2323/SWORD Learns About Intergang

SWORD Learns About Intergang
Date of Scene:	04 September 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Voodoo, Oracle

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Voodoo has posed:
With her mask pulled back so that her face is revealed, Priscilla looks at Abigail and then down at the digital pad thing she was handed. She pretends to leaf through the pages before she puts it down on the desk. "OK. So, soem rep from The Batman. That guy is supposed to be super creepy. Like, gives Zealot lessons in hard-ass or something. And they've got a branch of a major new gang, and evidence of super-tech someone thinks might be alien?"

And why does Priscilla insist on going over this verbally? She doesn't say. But she does, which means Abigail Brand, Director of SWORD, is having to verbally hand-hold her agent through a mission briefing. It would be ludicrous, frankly. But for some reason, Abby puts up with it.

Once Priss knows enough to do her job, she nods, pulls her mask up and over to cover her face and seals it in place, then nods again. "OK. Voodoo is on the job. And I'll use the little dohickey to record everything, so we have good notes afterwards." Because Voodoo's after-action reports usually involve dictation. Good thing the computers on the station include top-flight voice recognition.

So, on or around the time agreed upon, there's a flare of golden light, which recedes to reveal a tall, visibly feminine figure clad in skin-tight purple with gold accents, a sword across her back, a blaster on her hip, and a belt of various gizmos. Purple eyes look out through the lenses of the suit, sweeping the area, before she then steps out and turns towards the closest person nearby. "Hi." comes that altered voice, the one Abigail would remember from their phone conversation during her 'interview' process. Minor shapeshifting tricks for the win! "I'm Voodoo. SWORD sent me."

Here goes nothing. Or, like, everything.

Oracle has posed:
    Babs is dressed down, even more than her usual casual outfits nowadays. She seems a touch uncomfortable even -before- there's a costumed woman announcing herself after a flare of golden light. She nearly -leaps- up, "Ah! ...Oh, wait, of course you guys have teleporters. Not the same colour as the bad guys though, so that's... good. Plus I'm not sure they were actually teleporting but..." She shakes her head and then looks around quickly, giving a little 'follow me' motion.

    It's a short trip, up to a clock tower that looks like it's resisting Gotham's decay by sheer size alone, although the door the redheaded woman opens has a keypad next to the door frame that she types a quick code into before there's a series of heavy thunks and the rusted door swings open to reveal a stark modern interior, something between a crime lab and an armory, although none of the gadgets or weapons look lethal, a lot of folding boomerangs and the like.

    Babs spins about and settles in a chair at the table in the middle of the room, clearing her throat, "Okay... you can call me Oracle for now. I work with Batman, and... well, as much as -he- thinks we can handle everything in Gotham, I've heard SWORD handles aliens, and there's a gang getting laser guns and possibly teleporters, and that sure sounds alien. So maybe we can help each other out, right?"

Voodoo has posed:
Priscilla - inside the mask - feels her eyes go wide. She really wasn't expecting someone in civilian attire and without a mask; she's a bit non-plussed. But she doesn't say anything, she just follows along. This is what she imagines a special agent of SWORD should do and how she should comport herself ... well, except Abby would do all of this with cool shades and a dark suit.

Voodoo keeps her eyes peeled, taking in all manner of details, and at the same time instinctively sampling the feelings of the other woman as they make their way across the street, into the secured clocktower, and then up to this workspace. She files away the codename, and resolves to use her own, as Oracle lays things out.

"You can call me Voodoo. And if it is alien technology, especially if it is coming from an off-world source, then yes: that is exactly what SWORD is about, and we should be able to help each other." Priscilla reviews her words in her head, inwardly nodding: that sounded so official, just like Abby would have wanted. Now, she wracks her brain to figure out what other smart-sounding thing she can say.

"Do you have any samples of the technology, that our experts could examine? It might help us determine an origin for the tech and narrow down the investigation."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs is radiating a complex mixture of nervousness, calm, and a background of stress that's probably pretty constant. She shakes her head with a little sigh. "I don't have any of their tech right now. Some others found a bank they were going to rob and went to stop them, but I haven't heard back yet. I'll have to see if they get any of the technology itself."

