other ninjas back off as she steps into the thick of the main fight.

As your ears had suggested to you, Bruce Wayne and Batman are superbly matched. For a billionaire trust fund child, Wayne seems to have kept himself in excellent fighting trim. Despite not having the kind of hardware that Batman has on him, the fight has been a stalemate of dodges and absorbed punches . . .

Until Cait steps in.

"Back upstairs!" she roars.

"What the HELL is this flip-floppery?" Wayne yells as Batman blocks his every blow, "There'd better be a good reason for this, my dear!"

She's good, you can see that immediately. While you've learned to rely on your Venom-given gifts to see you through a fight, Cait is dodging and spinning and striking with an economy of movement that distantly recalls Nightwing. Crimson fire flashes on and off as she lands opportunistic strikes against Batman, or speeds out of the way of oncoming punches. She's been trained, and trained well. How??

On her own, she wouldn't be a match for Parker. But for someone already fighting their match, your sister represents a tipping point. Batman is run ragged, trying to defend against two skilled foes. You don't know how long he can last . . .

. . . not that you don't have your own problems.

A flood of ninjas is now heading your way, grapneling up or taking the stairs. You're all that stands between them and the two unconscious figures in the back room. Can you defeat them? Probably. Can you defeat them before Batman is worn down? Much less certain . . .

[Llyarden]

"I don't want to fight you either, Cait," Ciaran said quietly as she dropped back down. These guys, though...

The sword had worked last time, so Ciaran drew it again, swinging haphazardly at the approaching ninjas. He was much less cautious this time, much less concerned about the fact that he was attacking with a sword. He wasn't actively trying to kill the Hand ninjas, but...they'd got his sister. He had no idea just what had happened to her, but the fact that she was with them now removed any last vestiges of concern for their well-being.

Besides, half of them had turned into dust the last time he'd hit them anyway.

Well this worked last time, so let's try it again.

Extra Effort: Power Stunt from Strength damage: Damage 8, Accurate 6.
Standard: Attack the ninjas, all-out attacking for 5, routining for 27 and DC23 Toughness on a hit. Takedown 2 to continue until stopped.
Move-by Action: Get back to the door to hopefully stop them coming in.

Status: -5 to active defences, and...maybe fatigued next round? Or exhausted? I dunno if I recovered from my previous fatigue.

[herodofcows]

The tide of ninjas hits you like a furious blow, and you have to fight to keep your head afloat. And it is here that you discover that even your Venom-powered resiliency has its limits.

Oh, you eat the first several sword strikes, no problem. You give as good as you get too: a series of amateurish swings backed by your not-inconsiderable strength sends them shrieking to the ground or dissolving into dust. But before you can catch your breath, there's another blade coming at your throat while two sais try to puncture your stomach. You dust the ninjas responsible, and even manage to pivot backwards in time to strike at the one that had tried to sneak past you, but this leaves you open to three more and it goes on and on and on . . .

By the time you're finished, you've held the line. Of the forty or so ninjas that had mobbed you, half are either dusted or floored. Your back is to the door, and the rest of the Hand warriors have retreated a ways.

They're not scared, you can see that easily enough. It's in their eyes: that narrow look, that special gleam that predators have when they smell wounded prey. And you are wounded: after repeated slices, even your flesh will cut. You're exhausted, and you're actually bleeding . . . they actually hurt you!

Before the Hand warriors charge for a second wave of attacks, you get a glimpse of Batman frantically blocking against Wayne's renewed onslaught as he tries to maneuver away from Cait. He looks about as tired as you feel: his punches are coming slower and he's taking more hits than he was at the start of the fight. As you watch, he spares a second to throw a Batarang at Cait . . .

. . . and a haymaker from Wayne knocks him down on one knee.

"Ha! Poor Petey playing paragon? Pathetic!" Wayne giggles as Cait springs at Parker with fists blazing.

"ARGH!"

You don't hear the hit, but you do hear Batman scream in pain over Wayne's laughter. He staggers to his feet and enters a defensive stance as he faces off against Cait and Wayne. It's a valiant effort, but you can see he doesn't have much of a straight fight left in him.

"This is for my father, you bastard . . ." you hear Cait call, fists flickering as she readies another onslaught . . .

