2340/Bludhaven By Night

Bludhaven By Night
Date of Scene:	05 September 2017
Location:	Bludhaven
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Nightwing, Ravager

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Nightwing has posed:
    It's a different vibe in Bludhaven. Gotham has its darkness and the Gothic charm that makes it something at least marginally attractive to the aesthetic. Bludhaven... Bludhaven has none of that. It was a steel town, industrial, and then the steel left. Now it's mainly known as an extension of Gotham, Gotham's Jersey as it were and it can be felt in the way the people move and the palpable air of oppression that seems to settle on them as they go through their lives. It's hard enough to try and make your way in such a town, and then add in citizens like Dimitri Anatov and matters go from worse to hellish.
    "Dimitri doesn't usually handle things directly," Nightwing turns from the edge of the steel mill's rooftop, his attention shifting back towards the Ravager. "Word on the street he was going to take a personal hand in matters tonight. If we catch him, it'll go a long way to dealing with the Russian mob in the city."
    The acrobat is kneeling beside the small stone wall, one gauntleted hand resting there as he looks towards the female fighter, "Figured you might want a piece of him." There's a pause as those irisless eyes shift back towards her and she'll see him smirk, "Unless you got something more interesting to do tonight."

Ravager has posed:
The mysterious Ravager puts her shoulder up against the wall and raises her head like a periscope to squint over the outcropping, down toward the shadowy figures, "I'll kick his f****** ass," she blurts out under her breath, then purses her lips in reflex, because Nightwing probably won't like that comment.

The leather-clad mercenary is kneeling there awaiting Nightwing's next move, "Word on the street," she mutters in repetition, as if discounting that source of info, "Could be legit," she adds, trying to stay positive at least. She wears long leathery gloves with red digits, as if symbolically saying she's ready to bloody her hands and beat some ass with her fists. Only, those fists are gripping a pair of Escrima Sticks, hard sticks of WOOD, meant to deliver clubbing blows like she's Bruce Lee or something. Sliding her shoulder back below the short lil wall, she glances over at this Nightwing guy now and says, "Well, I'm ready."

Nightwing has posed:
    The vigilante in the kevlar and leather armor gives her a small nod, even as he slides back down into hiding behind the bordering wall around that rooftop's edge. He reaches a gauntlet down to his waist and detaches a small camera that's little more than a black sphere that he sets down upon the edge of that wall, letting it swivel and feed the display to the HUD in Nightwing's visor. Slowly he'll let it shift as it scans the perimeter of the large truck distribution yard, all of the semi-trucks and containers parked in various states of neglect even though there seems to be a preponderance tonight of men smoking and leaning against black SUVs.
    Towards Rose, the erstwhile Robin gives her a nod, "Looks like we have four at the main gate, and two pairs of men walking the fence. When the rest of them shows up and we get eyeballs on Dimitri and their cargo... then we move."
    That having been said he'll stop looking at the data display behind his mask and tilt his head towards her, "So can you keep it together for a few minutes, or do you need to do some sudoku or something?"

Ravager has posed:
The mysterious Ravager smirks, "Shut up, oh my gawd," she mutters in complaint, inclining her neck toward his technological gadget as he reports the situation in a super helpful way.

She shifts her all-knowing gaze back to the shadowy figures below, "What're you gonna do when you get the drop on him?" she mutters, "Just kick his ass? Wreck his stuff? He's only gonna get more stuff. We should hand him over," she suggests, though to who she doesn't say.

Nightwing has posed:
    A gauntlet lifts to rub a fingertip at the bridge of his nose, the mask making it darn awkward to get at the itch. But he crinkles his nose a bit and tells her, "Well, unless he slaps iron on us, draws steel, skins his smokewagon, then we should be a bit careful since he's seventy six years old." Nightwing offers to her, "So..."
    He spreads his hands towards her as if to offer his explanation with that gesture, "We wait for him to make his appearance, make sure the people are there, then take out his guards. Non-lethally." He pauses to eye her meaningfully, then goes on. "Make sure he's caught in the act basically, hold down the fort til emergency services arrive, then once the cops get on the scene we bail."
    A pause is given then he adds, "Ideally, it's quick, without a mess. Alright?"

Ravager has posed:
"Smokes his wagon? Huh...?" she wonders quietly. The mysterious Ravager smirks again as she considers Nightwing's simple plan, "I got it, boss. Simple plan. Kick ass only a lil. Turn em in. No mess," she repeats.

She then looks at Nightwing to give a nod, because he probably won't believe her, "I'm guessing you got the cops standing by waiting for your very special go, huh?" she asks, "Yeah, you're always prepared," she says mutedly. She glances at the shadowy figures again in an impatient way, because she kneels there sullenly squeezing her stick things.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Well," Nightwing looks at her sidelong and she'll see him bite the corner of his mouth, "Things here in Bludhaven aren't... quite the same as they are in Gotham." He slides a boot forwards, the gravel crunching underfoot as he waves a hand to the side slightly, "Less cooperation. I have a few contacts in the department, and I asked them to keep ready. But no idea how long it'll be before they react. So the whole holding the fort thing... might be a bit longer than normal."
    At that confession he smirks at her sidelong, "Still, yeah I'm mostly prepared. Got a problem with that?" He offers back but without vitriol, always amused at her manner and bravado for the most part.

Ravager has posed:
The mysterious Ravager hmms and shrugs a shoulder like it doesn't matter, "Guess not," she answers. She then glances at him as he crunch-crunches around and moves position, then watches him as he rambles on about Gotham and Bludhaven, probably trying to decide if she really cares or not.

She sits back on her heels and then asks, "Did you call em on your red bat-phone?" she wonders.

Nightwing has posed:
    "Don't be silly," Nightwing tells her as he eyes her askance, though his attention shifts away for a moment. In the window in his HUD he'll see the caravan of three more SUVs roll up into the distribution point, the metal fence gate opening with a faint clang and clank as one of the men walking the perimeter pulls it open to allow the vehicles access. "The bat phone is black."
    With that answer, however, he touches a hand to the side of his mask and frowns. He forces the small camera to zoom in... zoom in. It's not until the vehicles stop and people start to get out that he'll nod.
    "Alright, that's him." He reaches up and grabs the camera from the wall and connects it back to his belt. "I'll take the east side, you grab the west, we meet in the middle. And remember, no killin'." He points at her most sternly, then casually plants a hand on the wall and /flips/ over the side.