4611/On A Cold Tin Roof

On A Cold Tin Roof
Date of Scene:	08 June 2018
Location:	Gotham City
Synopsis:	Summary needed
Cast of Characters:	87, Batman

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Vorpal (87) has posed:
It was a purrfect plan, of course. The Gotham Art Museum was doing a special exhibit centered around the cult of Bast. The objects d'art that were portrayed within were thematically appropriate and significant- it was like an engraved invitation for Gotham's most famous cat burglar.

Someone who looks exactly like Catwoman seems to think so, as she slinks carefully across the dome of one of the main exhibition halls. Down there, beneath layers of security both seen and unseen, were glittering treasures begging to be liberated. The security, of course, was daunting. In other words- it was irresistible.

The black-clad figure paces the perimeter, sticking to the shadows while observations and measurements are carefully made.

Batman has posed:
     The Dark Knight has kept an eye out on the Art Museum while the exhibit was underway. He found a hit, a lone woman stalking the museum.

  It wasn't enough to just show up. Batman had to surprise her. From one of the shadows, he peers. "Catwoman." He growls, unamused and disappointed it seems.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
She spins around in the direction of the sound, and crouches low. A very catlike reaction, and he was clearly displeased at being taken by surprise.

"Well, look at what the cat dragged in," she says, her voice is husky. She is clearly speaking under her breath, for effect.

Or, actually, it is because Vorpal has never actually heard Catwoman speak. So he is defaulting to that particular effect to mask the voice.

Batman has posed:
     Batman emerges from the shadow, the gold bat symbol on his chest speaks for itself. "Whatever it is you have planned, don't. Just walk away." He didn't want to have to take her in but he would.

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Batman." She reaches up to tug the night-time vision goggles up as the Bat emerges, and she smiles. "After all, I came here exclusively to talk to you." She leans back against the dome and crosses her arms.

And then Catwoman dissolves, leaving behind Vorpal, leaning against the dome.

Batman has posed:
     "You should really do more research before you impersonate someone, Vorpal." Batman quips, crossing his arms. The detective apparently not really having bought it. "Or you could just ask to meet." Occam's Razor, it seems, is Batman's preferred explanation. "What do you need?".

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"It isn't exactly easy to reach you. Outside of certain areas where I am sure you'd prefer people not to poke their noses in..." the Cheshire clmbs up a little on the dome, enough that he can sit on his haunches.

"Robin's been injured, and we have a confirmation on the culprit. Unfortunately, they're someone on whom we have very little intel."

He waits for a second. Of course it's impossible to gauge Batman's reaction. The cowl's design makes all expression pretty much unreadable. "You know Jason Todd, of course."

Batman has posed:
     "And it isn't wise to use real names outside of /closed doors/." Batman retorts, only to bring his gloved hand to his face. "I'm up to date on Robin's condition. If he needed to be moved, I would have arranged it."

  The bat steps out more, cape draped over his front, making a haunting silhouette. It's of no surprise they don't have very much intel, but he is also the world's largest holder of intel. "Of course I do."

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"I am sure you already knew he was among the living before any of us did. No real names, right... He's going by 'Red X' now, I don't know why. He's developed a fixation with the Titans."

The cheshire leans back against the dome. "Robin and I weren't around when he was, so all I can infer is that he has a chip on his shoulder towards us. And towards you, since he tried to break in... you know."

He pauses. "So we have a man risen from the dead, looking for some sort of payback. It's almost Emily Bronte-esque. And the only way to beat an enemy is to know him... so..."

He leans forward, elbows on his knees. "What can you tell me abut good ol' X that is pertinent to his current insanity?"

Batman has posed:
     Batman's white eyelets pierce back to Vorpal. Without speaking, he activates his gauntlet computer, bringing up a file. "Robin's maternal grandfather operates what are called Lazarus Pits. They can bring a man back from death, but there are side effects. If Red X is operating under the influence of a Lazarus Pit, then it is safe to assume his angers he had in life, are now magnified threefold. That specific Robin had issues with the Titans, not your group specifically, but a Titans group nevertheless."

  Batman's slightly armored suit flexes as a small chip is taken out of his gauntlet. "X, as you call him, did not fit in well with others, even myself. He had a large amount of rage built up in him he was never really able to let out. Unfortunately I cannot tell you the degree of how insane is is currently. I don't have information on his whereabouts, and no intel on who he would be working with. I recommend your team stand down, I can draw him out, make sure he gets the help he needs."

Vorpal (87) has posed:
"And in the process, basically admit that we're not fit to actually call ourselves a team, much less heroes. Is that what we're going with, here?" Vorpal tilts his head. "You are telling me that the daughter of Practically Satan, a Robin, a cyborg and Wonder Woman's protege don't stand much of a chance against this guy?" He raises an eyebrow, clearly not including himself in that number. "I don't know if this is a test or not, but outside of one person in the team, I don't think anyone is willing to let this go."

"All I need is a toehold into his head. Surely there must be something, some sort of trauma, some sort of memory I can exploit."