[Llyarden]

The ninjas might have been able to make him bleed, but that didn't equate to making him hurt. Ciaran took a moment to consider his injuries, dismissed them as superficial, and charged back at the remaining Hand fighters.

And if the end of his manic flurries had left him poised to jump down between Peter, Wayne and Cait if it was needed, then that was clearly just coincidence. He still thought Batman could handle things. It was clearly all some elaborate trick. He was, after all, Batman.

But Ciaran couldn't shut up the little bit of his mind that was commenting Serves you right for all that arrogance.

Move: Heal with Adrenaline Surge. Even at -2 from Exhausted that still heals Ciaran's bruise.
Standard: Attack the remaining ninjas, all-out attacking for 5 again and routining for 25 this time. If I have to charge to get into Close range of the first one, I'll do that, so 23 instead. If the Hand all-out attacked last round (I'm still a little confused on that point), Power Attack for 2 as well. As before, DC23 (or 25 if Power Attacking) Toughness vs damage and Takedown II.

As a Reaction for the enemy round, Ciaran will Interpose for Peter against Cait's attack. (Which is why I haven't un-exhausted myself; I may need the hero point.)

Status: Exhausted, -5 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 1 Bruise.

[herodofcows]

Your rush takes you past most of the Hand ninjas. Two turn to dust amid your sprinting sword slashes, but a well-timed parry from one of the ninjas throws your rhythm out of whack. They back away from your strikes as you make it over to the balcony. Your legs tense as you prepare to leap down and put yourself in the way of a fatal blow . . .

. . . but that blow never comes.

With speed that you wouldn't have expected from someone so heavily battered, Batman spins out of the way of Cait's final fiery slash.

"Why, Peter!" Wayne howls with glee as he steps up with another hammer blow, "How RUDE of you t- GUH!"

You don't quite see what happens next. Batman dodges Wayne's blow, his cape billows dramatically . . . and then next thing you know Wayne is staggering away and Batman has disappeared.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle . . ." he growls, and then looks up and sees you and the ninjas that surround you.

"GO, you idiots!" he howls, pointing at the door that you've now moved away from, "GET WHAT WE CAME HERE FOR!"

The ninjas start and shoot for the door. One of them bursts it open and the remaining 7 rush in. You see one them raise their sword over Black Mask . . .

Cait starts as Batman pulls his disappearing act, and then looks around desperately.

"No . . . GET BACK HERE!" she shrieks, her whole body positively blazing with crimson inferno now.

"Stop the ninjas," Batman growls over your earpiece, "This is where I get to have my fun."

[Llyarden]

Next time I'm not gonna worry about you, Ciaran thought to himself irritably, springing back through the horde of ninjas to slash at the one closest to Black Mask with his own blade, spinning back to defend the entrance from any more encroaching Hand fighters.

On the one hand, he was glad that Batman, in true Batman style, had turned out to not need his help. But at the same time...it was a bit annoying. Not least because he suspected Batman's 'fun' wouldn't be too pleasant for Cait.

"I don't care about Wayne," he said quietly into his commlink, "but please don't hurt Ca - the girl," he corrected himself, realising that Batman wasn't too likely to know who Cait was.

Unless he does.

Move: Get back into Close range of the ninja by Black Mask.
Standard: Second verse, same as the first. Or...third, at this point. All-out attack for 5, Routine for 25 to hit and DC23 Toughness vs damage, with Takedown II.
Move-by Action: Get back in the way of the door.

Status: Exhausted, -5 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 1 Bruise.

[herodofcows]

The Hand ninja brings his blade down as hard as he can . . . into your chest, which deflects it with a minor ringing sound. The other ninjas (including the one that had picked up Lady Shiva's supine form) all stare at you for the briefest of seconds.

And then you're upon them. Super-strong sword swings in a crowded room against multiple opponents? It's a blender. They never stood a chance.

Shiva falls back to the floor along with the ninja who'd been holding her before coming down with a bad case of the ouchies. Black Mask is still slumped in his chair, breathing lightly and utterly dead to the world (metaphorically, though!).

A round of condescending applause causes you to turn around. You find Wayne standing smartly behind you, an evil smirk playing along his lips.

"You must be the NEW one," he leers, giggles underscoring his every word, "Did they tell you what happens to little boys that go out running after Bats at this time of night?"