    She sighs and rolls her head back with a low groan, relaxing into her seat and almost sprawling. "I mean, Gotham gangs are bad enough, but Gotham gangs with space ships or something? There's no way that's good."

    There's a long pause and then Babs feels her cheeks flush, a spike in her emotions of nervousness and embarrassment. "So... is SWORD nothing but heroines? I mean... you're... I've had experience with costumed women is all! And that doesn't strike me as the sort of military uniform a secret government agency would put -all- their operatives in." Although... well, if they're all like Priss, maybe they would. Barbara's certainly not going to judge, given all the fashions -she's- been in or seen.

Voodoo has posed:
"Mm?" Voodoo offers, watching the other woman very carefully. Then she rolls her shoulders, with predictable effects, and responds as honestly as she can. "SWORD is a lot more than just costumed heroines. There are a lot of agents. But right now, most of those are analysts and scientists, or field engagement personnel." Read: soldiers. "The Director felt that my experience as a costumed vigilante would prove useful interfacing with others who have lived that life." Priss doesn't bring up that Abby probably also felt that putting an empath and telepath, a living, breathing lie detector, on the case might prove useful.

"If you would prefer, I can change." Voodoo comments. "I wasn't really expecting a woman in civilian attire, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

That said, Voodoo agrees. "You're right. Gotham gangs are very nasty, and equipping them with outworld tech could be disastrous, not the least of which because of the influence that might offer those outworld forces here on Earth." And besides, can anyone think of a worse representative of humanity and Earth to an alien species than Gotham gang members? Voodoo sure can't think of many. Maybe Quraci terrorists?

"Do you have any footage? Remnants? Anything the science types up on the station can take a look at to try to make a call as to whether we're dealing with AIM and Stark, or alien hardware?"

Oracle has posed:
    Babs perks her eyebrows up and chirps, "Oh! That makes a lot of sense actually. Sort of how... well, I'm like the support person in Gotham I guess. I mean, I still -have- a costume, but I don't go out much." She chews her lower lip thoughtfully, brows furrowing as her hands fidget. "I've got photos of the scene we first found them at, they managed to tunnel between two buildings in a perfect circle without any heavy equipment, so... like, if the guns do -that-, I can't imagine what we're in for. I've got a dump of their laptop hard drive, but it looks like it was mostly just the gang's stuff, so it's pretty vague about anything related to their new tech."

    And then she sputters, eyes going -wide-. "Oh! You don't have to change! I mean, your costume's good. It looks good. And I'm totally used to hanging out with costumed people. Plus, like, I didn't tell SWORD to send someone with a change of clothes... and you're uhh... taller than most of the borrowed spare clothes I've got around here."

Voodoo has posed:
The costumed woman tilts her head a bit, considering Oracle's words, and the layers she is picking up behind and beneath those words. She clamps down on the inborn urge to just smart alek her way through this by offering to peel out of the uniform without a change of clothes, and only needing maybe a towel to cover one of the chairs so she doesn't stick, because she's pretty sure the redhead might pop a gasket.

Nope. Best to keep that sense of humor to herself right now.

"Alright. If you're sure you don't mind." Voodoo offers, and nods, moving on. New subject, same as the old subject: evil alien tech on Gotham streets.

"Well, copies of the photographs, any video you have, would be helpful. I can't say we'll be able to conclusively identify the weapons as alien from that, but we might be able to narrow things down a bit." Voodoo considers for a bit. "Mmm. Pardon my asking, but do you have any leads on this gang? Things that could be followed up with some surveillance, or dragging in some ... what word do they use? 'Perps', is that it? 'Perps', for questioning?"

Oracle has posed:
    Given the emotions rolling off Babs, she might be halfway to thinking of that solution herself. But she's a professional... non-licensed law enforcement officer? Okay, that's not so professional. But she can control her urges, surely! And so she nods, rummaging around and pulling out a USB drive, and then a small flash memory chip, "Sure, I've got all the video and pictures I took here. Uhh... the video's slow to start. There's a good five or ten minutes of banter and stuff? You know, costumed adventure and all."

