2177/No One Expects the Dark Knight Inquisition

No One Expects the Dark Knight Inquisition
Date of Scene:	26 August 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Batman seeks to suss out Molly Millions' motivations and warns her off making the Bats an enemy. Molly raises both middle fingers into the air as she discovers something even worse about the Blood...
Cast of Characters:	Molly Millions, Batman

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Molly Millions has posed:
It's late, and the sunglasses worn at the Tower were abandoned long ago. To the casual observer 'Sally' might appear like just another office drone heading home... but what New York office drone would feel comfortable taking the subway alone late at night? Further... how many of them would not only feel comfortable in a carriage of their own, but actively seek one out as she has? There's no clutching her back to herself. There's no cell phone pulled out with which to occupy herself. And those silver lenses aren't some kind of eternal affectation but surgically inset into the flesh of her eye sockets.

There's protectiveness in the selection of a corner seat, comfortability in the way she sits with her legs not tucked together under her but with one resting against the seat opposite her. Those slender fingers with their blatantly fake nails left dangling loose with her elbow propped up against her knee. Shaggy hair loosened from the corporate updo into the casual scruff of her more 'street' personality. The outfit, the shoes, might still scream corporate, but that's where the illusion begins and ends right now.

Batman has posed:
In a world of teleporters and invisible operatives, keeping a weather eye on the horizon even locked alone inside a subway car is hardly unwise or even -that- paranoid; at least from a certain point of view. The train whips along at its efficient pace beneath the streets, the fluttering of light and shadow putting on an impressive show each time it passes by a station or well-lit maintenance point, filling the surrounds with flickering illumination and ever-shifting length and angle of the shadows cast by its frame and furnishings.

It's likely during one of these sections of passage that the car gains another silhouette, likely caught at first out of the periphery of Molly's impressive vision on one of those alert return-sweeps of her surrounds. It's the shadow of a large man, unusually tall and muscular, along with a sweeping, scalloped cape.

The shadow of the Batman. Blank cowl lenses are settled evenly on the sole other occupant of the car, his limbs concealed within that draped cape-- an old martial arts and stage magic ploy combined in one. Still, he makes no offensive motion, stands a polite enough span back. Even in a moment of shock, it's likely hard for a veteran of danger like Molly to miss the obvious; he could have simply attacked her, possibly right from the nowhere that seems to have dropped him here, if violence was his intent.

Molly Millions has posed:
Molly has familiarity with teleporters, and excellent visual acuity, and yet... the arrival of the Bat is something that manages to take her by surprise. At first it's just... costume. Black. Impressive entrance. And then... ears. Ears? Oh fuck. The way her breath catches, she recognizes that the figure that's just gotten the drop on her has a pretty good visual match to one of the people she was really particularly hoping never to meet in this lifetime.

The flutter of tension through her lean frame is probably obvious to one looking for it, the twitch of her hand, flare of her nostrils, that split second assessment as to likelihood of immediate impending Death. And truth be told if she wasn't a veteran at having to mask when she's shaking in her size 7's the ripple of reaction might have gone full blown shrieking paranoia. Incrogruously it's like finding a damned taipan in her Cheerios and for a long set of seconds all she can do is stare from behind the relative safety of her lenses and purse her lips to avoid giving in to the desire to wet them suddenly.

Spreading her hands is deliberate, slow, no weapons, well, no visible ones at least. She doesn't even try to pretend to be Sally right now, it's enough to keep tamp on her reactions as she enquires in a low tone,"Batman... I presume?"

Batman has posed:
The Dark Knight, for his part, is poised, inscrutable-- at once seemingly ready to move a hundred directions at once, and utterly still, that cape's jagged ends lightly floating hither and yon with the subway train's rumbling passage. The one thing he doesn't bother to hide is as much calm readiness as Molly has sudden jitters.

The Caped Crusader bypasses the largely rhetorical question entirely; who else could it be? "My ally is certain you're trying to kill him." Batman informs the Razor impassively, probing for information without readily presenting his own opinion; then again, he's opening with chat. That speaks volumes of otherwise unspoken purpose.
"Work you seem to have some skill in." It's matter-of-fact. Not impressed. If anything, it's points strongly against Molly; a reason to dislike her, to work against her even if he -is- right about the lack of malice towards his adopted son. "An odd bedfellow for Tony Stark." Then again, the brilliant inventor's deadly approach to conflict hasn't so much abated as changed angle, recently.

Molly Millions has posed:
It's 'Stark' she doesn't like the mention of, in the pursing of her lips and the way her heel clicks against the opposite chair as she stirs,"Your ally would be mistaken. I don't kill children." there's a flatness in the way she says it, that hint of an accusation and disapproval that he'd deploy them in such a capacity. A hand is passed through her hair before her elbow is rested on her knee again,"I'm not his bedfellow." just to be absolutely clear and specific in that regard, further answer given thought and delay, truth weighed against denial,"And you already know he didn't hire me for my capacity's in that field." it's a guess, really, but the one she opts to go with. Her mouth opens as if she considers saying more, and then closes without adding additional information.