Kssh kssh kssh kssh kssh

One by one, the lightbulbs in the room explode, plunging the room into darkness just as Wayne lunges at you.

"HEEEEEHAHAHAHAAAA!"

As you kick Shiva's vacant chair at him and sidestep his blow, you hear Cait roar out some kind of battle cry. Something expensive-sounding shatters.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" she howls, crimson aura flickering in the near-blackness.

"Don't hurt the . . . well, okay," Peter says bemusedly into your earpiece as Wayne stumbles past you as he trips over the chair, "I won't hurt her."

Wayne recovers and spins back around, a fiendish chuckle rattling around his throat as he springs back into a fighting stance.

"Fair warning, though: she might scream a little at this next part."

[Llyarden]

Well, that's one less thing to worry about. Hopefully.

Flicking his voice modulator back on, Ciaran spoke to Wayne as the madman recovered himself. "I feel like I'm the odd one out here. You two seem to know each other. Care to explain?"

He wasn't just curious, though, taking advantage of the distraction to swipe at Wayne with the sword.

Move: Not even going to try feinting.
Standard: Attack Wayne: [roll0]. DC23 Toughness on a hit.

Status: Exhausted.
Temp'd off conditions: 1 Bruise.

[herodofcows]

"HOOO! Missed me, missed me!"

Wayne twists under your blade, laughing all the while. There's something profoundly odd about his motions; it's as though he has no bones in his body one moment, and then is all muscle and sinew and bone the next.

"Oh, it's a HELL of a tale! Adventure, discovery, betrayal, a dash of romance . . . but I don't have time to tell it!"

Quicker than blinking, he springs at you, swings around you by the neck, grabs your head . . .

"'cause this'll be over in a SNAP! HOOHOOHOOOOO!"

. . . and twists, snapping your neck!

Or, rather, cracking your neck. Popping it, really.

Krck!

On the one hand, it hurts. On the other, you feel inexplicably realigned!

Wayne looks down on you in puzzlement, and then launches off of you. The fiendish grin remains on his face, but his eyes are suddenly uncertain.

"Waiiiiit a moment . . . I've HEARD of you . . ."

"You can't hide from vengeAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!"

Over Wayne's shoulder, you see a streak of white get pulled suddenly to the ceiling.

And then, behind Wayne, a deeper shadow seems to take form . . .

[Llyarden]

Cait didn't seem to have noticed that he'd survived something that would've killed a normal person. Ciaran wasn't sure whether to be glad about that or not. Though the fact that she'd made no effort to protect him...he wasn't quite sure what to feel about that at all.

And sure enough, it looked like Batman wasn't going to hurt her, which he definitely was glad about.

"Have you, now?" Ciaran asked, mostly trying to keep Wayne's attention on him. "Well, do you have time to explain this 'incredible' tale of yours now?" He darted forwards and slashed at Wayne again.

Move: Heal with Adrenaline Surge.
Standard: Attack Wayne, all-out attacking for 2: [roll0], DC23 Toughness on a hit.

Status: Exhausted, -2 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 2 Bruises.

[herodofcows]

Wayne giggles wheezily as he sidesteps your swing and reaches into his coat. He draws on a purple glove with great ceremony, and then brings out a long ugly-looking knife with the other.

"Well . . . hehehehe . . . let's just say that Petey's dressed up in my old wardrobe! I was like him, of course: a do-gooder, a weak-chinned crusader . . . but then I had myself a . . ."

He cuts at your eyes with the knife, and as you're bringing your hands up to block he presses his gloved hand on your sternum.

". . . SHOCK! HAHAHAHAAA!"

Thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of volts of electricity course from the gauntlet to your body. The damage is still negligible, but you're twitching and spasming and you can't get control and all you can see is Wayne leering sadistically into your eyes and laughing, laughing . . .

WHAM WHAM WHAM

. . . and then, abruptly, Wayne's gone and you're free.

Or, rather, he's not gone. But he's stumbled to the sides and his eyes are unfocused and his smile seems a little loose right now.

Batman stands over you like an angel of Death (or, at the very least, an angel of Serious Bodily Injury). He widens his stance, as though covering for you as you get yourself together.

