2766/Living Dead Girl

Living Dead Girl
Date of Scene:	09 October 2017
Location:	Unknown
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Black Canary, Shatterpoint

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Black Canary has posed:
    The Narrows. When people joke about "hives of scum and villainy," it really is the best example of it in Gotham, which is saying something. Unpleasant things don't just happen at night, but during the day as well...and the people who live there generally don't get much help over being victimized.

    Which is one of the reason Black Canary makes it part of her patrols on a semi-regular basis. While it's a regenerating cesspool of crime, she at least can feel she helps keep it in check. Lately, however, she's been hearing reports that someone else is doing the same...and not a member of the Batfamily, or one of her own students.

    Thus, why she's running along the rooftops of the dilapidated tenements and other buildings, on patrol, but also on the lookout for clues on this new vigilante's trail or identity. Partly because the reports she's gotten have been...mixed. Criminals being a superstitious lot and people loving a good story where someone gets their comeuppance, it's been unclear exactly how much of the damage was acually done by whoever it is, and how much is just people spinning scary stories.

    I mean, some people are claiming a zombie attacked them!

Shatterpoint has posed:
    Shatterpoint doesn't read much news, and doesn't watch any form of media. If she did, she'd have a problem with that last description- because she doesn't actually look dead. She's just... A little too pale to look alive, which is hard to notice when your arm isn't bending the right way anymore.

    Separating out the fact from the fiction isn't especially difficult. Someone is cracking heads in the Narrows, in a way that even Bats probably isn't fond of. Multiple broken bones, contusions, subdermal lesions and internal bleeding... Nothing especially fatal, but there are several people who may never walk again occupying Gotham General. Handcuffed to their beds, sure, but still.

    The rest is difficult to sort through. Several have no idea what even hit them. Others say it was a mutant. There's that one guy that swears they saw whatever it was eating a guy's brain before it attacked him. The only consistent thing about any of their statements is the eyes. They glow, in the darkness. Bioluminescence? Either way, when the most you can see is a glowing pair of eyes in the night, before parts of you just -break- inside, it is a little chilling.

    In response, the ever-swarming gutter-punks of the Narrows and other slum-havens have started arming up. Blades, guns, whatever they can get their hands on, and right now? Money is no object.

    Idly wandering down one sidewalk, at night, is a woman. She seems dressed in business casual, but not necessarily the modern sort. Button-up, slacks. Nice dress shoes. Were it not for the jumpiness on the streets of the Narrows nowadays, she'd be a pretty likely target. She's not uncommon, either. Seems to just be a person heading home after work.

Black Canary has posed:
    Style is generally not what draws the ne'er-do-wells of the Narrows. Unless it suggests money. And a middle class business type person walking down the street this time of night, when most of the residents have made sure to be inside and their doors locked and barred, is just asking for trouble.

    Predictably, she finds it, in the form of three thugs who drift out of an alley front of her to block her path...while two more step out of an alcove behind her, to cut her off from behind.

    "Hey pretty lady..." the apparently leader says, a wiry, scarred man with an unfortunate tattoo of a giant spider covering the side of his shaved head. "Where ya goin' this time of night? Don't ya know it's not safe?' The other gang member snicker at that.

    Up on the roofs, Canary is just rounding a old, rusted air conditioner as it thumps away when her eyes are drawn to the altercation. Were she a Bat type, she'd be looking for a place for a grappling line so she could swing in to suprise the thugs. But that's never been her thing.

    Instead she slips over the side, dropping lightly to a fire escape, then swinging herself down to the next level, then the next, as she rapidly descends until she can drop to the ground in a crouch in the alley recently vacated by the thugs, startling a man waiting there. This is important, because he's the one with the drawn, if cheap, SMG, apparently on lookout for just such an arrival. His eyes open wide as Canary appears beside him, her blue eyes also widening...but of the two, she's the faster, as she snaps up a block to the hand with the gun, shifting it up and twisting to force him to drop it as she drives the other fist into his solar plexus, causing him to choke, wheeze, then fall over. Which is where she takes a moment to choke him out, then lowers him to the ground after ziptie-ing his hands. She then picks up the SMG and pops the clip, which she pockets, then ejects the bullet already in the gun, before setting it down to the side to proceed quietly towards the alley opening.

    Surely that couldn't have taken too long for them to get past the initial 'let's threaten and terrorize our target' part most thugs follow like they've got a script.

Shatterpoint has posed:
    The woman on the sidewalk doesn't have to concern herself with various things. Sneaking around, trying to get the drop on the guy with the obvious SMG... It works, and perhaps she could -do- it, but she has other ideas.