Batman has posed:
It's an old law enforcement trick, asking questions along lines one already knows the answers. Establishes a baseline, and often clearly informs the interrogator their subject's propensity for lying.

This probably makes it a safe assumption to presume that the Bat rarely asks along a direct line he doesn't already have some familiarity with. "Stark doesn't make a habit of hiring assassins." The Dark Knight does admit; as far as he can discern. There's a dubious undertone to the agreement that suggests a 'that I know of' sort of suspicion nonetheless. "Or overpaying interns that aren't bedfellows."

Is that sarcasm? Did the Batman just snark at her, cast a little shade on Iron Man? It's impossible to be sure, at least from any non-existing variance in the dry delivery. "You'd be fine killing him if he seemed a little older behind the mask?" It's a loaded inquest seeking clarification, that's for sure. "Or are you moving more fully into espionage and R&D?" Beat. "Perhaps he just needed a driver?"

Molly Millions has posed:
There's the tilt of Molly's head, sifting through his words and tone, she doesn't have much more than what she's heard of him, and most of that has been along the variety's of 'avoid, avoid, avoid', but there's a vague quirk of her lips at the 'interns that aren't bedfellows'. It's not a slight that gets her aggression up, at least. Her head instead shifts to look at the passing tunnel before shifting back,"I'm certain there's a point to this line of questioning. I'm too old to join your little army, and if you were planning on killing me you would have already done so. So what do you want?"

Batman has posed:
"There's no age limit." The Dark Knight stoically retorts, so evenly serious it's like he's literal, and didn't catch the insinuation. Then: "What's tragic is when they dive into... this... too young." There's a somber note to that that suggests he not only gets it-- he doesn't think it's funny.

As to the Bat's purpose? "Isn't it obvious?" Batman doesn't really object to being asked to get to the point; but clearly rather feels he had been already. "You fought one of my 'soldiers'..." to abscond with the Razor's metaphor, "He reported, with lethal intent. Those intentions are important to me." The Caped Crusader does her the respect of making it very simple, very straightforward, if no less of a minefield.

"You've been fighting in a series of ritualized bloodsports tied to brutal crimes engineered to allow a very dangerous creature into our world." This is offered more as an olive branch of information than something the Bat expects Molly to know or have been a willing part of-- but he's always open to being surprised, still watching her like a hawk through those blank lenses so, so similar yet so alien to her own. "An infestation of hellspawn is important to me." Earth: He Lives There; and prefers it in a non-Hell state.

"You're an unknown operator with established lethal intent and unclear morality-- associated with at least several powerful entities of uncertain motivations." Just how much -has- he seen, and discerned? There's a pause, those eyeslits narrow. "I'm deciding whether I need to work against those interests." It doesn't get much clearer than that.

Molly Millions has posed:
Oh there's that spark again, the accusation that she went after his 'soldier' with lethal intent. It's in the thinness of her lips and the flex of her hand, straightened and then curled inwards in non-vocal reminder to herself,"I'll make sure to submit my resume." there's no mistaking the sarcasm in the drawl with which its delivered, or the dubiousness in the curl of her lip.

"Your soldier has neglected to mention that I told him outright to take the civilians and leave. The only reason we fought at all was because the person paying me ordered me to do so. He also, apparently, left out that I had access to two firearms, and took issue with my employer of that moment with the situation as a whole." the coldness of her tone is no doubt sign that he's touched more than just a nerve,"He's also the one that found me when I was already injured, attacked me over a murder that I didn't commit, and stole a gun from me." at least, from her perspective.

"Ritualized my ass." the leg is dragged off the seat with the clack of her heel on the floor before she elects to stand and deliberately folds her arms in front of her, lips pursing together again,"They're kids. Kids that are being infected by some kind of drug called The Blood. Whatever you might have heard about the fights, they weren't ritualized. And while a few people died in the ring, none of the murders attached to it in the publically released descriptions sync up. And I didn't cause them." just... for the record. Apparently.

"You know... no offense, but if you've got the time to decide to interfere in other people's lives because you don't agree with what you've decided is their morality... you really need an intern. Or five."

Batman has posed:
"My time is priceless." The Dark Knight observes with some measure of frustration, rather than the pride or arrogance one might expect to ring in his tone. "It's why I have an intern at all. Or five." Who knows just how many bats in the belfry?

"You may feel like a small fish in a vast ocean-- but I wouldn't be here if you weren't dangerous, connected, and worth hearing out. You're a professional cybernetically-augmented mercenary, don't give me this wasting-my-time nonsense."