"Is that what you call letting a good man die, Bruce?" he growls, "Was Captain Stacy dying just 'a shock'?"

Wayne begins giggling uncontrollably now.

"Not at all, Pete! Just a moment of clarity! A pure grove of sanity amidst the madness! Part of the circle of death! A deal-maker, if you will! HAHAHAHAHA!"

[Llyarden]

With Wayne's departure, Ciaran's innate resilience kicked in, bringing his twitching body back under control, the only sign of his electrocution being some scorch marks on his - already ruined - clothes and slightly dilated pupils, before he leapt past Batman to lash out at Wayne once again.

So Wayne had been the old Batman. Ciaran had been closer to the truth with his wild shouts to Cait than he'd even realised.

And it was sheer coincidence and totally not because I could see where that was going. :smalltongue:

I'll use that Hero Point I've had lying around to negate being Stunned.
Move: Heal with Adrenaline Surge.
Standard: Attack Wayne once again, all-out attacking for the full 5 this time: [roll0]. DC23 Toughness vs damage on hit, and I'll Team Attack with Peter if possible. Dice, please stop hating me. Ta.

Status: Exhausted, -5 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 3 Bruises

[herodofcows]

Wayne and Batman charge each other as you rise, and you swing into your attack. You quickly fall into a similar pattern to the one that Cait and Wayne had used to double-team Peter: while he keeps Wayne anchored by sending out rapid blow after rapid blow, you manage to get a few good licks in. Oh, it's nothing game-changing: even pressed by Batman, Wayne manages to evade the worst of your strikes. But even your glancing blows have all the effect of a solid punch from a normal man, and you can tell that Wayne is slowing down . . .

"And then . . . it CAME to me! All that time wasted with remorse, and guilt, and all the other stomach-churning weaknesses I'd allowed myself up until that point . . . what was the POINT of it all? Why bother with sorrows in the face of tomorrows?"

"See this?" Batman growls at you, circling slightly, "THIS is what true cowardice looks like. Mr. Wayne here couldn't handle feeling guilt, so he erased the parts of himself that made him human. Made a deal with-"

Batman cuts himself off as a white-robed figure vaults over the edge of the balcony. Cait's fists flicker with crimson fire again as she glares at Batman.

"You thought you could just leave me tied up?" she hisses furiously.

Batman sighs and adjusts his stance.

"THIS is why we usually knock them out," he says to you. It's possible to detect a hint of sarcasm in there, "Rule number one of 21st century crimefighting, son: female assassins deserve the same consideration and professionalism as their male counterparts. I know the media makes it seem like every female professional killer has a seductive and vulnerable side, but really that displays a lot of sexist thinking when you-"

"EW!"

"HAHAHAHA! Why Petey, you're not just a Caped Crusader! You're a veritable Social Justice Warrior!"

[Llyarden]

"Really not the time for a lecture," Ciaran muttered irritably. Why couldn't Cait have just stayed tied up on the ceiling? He wasn't going to tell Peter not to hurt her again, though he had no intention of doing so himself. He just had to hope that Peter would see Wayne as the bigger threat. "I'll explain later."

He jumped forwards at Wayne again in something of an inversion of their previous tactic, bringing his blade around in a wilder-than-usual arc. It wasn't likely to even come close to striking Wayne, but it would hopefully wrong-foot him enough for Batman to get a good blow in.

Move: Nah.
Standard: Aid Peter's next attack on Wayne, all-out attacking for 2: [roll0] Bet that would've actually hit. +5 to Peter's next attack against Wayne.

Status: Exhausted, -2 to active defences.
Temp'd off conditions: 3 Bruises.

[herodofcows]

Your sword travels in a beautiful overhand arc that sends Wayne ducking towards Batman. The Caped Crusader nearly bungles the cherry setup you gave him, but once he twists his kick windup into an uppercut, well . . .

WHAM

. . . down goes Wayne, giggling weakly.

"Heh . . . always pointless . . ." he sniggers before passing out.

"Master!"

You see Cait go leaping at Batman, crimson flame burning on her fists even as rage burns in her voice. Parker, still slightly wrong-footed from his nearly botched attack on Wayne, isn't going to dodge it in time.

"Crap-"

FSSSSH

"Ciaran!"

