381/All Hell Breaks Loose

All Hell Breaks Loose
Date of Scene:	12 May 2017
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	Batman, Batwoman

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Batman has posed:
It's late in China Basin, and while there's much less activity this time of night than during the day, the streets still have their fair share of pedestrians and drivers alike.

From between a cluster of street vendors plying their late-night snacks, a man in a leather jacket flies out from an alley and tumbles into the middle of the street.

The vendors turn, their faces paling, as they recognize the man's jacket--or, rather, the Triad insignia on its back.

At the mouth of the alley stands a man in another recognizable insignia: a large black bat on the chest of his sharp-eared outfit.

Batwoman has posed:
Watching from above the gathering is a figure shrouded in black and crimson. Her flowing red hair frames her shoulders, more or less invisible from the ground in this position. It helps that she is standing in a shadow.

Batwoman has her hand on her utility belt, checking the pistol she carries like a safetly blanket while her left hand taps her mask to adjust her optics. There's a moment where she tilts her head while she studies the people beneath her. She doesn't bother drawing the weapon. Instead the woman draws herself to her full six feet of height and walks to the edge of the roof.

The cape billows out behind the woman in a flood of brilliant crimson amid black, suddenly starkly visible in the darkness. Like Batman decided to style his cape in blood. Her chest mimics this, a crimson Bat like a bloodstain on black fabric.

It seems the woman is approaching from thew rong angle to notice Batman stepping onto the scene. She alights not too far from the conflict and pauses, blueeyesi ntense as she studies he people there.

This is when they usually run.

Batman has posed:
The street vendors are indeed packing up their carts as best they can, glancing back over their shoulders--as much at the man in the street as the man in the alley. Those who spot the sudden arrival of Batwoman pick up the pace, various goods jostling and falling over the sidewalk and curb.

Those tourists and other pedestrians in the area similarly give space, although a block or so away, a handful of men and women in similar-looking leather jackets seem to spy their comrade in the street (who, for his part, is moving, but slowly and with audible groans).

As Batwoman touches down, Batman looks over his shoulder at her and narrows his eyes slightly. "This is not a funny prank," he says with a cold growl. "Go home. Throw that away."

Batwoman has posed:
"Is that what Batman sounds like in person?" Batwoman replies in a soft, sultry alto voice that is equal parts seductive and bone chillingly cold. "This isn't a prank." She walks easily, footsteps clicking agains the pavement with purpose as people are stepping away from her. She shrugs her shoulders a bit bonelessly.

"His friends are about to come over here and try to retrieve him," the redhead notes, cocking her head slightly as she does. "I've been after them for a few days now. If you'll excuse me." As she passes the Triad on the ground he blearily tries to get up. There's an ill-fated swipe taken at the passing crimson Bat. She kicks him sharply, just once, to make him think better of moving.

Apparently Bat woman is going to do this the old-fashioned way, eyeing the Triads from the market with a thoughtful frown. "You should probably leave. Last thing I need is for them to run away."

Batman has posed:
"I don't want to have to be responsible for you," Batman replies, flexing his hand. "It's not a prank /or/ a game," he continues, turning to step after Batwoman, but he stops. "Don't fool yourself into thinking it is."

Nonetheless, Batman stands in the middle of the street next to the fallen Triad member, and he folds his arms across his chest to observe Batwoman.

The rest of the Triad members, meanwhile, produce a variety of bladed weaponry and two submachine guns. They call out angrily: "You're in the wrong place! Time to find out what goes down in the Basin after dark!"

Batwoman has posed:
There's a moment where Batwoman pauses. She looks back at the man behind her and shakes her head once before starting out of the alley. Except, from the perspective of the Triads members she disappears. What actually appens is that at the end of the alley she ducks against a walll instead of exiting, firing a grapple line upward that carries her toward the roof. She reaches for her belt and draws out a black batarang that flashes with a red light when it's thrown. A few second later, the grenade goes off.

Smoke. Red smoke, not black, like the bat herself. Then Batwoman dives off the rooftop and toward the group of men. It's less fluid than Batman would do but it's smooth and she's completely fearless. Also, as it happens, bulletproof. A crimson hellbat is fluttering through the air to suddenly drop like a stone on top of one of the submachine gun wielders. Then the fight is on.

Batwoman is a good martial artist. One of the best, in fact. She's not Batman but a layman would be hardpressed to tell she's not as good.

Batman has posed:
The Triad members wielding guns fire blindly, although one of the guns is knocked out of a hand mid-burst. It rattles on the ground, spitting out a few more rounds into the air.

The others in the group shout for one another and swing their weapons--and their limbs--at the sudden intruder, their visibility completely shot by the red smoke engulfing them. Amid the cries are coughs and choking sounds.

One of the gang members slashes his friend, who in turn gasps and offers a roundhouse kick that knocks out a third.

Down the street, Batman watches, silent and motionless.

Batwoman has posed:
Punch, block, duck, counterpunch. Throw. Batwoman's fighting style is different. She focuses much more on practical brutality of the sort taught by militaries. There will be a lot of serious injuries here. She's also sweating.