People are so touchy. Also of note: this seems to be one of only two points of contention the Caped Crusader takes issue with. It stands to reason the rest are taken in thoroughly.

"You're wrong, though-- the fights, the crimes. They're all part of a ritual, a series of mystical blood magicks designed to bring forth something much worse. The drug is actual demonic ichor, charged further by other spells." It's unlikely he's elaborating on this rather foreboding thought without purpose beyond showing off, or freaking Molly out.

Molly Millions has posed:
"Yeh, well, mine's private." Molly retorts,"And... y'know what? Nevermind." maybe she just decided she doesn't want to know if his army of 'interns' might be the same kind of more he was suggesting she was to Stark, maybe it's best for her sanity she just doesn't probe that at all, perhaps clear in the shake of her head. The train shifts, and she shifts with it, even with the heels, it's not a big deal to her to make the adjustment to not stumble,"You already know more about me than I'm particularly comfortable with a potential enemy knowing about me, and I don't owe you justification for the things I do or the people I associate with."

There's a pause and an expellation through her nose,"This world gets more fucked up every time I turn around. I confronted the peddler of that shit. He called himself 'Mr. Wizard'... he was shot by a cop and evaporated into thin air. The kids he fucked up with that Blood shit took off and I lost track of them in the sewers. A group of people similarly infected dropped in on the last fight, along with a bunch of cops... SWAT? A battle royale. Probably to try and fuel this... ritual... shit. I tried to at least alert them that they were kids, but I wasn't sticking around to be killed or answer questions about it. I can give you stills, if that's what you're looking for... because I don't hold with what was done to those kids." she opts to offer.

Batman has posed:
"I'm not interested in how you justify any of it." Batman intones simply, evenly, rich baritone still steady and intense. "But if you were smart, you'd want to keep yourself and your associates -off- my list of enemies. And not give me reasons to look closer." That's just good business sense. The world is full of grey morality, and perhaps always will be-- what motivates it, where it's directed... these things matter.

The info dump seems largely familiar to the Bat, perhaps unsurprisingly, and far too familiar given the subject matter. Demonic invasion: Tuesday again already? He's done this job a long time; he's seen Some Shit(tm). "In line with what I've found." Which is bad in and of itself, given the content of her story. "I'll take any recon and evidence you can give me." He readily agrees, even quietly fervent about it.

"If I don't miss my guess--" and let's be honest, the World's Greatest Detective is rarely far off, "Those afflicted by the Blood are being drawn to the summoner and unified. All those who escaped each incident and any others we're unaware of yet." He's not optimistic to assume they got all of the 'drug' off the streets.

"This is going to get worse before it gets better." It's likely the purpose of informing her is obvious, as well, by now: The Batman rather anticipated her disdain for the whole affair. Sometimes, it's good to be right. Something in how Molly said what she said creeps around anew from the back of his mind, "-This- world?" he similarly incants.

Molly Millions has posed:
"I'm supposed to be somehow morally corrupt... but you and your child soldiers seem to think nothing of formulating grudges out of whole cloth and using it as justification to hunt them down..." Molly can't help but sound bemused on that count,"And you're supposed to be one of the... good... guys?" there's a burble of laughter from her that she endeavors to choke out as soon as it escapes her lips.

It's that bemusement that delays any potential response as she mulls over whether or not she wants to give any further assistance under the circumstances. There's slowness in the dip of her head by way of acknowledgment,"They operated as a pack until he died, and then they ran. I don't know where they are, or where they may have moved the operation at this point." the silence regarding 'this world' is deafening for it's lack of answer, and apparently, she's quite content to leave it like that.

Batman has posed:
"I said your intentions were unclear." The Bat calmly clarifies. "Which they are." There's no apology forthcoming for rattling Molly in the pursuit of further clarity on that point-- nor does he belabor the attitude post-warning. It is what it is; as always. "But if you think this is taking on a grudge and -hunting- you..." the Dark Knight can't contain a subtle, dark smirk at the very thought, ".. you know even less about how I operate than you seem to." It's a lot to process, and an intimidating reputation in her circles-- Batman gets that.

So in his infinite politeness, he gives her time to process what he's actually trying to tell her. One glance, the Caped Crusader is still there, standing his imposing vigil. The next, the car seems to be empty once more, absent her interloper, and far closer to Molly's intended stop. It's hard to forget the warning, though: Don't make him dig to find out what he has to know. He's all but sure to return; apparently, whenever and wherever he pleases.

Molly Millions has posed:
There's bemusement in Molly's posture again, the slight tilt of her head and the way she settles her weight primarily on one leg, like she genuinely can't comprehend what he's saying, or that it just... refuses to make sense to her. She's still trying to work it out when suddenly he disappears and she elects to rub her forehead with her hand,"There is not enough derms in the world." she mutters practically under her breath,"At least Nighttown made /sense/."