Cait gapes as you step in front of Batman and take the blow. Her flame sputters and dies against your Venom-hardened flesh.

"How are you . . . how are you still standing?" she asks, horrified,

She stumbles back, eyes wide.

"What did he do to you??" she half-screams.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran raised his hands a little defensively, staying between Batman and Cait - though which of them he was protecting from the other he wasn't sure about. "Hey, it's okay," he said quickly, to forestall any further attacks from either party. "Peter didn't do this." He used Batman's name deliberately, though it was a rather false sign of trust considering that Wayne had been crowing his name to the ceiling the entire time. "Hell, he saved me from anything worse happening."

He tugged down the remains of his hood. Considering that Peter and Cait both knew who he was already and they were the only ones left conscious there wasn't much point in trying to hide his identity. "Now your turn, Cait. What did he -" he gestured to the prone form of Wayne behind him "- do to you?"

[herodofcows]

Cait looks from you to the recumbent form of Wayne . . . and then bursts into tears.

"I . . . I j-j-just . . ." she gulps hysterically, collapsing into your arms, "I was missing dad and, and, and he said he could hellllp . . ."

You take her back home that night. Peter leaves you with a clasp on the shoulder and a promise to be there if you need anything.

"You really do need a codename, though," he says, a gleam in his eye, "And if you'll take it, I think I have one for you . . ."

You don't need to ask. At this point, it's OBVIOUS that there's soon going to be a new Robin in town.

Once home, you have a heart-to-heart with your sister the likes of which you've not had in years. As midnight turns to morning, you talk through her issues; every piece of misplaced anger and grief and guilt is laid bare as the two of you talk through that horrible day at the mall. It takes time, but eventually she even manages a smile.

"Thank you . . ." she whispers, clasping your hand, "You've saved-"

CRUNCH

You abruptly awaken from your stupor to find yourself faceplanted into the hood of the car. You're fine, but the car has seen better days. Heck, there's not even a car alarm sounding; that would require sufficient remaining car to be alarmed.

"It was a suicide spell. Meant for me."

Turning over, you see Batman standing outside of the Iceberg Lounge. You're outside the Iceberg Lounge. Why are you outside the Iceberg Lounge?

"You came running out here, grapneled up to the top of the building," Batman continues, gesturing up at the 3-story building that houses the Iceberg Lounge, "and then jumped off head-first. Would have killed or severely injured a baseline human. Lucky you, you're not baseline."

He comes over and leans against the destroyed car, breathing heavily from his recent exertions.

"That was brave of you, to take that hit for me," he continues, coming over to lean on the destroyed car, "But for the immediate future, stay away from the magic stuff. I've trained to deal with it, you haven't. I can teach you, but we're not there yet."

He sighs and casts an eye towards the door of the Iceberg Lounge.

"Give it a minute and then we'll go in. I've got the woman restrained with Shiva and Black Mask. We can drop them all off with Jim Gordon before we call it a night. For now, take five."

[Llyarden]

Ciaran shook his head slightly, trying to get the visions still flickering in front of his eyelids to go away. Despite that, he still found himself wondering absently what that spell would have shown Peter. "Magic, too? Great." What the hell are you wrapped up in, Cait?

After a few moments, he sighed. "She's my sister," he explained. "That's...why I didn't want you to hurt her. You, er...you remember how I said she saw you - or Batman, anyway, whichever of you it was - as a failure? Apparently she decided to get 'justice' -" he sketched quote marks with one hand, brushing bits of car off his clothes with the other "- on her own. Or...well, with Wayne, apparently."

[herodofcows]

Peter laughs sharply and shortly, a humorless bark containing only the most bitter traces of levity.

"Makes sense . . ." he grimaces, stretching his shoulder out, "Bruce and his . . . associates . . . are very good at finding vulnerable angry people to exploit."

He sighs and then looks up at the sky, half-reclining now on the hood of the car.

"The good news is, she won't be in any legal trouble," he says, halfway as though he's speaking to himself, "At her level of skill, I'd have said she's been trained by the Hand since birth, which isn't likely if she's your sister. That means she's been augmented magically, and if Wayne's poured that much into her then she's valuable to him. He'll arrange things so that she'll be set free."