Even in a smoke cloud people can track her, at least slightly, by movement. It's enough to have even Batwoman, buttressed by vision augmentation that ignores smoke completely, hardpressed to dodge every blow. She blocks with her red spiked gauntlets, but catches a knife against the ribs. It glances off her armor but if she wasn't wearing it she might have been seriously hurt. Or she might have dodged, since she used the strike as the opening she needed for a punishing knee to the gut and a kick that renders the guy unconscious. And missing teeth.

Another wild burst of gunfire and the second gunman drops. Then the crimson bat is breathing heavily, standing amid the groaning and bloodied bodies, looking around as he smoke dissipates. Checking for someone who is still standing.

Batman has posed:
No one is still technically /standing/ ... although there is a female Triad member with a butterfly knife feigning unconsciousness who performs a quick kip-up and stabs at Batwoman, screaming in rage. The gang member jabs at Batwoman's stomach, armpit, and neck in a rapid series of attacks.

Batman, meanwhile, drags his original groaning target by the ankle down the now-empty street. The Triad member, in a daze, tries to grab hold of anything that might obstruct his enemy--but it's a street, after all, and his efforts are in vain.

Batwoman has posed:
There aren't many vulnerabilities. The knife slides along Batwoman's stomach and then she has her arms up again. Dodge left, right, block with the arm. Block again. The initial flurry of assaults is vicious enough that the bat is completely on the defensive. Then, unfortunately, the switchblade catches on one of the spikes on those blood red gauntlets. After that the last gang member goes down with an abdomen full of cracked and shattered ribs.

This handled Batwoman stops to spit on the ground next to a fallen foe. She looks around slowly, scanning the buldings with serious blue eyes. Then she shakes her head. To herself she half-grumbles, "That's the second time we've met and I've been a complete asshole." Kate's natural voice is an octave higher than Batwoman's rich, almost lascivious haunting alto.

Attractive while still a dark spectre that stalks the night. Can't a girl have her cake and eat it too?

Quietly Batwoman goes about the swift and inelegant process of ziptying the gangmembers together and ensuring no one can reach a knife. Then she starts to walk. Quietly. Batman, at least, would know she is approaching even if no one else can tell.

Batman has posed:
Dragging the other Triad gang member to the collection restrained by Batwoman, Batman lets the man's leg fall. He looks around and exhales quietly. "Hh," he says, followed by a silent moment.

"So why were--or are--you after them?" Batman asks quietly, his arms at his sides, hidden under the folds of his cape. "Something personal?" he adds, nodding to the small pool of Batwoman's spittle.

Batwoman has posed:
"I don't let people get away," is the short reply from Batwoman as she pauses, a brow lifting upon seeing that Btman is approaching her pile of goons. She takes a deep breath then and slowly shrugs. "Not when they're still up to the same bullshit. I busted up an other operation of theirs earlier this week. I wanted to make sure they message took."

Now properly oriented on Batman the crimson Bat is crossing her arms across her chest in a much more visible way, watching him move. "I'm not playing a game," she states flatly. "I was covering about half the city earlier this week," the woman responds finally, shaking her head in a waterfall of crimson tresses. "Almost surprised this is the first time we've met up."

Batman has posed:
"Given the sloppiness of your fighting, I'd say you could have fooled me," Batman replies, his face in a grimace, "but we both know you couldn't have. And it's easier to cover much of the city when there are others also taking care of it."

The dark knight steps toward Batwoman. "Do you /really/ think you have what it takes to protect Gotham? That you can keep up with those who have trained almost their entire lives for it?" He stares at her, his expression fading to suggest a flat emotionlessness.

Batwoman has posed:
"I already have," Batwoman responds simply, watching as Gotham's once lone protector approaches her. She stands firm, planting her feet but keeping herself expressionless save for the grimness of her countenance, obscured by a mask. She purses her full, red lips as the man comes closer.

"I'm not trying to imitate you. Or rip off your schtick," the redhead continues quietly, her blue eyes intense in compairson to the emotionlessness of the one confront of her. "Oy vavoy," she adds, in an uncharacteristic slip, just a mutter under her breath- in Hebrew. "I want to be. You." She enunciates it clearly. "Show me how. I'm not stopping."

Batman has posed:
The caped crusader glances at the red bat on the woman's chest. "An interesting way of avoiding imitation," he states calmly. "Still," he adds, slowly stepping around Batwoman, "it's clear you have the potential to take care of yourself..."

As Batman completes his walk around the crimson bat, he clears his throat. "You want a chance to be me?" he asks. "Are you sure you know what you're asking?" The man is silent for several long beats.

"Alright," Batman says. "I'll give you the chance to be me. The city is yours to protect. Not alone--there are still others out there, as there are now, who may help when they can. But I'll give you the burden for a time. We can see whether you still want to be me."

Batwoman has posed:
Kate's hand reflexively drops towardh er utility belt and, by extension, her gun. She isn't makign a move to draw it, that much is clear by how her muscles tense and the position of her fingers. It's a calming reflex, perhaps. Something that makes sense for someone knowingly walking into battle.

"The bat is a symbol Gotham recognizes. A symbol she needs. You did that, Batman." There'sa bit of wry humour in that statement, though for the most part the female Bat is still expression neutral. Then the woman gives a faint nod.

"Alright. The city is mine to protect. I'm not going to let you down." Kate carefully bites off every word, eyes leveled firmly on the man approaching her. She takes a slow breath and then carefully exhales. "You deserve a vacation."