    When Canary finishes with the man who had drawn prematurely, what greets her is nowhere near what she expects to see. The man who had done the initial threatening is on his knees. Despite being half a foot taller than the woman he had stopped, his face and jaw are in her hand, and after a moment, he just starts screaming.

    The other thugs panic, but have yet to start shooting- each of them is likely armed similarly to the man Canary took out in the alleyway. Backing away from the threat, they're arguing about what to do- some want to shoot, others are worried they'll hit 'Arachno' (because 'Spider' was taken like, eighty times over) and nobody wants anybody dead at the moment.

    They argue for long enough that she just drops him. He collapses, whimpering, his face no longer the right color, flesh turning lightly blue around where her hand had been. Idly, she snaps her fingers. There is a loud, sickening crack from under the man's hands as his jaw deforms, splitting in a couple of areas sure to be horrifying and painful, but not lethal. He'll need to get some work done.

    Now, the thugs don't know what to do. Arachno is a lost cause. Do they shoot? Run? Shoot and run? Run and shoot?

Black Canary has posed:
    Canary's eyes widen a bit at the sound of bone breaking...she's well familiar with that, and to do it with a touch...ooookay. This is not a normal woman, obviously.

    Meanwhile, the thugs consider, little hamster wheels running at full speed. Hey, there are still four of them, right!? They outnumber the weird chica! And they've got GUNS! Granted, they're cheap pistols and wildly inaccurate at range, but this close, hey, why not try?

    You can almost see that decision crossing their mind as they draw said weapons and start to aim, when Canary comes out of the alley and blindsides the two thugs who were with Arachno blocking the woman in a flurry of strikes. It's over pretty quickly for them, as Canary doesn't mess around when people have firearms out around 'innocent' people, and after a flurry of punches and a quick knee to the groin, the two are groaning on the ground as the blonde vigilante kicks their guns away.

    The remaining two are frozen for a moment, then look at each other. Nooope! They turn to try and bolt. Two vigilante freaks at once is entirely two much!

    

Shatterpoint has posed:
    Apparently, the woman can hear what happens to the fellows that were closer. It's why she turns her focus onto the other two, who decide that discretion is the better part of not ending up in the hospital, and book it.

    They're the smartest, clearly, but the problem is that running away isn't easy. Not from this. Her arms draw back and fling forward, and from her sleeves fires a pair of... Chains? They're seemingly a dim blue, made of something clearly not metallic in nature. As if alive, too, they surge forward, in one laser-straight line, right at the backs of the legs of the fleeing men, one each. When they arrive, their tips seem to attach, ever so slightly, to the soft flesh at the rear of their legs.

    A moment's worth of pause later, for them to be at the right moment in their stride, and she lurches both arms backwards. Though it is harder to hear from the distance, the sick popping noise of their knee-joints being yanked backwards, legs bending the wrong way as they do, is still audible. They collapse to the ground, howling in obvious pain. They won't be going anywhere anytime soon without a stretcher. Those chains retreat, sliding back into her sleeves and out of sight, perhaps even ceasing to be, altogether.

    She still hasn't said a word, and without bothering to start now, she starts walking, in the same direction she'd been going.

Black Canary has posed:
    Ooookay. Canary can't help but feel that maaaaay be verging on excessive force. And definitely not a normal girl here.

    As the woman starts proceeding down the sidewalk, Dinah steps in front of her, frowning, her blue eyes hard. "Hi. I'm the welcome wagon. I've been looking for you." She's polite, if firm. And looks like she's not going to move. "Need to have a chat with you about what you've been doing." The wailing and sobbing from the maimed thugs isn't exactly good background for a civil conversation, of course. But she'll deal with getting a couple squad cars and an ambulance out here. In a moment.

    Someone else is currently at the top of her 'to do' list, in terms of finding out what the hell is going on.

Shatterpoint has posed:
    This woman may not be killing people like some -other- vigilantes, but she's not doing anyone any real favors. At the very least, they'll probably be off the streets. When the other woman steps in front of her, she stops, and spends a few moments pretty much dedicated to listening to the blonde.

    She's the one Canary's been looking for, though. Her eyes are glowing. Occasionally, this small pulse passes from pupil out to the edge of her iris. Were it not for those, and what she'd just done, she wouldn't cut that much of an imposing figure.

    However, having the other side of that chat doesn't seem to be in Caroline's best interest- and when Canary seems to be interested in occupying her time, she aims to cut it short. Stepping off to the side, she moves forward, her intent clearly to step around the blonde and walk off.

Black Canary has posed:
    Canary inwardly sighs as the other woman tries to sidestep around her. Ah. It's going to be one of -those- conversations. She skips back a few steps then plants herself in front of her again. "I'm being polite here." she notes, folding her arms. "If it was Batman who found you first, you'd already be cuffs alongside those guys. It's in your best interest to talk to me now.' Sweet reason and politeness. She can do that. She's not the -best- at it, of course. But she can do it.