Abruptly, he smashes his fist into the wrecked car. His voice remains tired, but his fists remain clenched.

"That's how it always is with Wayne," he says tonelessly, "He does something. I track him down or draw him out. We fight. Eventually I win. And he always. Walks. Free. Crooked lawyers, bought politicians, destroyed evidence, literal devils from Hell . . . he's used them all, singly or in groups. No matter how many bases you try to cover, there are always loopholes for him to exploit. This time won't be different.

"And if you try to make it different . . . well, the deaths will be on your conscience. And I won't be able to stop that, you understand? I can't protect you from those screw-ups."

He turns to you, face blank of any kind of expression after those sudden emphatics.

"So, your call; do we even bother taking your sister into the police? Or do you want to take her home?"

This is significantly different from what Peter had promised you earlier. Ridiculously so. In fact, it's precisely the opposite of what he said earlier.

Peter's not being honest right now . . . he's trying to communicate something to you subtly.

Peter isn't lying, but he's putting on a show for someone watching or listening. He's not despairing nearly as much as he sounds like he is . . . and he wants you to know that.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran gave a look to Peter that went from puzzled to...well, no less puzzled. When he responded, it was as if Peter's outburst hadn't happened at all, in a similar hollow tone. "I'll take her. Figure it's time the two of us...ah...caught up." If Peter was right then she'd vanish - or be vanished - in her own time. The former he didn't particularly mind, but the latter option concerned him a little.

Even as he spoke, though, a thought crossed his mind and steadfastly refused to leave. You could make it different, easily. You just aren't going to. And subtlety or no, Ciaran got the feeling that at least something of what Peter was saying really was what he felt.

After all, the act wouldn't be believeable otherwise.

[herodofcows]

Peter stares at you for a moment, and then gives you a tiny nod and the smallest of smiles.

"Fine," he says gloomily, getting up and proceeding to the door of the Iceberg Lounge, "Come on, I think they're-"

The door swings open before he gets there. Behind it, there's a knife-thin man wearing the outfit of a Catholic priest, but something about him absolutely assures you that this is not a holy man. His eyes seem to gleam unnaturally, and his smile reveals teeth that shimmer in the Gotham streetlights. Everything about him suggests a kind of sharpness, like a stiletto slipped through an unsuspecting ribcage.

"Good evening, Mr. Parker!" he exclaims with a voice like a colony of snakes, "We've just about finished in here! Come, come!"

As the man stands aside with great ceremony, you can see that the Iceberg Lounge has been set up and repaired perfectly, as though completely prepared to open in 15 minutes. There is no evidence of the unconscious or dusted Hand ninjas, or that any kind of struggle took place. The only other figure visible is a large shirtless man with a panoply of tattoos covering his torso (most of a sexual or violent nature). He is behind the bar, apparently mixing two martinis.

"Master Bruce is currently reposing at Wayne Manor," the first man continues, walking over to the bar and folding himself up into a seated position on one of the stools, "But your other, aha, victims are locked away in the management's office upstairs, just where you left them. I should retrieve them, if I were you! Send them to the constabulary and pat yourself on the back for a job well done. I'm quite sure THIS time you've saved Gotham's soul!"

The tattooed man barks out a laugh like a tank overrunning a pile of skulls. The first man turns to look at you now.

"Ah, but where are my manners? I see you've a new sidekick! He looks more durable than the last two, certainly. I congratulate you, Mr. Parker, oh yes indeed! I'm quite sure this one will not meet the same grisly end as his predecessors! Just my little joke, lad, not to worry. You're in good hands with Mr. Parker, oh my yes. Good hands."

Behind the bar, the tattooed man finishes mixing the drinks and pours them out with great ceremony. The ice-cold liquid steams as it hits the glass, and for a moment you're sure you hear the sound of faint screaming. The first man daintily takes one of the glasses and smiles (if possible) even wider.

"Why not come have a drink with us, lad? Mr. Parker can assuredly handle the wretchedness of moving a few limp bodies. Why not tell us a little bit about yourself? After all, we shall be seeing you quite often, I think! ParTICularly if you continue to mix yourself up in the affairs of Master Wayne! Come now, tell Golgotha what you wish! For all of his damnation, he makes a DIVINE martini!"