    She huffs out a little sigh and shrugs, "Sadly, not really. There's a guy in the pictures who looks like he might be some sort of boss, but between him teleporting away before we got in the buildings, and not having -any- ID I've been able to find so far, he's a needle in a haystack until they show up and do something else."

Voodoo has posed:
Voodoo nods to Oracle. "OK. Why don't you make me a copy of that stuff, and I'll take it along. Maybe our guys can't make any sense of it. But I figure we teleported me down here; might as well come back up with something. And there's always a chance they'll find something." There's no way in heck Priss is going to tell Oracle that the guys at SWORD can do what she and the goldarned Bat couldn't do; she's pretty sure that'd be a lie, anyway. But they ought to try, right? That's what they get paid for.

"If we find anything on the guy, I promise you, we will let you know." It's a promise made between women who have worn costumes and worked outside the strictures of the law. If Abby doesn't like it, well, Priss has been unemployed before. She can do it again. She'll hate it, but she'll do it. "For what it's worth, if you can come up with anything on when they got hold of these weapons, that might help us narrow down the sensor footage and find something tying to the deliveries, assuming they are offworld sourced."

Oracle has posed:
    Babs grins cheekily and passes the card and drive over, "Oh, these -are- copies. I'm a little paranoid about making them... I mean, you know, Gotham and all, you never know when some costumed maniac is going to set off an EMP or something and wipe the originals." She sighs out and shakes her head with the rueful sort of motion that screams 'Boy was that annoying those times it happened'. She smiles brightly to Voodoo and bobs her head at that agreement.

    "Oh, for sure. And I'll call you up the next time I have a lead on anything, maybe we can go out and do the whole rooftop creeping thing together. Then you won't -need- to do a follow up report! Firsthand exposure and all." Yep. That's it, it's for ease of paperwork that Oracle wants to invite Voodoo along. Not because of anything about being worried about space gangsters or wanting the heroine around more. Nope. Just the paperwork for sure.

Voodoo has posed:
After a moment's delay, Voodoo reaches down to her belt and pops open a compartment, pulling out a card, which she hands over. "If you need to get in touch, you can call me direct. This number will route through to me no matter where I am, and as long as I won't get myself killed answering, I'll pick up." Hey, isn't that convenient? "With the teleporters, if you need me, I can probably be to you in just a couple of minutes, regardless where you are or where I am. So, if you need help ..." Yeah, probably shouldn't use the SWORD switchboard and teleporters to arrange for a date. But it doesn't seem like Oracle would quite do that. Think of it, maybe, but not do it.

"Thanks, for the data. Once our folks have gone over it, I'll be sure to let you know if they found anything useful." Voodoo reiterates. "Is there anything else I can do to help, Oracle?" She should ask, right? OK, it's not quite the way Abby would have done it. But it's worth asking, right? God, Abby is probably going to have a field day listening to the recording of this meeting.

Oracle has posed:
    Babs takes that card, slipping it into the front pocket of her jeans after giving it a look over. "Oh... wow, that's like... a -serious- phone number!" She grins crookedly and chirps out, "I promise I won't call you if I see kids in alien halloween costumes or anything. I mean, unless they're -really- really good." She shakes her head quickly and chews her lower lip, "And, I don't think I need any other help with this for now. I mean, I've got to wait until we have another location pinned down, see if anyone else looking into this has found more info. But I can call you with updates like that, right?"

    She stretches her arms above her head with a little groan, "I should probably let you go write all this up or whatever, I mean otherwise you're just going to be hanging around for chitchat and watching me cook dinner. And I bet space cuisine is like... super beyond plain old chicken caesar salad."

Voodoo has posed:
"You might be surprised." Voodoo comments. She doesn't explain if that's about the food, or typing up the report, or whatever. She just offers it, and a nod. "Good luck, Oracle. We'll talk again soon, I'm sure." If only because Priss is absolutely certain Oracle will call her rather than miss the opportunity.

That said, Voodoo gets Oracle to show her out, so as not to set off alarms or anything, and makes her way back to her transfer point, before radioing in. "It's Voodoo. Done here. Whenever you guys are ready, I could use a lift to the station, all glowy and stuff. Thanks."