    "...you -can- talk, right?" she says, a bit questioningly now.

Shatterpoint has posed:
    She pauses there, as the other woman claims politeness. She doesn't say anything, though... Probably to Canary's frustration. Instead, she just sort of stands there, in silence. Canary isn't going to let her leave, but clearly, is not of the type that Caroline would hit. She doesn't look intimidated by the mention of Batman, nor does she look nonplussed.

    She's just sort of... There. Waiting for Canary to say whatever it is she has to say. Almost certainly if she did take part, this'd be a one-sided conversation. So she isn't saying anything, and she's letting the other woman raise whatever points she's going to. It's a little... Awkward. Probably not the best way of handling it.

Black Canary has posed:
    Canary hmms as there's no response. Okay. So either no, or she doesn't want to. She's unsure if this means she's capable, or if someone has done...this...to her, and she's an escaped mad scientist project or something. It wouldn't be the first time, sadly, that some poor innocent got transformed against their will and was left wandering loose.

    Thus, her tone turns a bit more sympathetic. "Look...I just want to know who you are and what's up with you. What's your name? Are you from around here? Why are you attacking people...admittedly, criminal people...in the Narrows?" There's another pause, then she asks more slowly. "Do you need help? Not with beating up thugs, because obviously you don't, but...are you in trouble?"

    She motions to the whimpering Arcano nearby. "You shattered his jaw...I'm pretty sure you crippled the other two. You could have killed them if those chains ripped an artery open. This isn't how we do things in Gotham. It's one thing to take someone down, and some injuries are inevitable. But this level is...a bit beyond what will be overlooked. Even GCPD will take note if they keep running into scenes like this...people will start freaking out, it'll hit the papers, and then there will be a hunt on for you. I've seen it happen."

    She sighs. "Just talk to me. Please. I'm not here to take you in or take you down. But I do need to know."

Shatterpoint has posed:
    Listening like it's a classroom, the woman Canary is trying to get to- ironically- chill out... Doesn't seem to be taking this to heart. Rather, she is, to an extent. The problem is that, now -like- certain other vigilantes, Caroline doesn't seem to care. She doesn't really know it, but there's little risk to any of the other Gothamite heroes. Their reputations are pretty secure, but the GCPD will likely be hunting Caroline soon, with little evidence who she is, or isn't. It'll be like chasing a ghost, when it happens.

    She waits, listens, and then Canary says something that sort of frees her. After all of that attempt at sympathy- which, admittedly, is credit to Canary's character- Caroline just shrugs. She seems to be okay with what she's inviting- and, all the same, doesn't seem to think she's in much danger at all.

    With that "said," she does intend to do one thing: Step off to the side, and then around Canary, in order to just... Walk away, into the night. She still hasn't actually -spoken- either, which is just a touch maddening.

Black Canary has posed:
    Well, a reaction at least. So she's not an automaton, and is capable of responding. She just isn't. Dinah tries not to take that personally, though she'd be lying if it wasn't a tad frustrating to not get more than that.

    This time, Canary lets her step past, but turns to follow her. "Can I at least get a name, or what name you want to call yourself?" she says, easily keeping pace. She's just not going to give up, apparently. The patented 'pester them until they respond' technique. "If nothing else...I try to keep track of other independents around here. Just in case they need help." There's that word again. "Can give you a number." Or a phone, if it comes to that...that's what burner phones are for.

Shatterpoint has posed:
    Caroline spent fifty years doing... Literally nothing. By now, she's developed an incredible level of patience. As Canary follows along, the cold woman just keeps walking. There are questions, repeated, likely, some level of insistence... Over time, though, Caroline does not relent. Canary doesn't get a name or a number of any kind- it's not necessarily the worst thing in the world, as Caroline isn't necessarily on the same scale as the punks she's likely to encounter on the street. There's something moral to argue there, probably- but for now, she just lets Canary eventually get tired of asking.

Black Canary has posed:
    And eventually, she does, her hands on her hips as she watches the other woman walk away, a frown on her lips. "...right then.' she mutters, rubbing her face a bit, then glancing at the moaning thugs still laid out on the ground behind them. "Fine. But I'll likely see you again." she calls after the other woman, before turning on her heel to walk back to the human wreckage behind. Time to call some squad cars and an ambulance or three. And to assure them that she'll be here waiting for them to provide security. It's that kind of neighborhood.

    The new vigilante concerns her...but she's delivered an offer of help, and a warning. Everyone gets one. Hers tend to be more polite than others. But she'll just have to keep track...and if she doesn't changed, then...mmm. Well, they'll see then. She really hopes she's willing to listen. Next time.