[Llyarden]

A day or so ago, Ciaran would have been thrilled to be called Batman's sidekick. But now...the faux priest's words conflated with the visions that were still flickering in his eyes in a way that left him more frustrated than proud. That was something he would need to figure out later.

But for now, there was a somewhat more obvious question. He glanced first across to Peter and then back to the newcomers. Perhaps this was what Peter had seen, or what he'd been referring to when he said that Wayne always walked away from justice. Certainly the thin man's taunts seemed to reflect that. "Sorry, who the hell are you?"

[herodofcows]

Batman spares you a glance before grapneling upstairs to the upper floor of the club.

The "priest" does not answer for a moment, swirling his drink and taking the daintiest possible sip.

"Who . . . the hell . . . are we?" he asks speculatively, as though contemplating a deep philosophical problem, "Golgotha, who the hell are we?"

"The Hell we are, Arkham," Golgotha replies from behind the bar with a voice like a stormtrooper's tread, "The Hell we most certainly are. He has the right of it."

"He does?" Arkham replies in shocked tones as he nearly (but not actually) spills his drink with exaggerated gestures, "You mean Ciaran Stern has our measure? Ciaran Stern, who suspects we are responsible for Mr. Wayne's consequence-free jaunts? Ciaran Stern, whose fan worship of the Big Bad Bat is now all twisted up with visions he's had from magical meanderings? Ciaran Stern has the right of us???"

"He does, Arkham," Golgotha says in level tones as he reaches behind the bar. Slowly, he withdraws a length of chain and deliberately winds it around one arm. The metal links hiss against one another and seem to twitch and coil like something living, "We are entirely undone by his knowledge of us. Unless . . . Arkham, do you think it would be very hard to find his family and loved ones?"

"Well, now that I come to think of it, I imagine I could manage a little something like that . . ." Arkham replies thoughtfully even as Golgotha presses on with a passionless neutrality to his war-crime voice.

"Do you think you could command them to do horrific things to themselves and each other and to any random passerby that might attract our interest?"

"I'd be a poor shade of myself if I couldn't!"

"Do you think you could wend your way into his mind and command HIM to do horrific things? Think carefully now!"

"Well, I HAVE been known to pull a little prank or two in that direction!"

"And, to round things off, do you think I, personally, might be willing and able to do horrific things to him, his loved ones, and this entire city if it were to strike my fancy?"

"Oh, most assuredly!"

"Excellent!" Golgotha claps his hands and beams at you. Unlike Arkham's smile, this one has no stiletto-sharpness or poisonous pleasantness. Golgotha's smile will beat you to death and eat your corpse before the vultures have a chance, "Then surely Mr. Stern will be of no trouble to us!"

"Quite RIGHT!" Arkham says, standing up from the bar as though his backside were spring-loaded, "No trouble at all, Mr. Stern . . . ?"

This last statement is given with the barest trace of a question, like a laser sight playing across an unsuspecting forehead.

[Llyarden]

Ciaran's first, and most immediate instinct, was to leap at the two...whatever they were...and beat them to a pulp, stupid sound effects and all. Bonus: if they were actually demons or devils or similar being killed would probably only be a minor inconvenience for them so he'd be able to kill them again. (It was just barely possible that Ciaran didn't respond well to threats.)

He didn't, for a couple of reasons.

First, Batman obviously had some sort of plan. Not that Ciaran had the faintest idea what it was.

The second, and more major reason was that...Ciaran wasn't scared of many things. He wasn't scared of getting hurt, or even killed - if he'd been afraid of getting hurt he wouldn't have repeatedly gone out after opponents vastly stronger than him, back before he'd had his powers. But one thing he was legimitately frightened of was being forced to hurt innocent people. The fact that he'd just had his free will temporarily removed by Cait's spell didn't help matters, and given that Arkham could apparently read his mind, it wasn't a far cry to assume he could also control it if he chose to.

"Fine," Ciaran spat through gritted teeth. And get out of my head.

[herodofcows]

Arkham flashes you a smug grin, and glances up towards the second floor of the club (where you can see Batman trudging out with Black Mask and Lady Shiva over both shoulders). As you speak, his grin takes on a predatory aspect beyond its existing sharpness, and he takes a lingering look at the floor above.

"Take care of your sister, Ciaran Stern," he says, with no attempt at hiding the venom in his voice, "Someone could get hurt, playing with one of those Bat-men . . ."

And in a blink, both he and Golgotha are gone.

In silence, Batman brings down both Lady Shiva and Black Mask, both of whom he deposits in a nearby booth. He looks at you for a moment, and then claps his hands together.

"All right, good job. Now I can tell you the plan."

All of the weariness and fatigue and defeat he'd exhibited earlier is gone. Now he's energetic. Manic even. You can tell it's all he can do not to crack an enormous grin and begin tapdancing across the floor of the iceberg lounge.

"Arkham can read minds, but only through your voice. In the future, avoid talking when you're around him and he won't get any thoughts off of you. But it's important to let him read your mind at first, because it makes him feel like he has power over you. He thinks he knows you now, and that means he'll underestimate you. He won't go snooping around after you or your movements because, as far as he's concerned, you're a known quantity.

"See, Arkham thinks he knows everything about me, my allies, and their loved ones. He thinks that he can punish us if we try anything against Wayne, and he thinks he knows me well enough to be sure that I won't try anything. Reading you will have confirmed that; all he sees from us is vulnerability, so he doesn't even bother to check for strength. He's prideful, see. It's a demon thing, pride, and it sets them up for a hell of a fall.

"Wayne has a lot of support from a lot of different corners. Organized crime, corrupt businessmen and politicians, the Hand . . . all of those are bad news. But those two? Arkham and Golgotha? They're the ones the make him untouchable. Wayne's mortgaged so many pieces of his soul to them that they'll keep helping him until he dies, just to collect the whole thing. As long as they're around, we can't bring Wayne down and make it stick. But now, with you? We have a chance.

"Taking down Arkham is easy. As long as we can take him by surprise, he's no problem. But his bodyguard, Golgotha? He's too strong. Even when I've taken him unawares, or with help, he's just too powerful in a standup fight. But you . . . with a little training and the element of surprise, I think you could beat him. You've got the durability. You've got the power. You've got the instincts. You can do this.

"I'm sorry to have kept you in the dark. I had to make sure Arkham couldn't suss out the existence of a plan against them. But if you're on board, and still willing to work with me, and Nightwing, and Robin, and Batwoman . . ."

He pauses for a second to compose himself, and possibly to gauge your reaction before pressing forward.

"Well . . . we'll be able to go to war with Bruce Wayne and win."

[Llyarden]

As Batman explained his plan, Ciaran's angry glare began to fade. Batman might have decided to stay calm and collected (roughly), but Ciaran had no such compunctions about professionalism. He didn't quite tapdance, but he certainly did smile. An almost-wolfish smile that wasn't too far removed from Arkham's smug grin. The prospect of getting his own back on Arkham and Golgotha was cheering enough that he forgot whatever annoyance he might otherwise have had at being manipulated.

He still...wasn't quite sure what to think about working with Batman. He certainly had no intentions of being a sidekick, but since it seemed that there was already a Robin, that seemed less likely to be a problem.

Batman's remark did bring up something Ciaran had been curious about almost since meeting Nightwing and Jason, though. "I'm on board," he replied, still smiling. "Just how many of you guys are there?"

[herodofcows]

At this, Batman does allow himself a grin. He even winks at you.

"Back when Wayne was Batman, he was a bit of a loner," he replies, typing something into his wrist computer, "Me, though? Let's just say I like to get by with a little help from my friends."

He picks up the two villains again and starts heading over to the door.

"You'll meet them all soon enough," he continues, "After all, now that we've got you in our court, it's time to get to planning for the final stage. Got a lot of moving pieces to coordinate, after all. Maybe we'll do a dinner, get you properly introduced. You like pizza? There's supposed to be this great place in Metropolis. Or maybe we'll hit New York. Green Arrow always has a good spread, and Huntress can get us tickets to Streetcar if you like that kind of thing."

He turns to you and nods upstairs as he prods open the door with his foot. Outside, you can see the Batwing hovering silently just over the street.

"For now, though, go grab your sister. I'll drop you two off wherever you like," he says. Under the mask, you can see his face is twisted into a sympathetic grimace, "I imagine you guys have some talking to do . . ."


Ciaran gets a Hero Point.