8644/Shell-Shocked

Shell-Shocked
Date of Scene:	03 August 2019
Location:	A Gotham hotel
Synopsis:	Turtle attacks a mob business meeting, which Damian is undercover guarding. Spoiler responds to the reports of gunfire. Hilarity ensues.
Cast of Characters:	Turtle, Robin (Wayne), Spoiler

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Turtle has posed:
The Turtle has been hired by an automotive interest out of Mississippi, a Chevrolet assembly plant's union (the most scurrilous of humans, the blue collar union scumbag, rats with mole children - Turtle has never understood how those kids get beaten so hard and make it into the diner business or some other Klan business). The plant has been threatened by shutdown, from Toyota, recently allied with a minor Yakuza clan in the interests of negotiating a deal with an American politician for business expansion overseas, so the politician can edge out the union and shut it down, in the interests of bringing in Japanese gangster muscle for cheaper exports for his mutant plantation financial backers, a motley crew of jowley faced women and the men who would normally resemble them, except they're five shades redder and they seem to have hats straight out of Lewis Carroll's worst fantasies of Alice Liddell's haberdasher.

In the top floor of the hotel, at a lounge set aside for meetings by Carmine Falcone himself, a small delegation of Japanese, sit across from a politician in a suit. The Japanese are all businessmen, hardly Yakuza, along with the fixer, the black curtain, wearing a slim black suit with a purple necktie, his hair slicked backwards over his head and lined with white, a pair of austere glasses over his eyes, a mild prescription from age. The politician, meanwhile, wears an expensive but standard and interchangeable suit, with the blue tie that is so played out, and a starched shirt. The security is provided by Carmine Falcone and the Sicilian Mafia, as per the agreement.

On the first floor, at a restaurant where elegant but non-descript Oriental music plays, a door is kicked down, and Turtle steps out, with a shotgun in hand. Three men step out behind him, all of them wearing black dockworker's outfits and black masks, each with a submachine gun, Russian in make. Turtle laughs, firing his gun at a nearby diner, blowing them off their feet and sideways across the dining area and away from their table and chair. People shriek and scream, as a rush breaks out in the restaurant, Sicilian Mafia security rushing in a panic to get out their pistols to counter the incursion.

"Hey, assholes! Did you know that sushi contains mercury? Maybe that's why I'm crazy!"

Meanwhile, room service trundles past the door that ordered it, an assassin dressed as a butler heading for the lounge where the business meeting is occuring. Outside, a man on a roof, across from the building, watching the meeting, sets up a mortar, listening to a walkie talkie for police bands.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
In the corner of the top floor stands a short looking man with a white mask though he is still hard to see even then. The white mask has a scowl on it, and the person with it seems to be wearing League of Assassin garb, and weapons. Damian had been undercover as a League member when he was approached by the visiting Yakuza it seemed they didn't trust the person they were coming to meet her so wanted to have him watch over the meeting to make sure nothing kicked off. It gave Damian a chance to keep the peace so to say, and gain some very good information that he could later distribute to the Capes to shut down everyone involved.

He stood in the corner of the room covered in shadows watching the group talk about things that just made him want to cut them all down now, but he waited pateintly listening to and recording every word they said. As the gun shots go off downstairs he swears to himself looking around to see if anyone else noticed. Whatever this is was messing up his whole operation here he thought pushing himself quietly off the wall he walked to the door trying to stay clear of open sight through a window just incase, and with a hand on his sword. He doesn't draw his weapon though as there is obviously no-one here yet.

Damian was on guard though for himself, the good advice he could of given the criminals he keeps to himself so if they feel like doing something stupid like running to the window he fully intentended to let them. He couldn't kill them, but if they died because of their own stupidity it could not be traced back to him. Behind the mask he smiled as he heard the cart coming tilting his sword forward for a faster draw, as whoever was unlucky enough to come through first would not make it. He did also plan to stand behind one of the larger beams incase they just decided to shoot in as well.

Spoiler has posed:
The view from the Third Gotham Bank and Trust is not a particular spectacular one. The building isn't nearly as tall as others in the area. Yet Spoiler has sat crouched on the corner of the roof for long enough that one could be forgiven for mistaking her for a gargoyle. Her memory of events there continued to play out in her mind even as Spoiler shifted her body about, testing herself for the umpteenth time and confirming the last of her injuries were healed, or barely even noticeable.

"I'll give him that, the stuff worked," Spoiler said of the League of Assassin brand healing teas and poultices given to her by Damian. "Though I swear he added something to the rub to give it that extra-special smell," she quips. A shake down patrol had proven her body was up to the task, so tonight was her first solo patrol back on active status.

Spoiler finally rises, about to shoot her grapple off to reel herself up to a taller building when a familiar butler's voice comes over the secure comms. "Miss. There is gunfire at Banglere Hotel, next to the Meldoff Building. I am still acquiring video, but there is fresh intel the place has connections to the Falcone family."

The bat-grapple is already wizzing away as Spoiler replies, "Spoiler on the way!" She jumps out into space, feeling the thrill as she uses the taller building to swing like Spider-Man before launching another grapple to reel her in at high speed towards a taller, distant building. "I believe I can fly..." she sings to herself as she whizzes through the air, cape flowing behind her.

It was good to be back.

Turtle has posed:
One of the Japanese business men leans down to the Yakuza, whispering in his ear, as he frowns. He then looks to the politician.

"Senator Breiss, there appears to be an incident downstairs. I have retained the services of a distinguished gentleman, to ensure our safety." He gestures, to Damian, as Damian slips out of the lounge.


Outside, in the hallway, is the assassin, in the butler outfit with the cart. He pauses, before he reaches the door to the meeting hall, and carefully removes his chef's hat. He reaches around, into the finely chromed cart, pulling a briefcase out and setting it on the top. He opens it, black and slim and matte smooth, producing a repeating pistol, and attaching a stock, before he swivels on the barrel, and then slapping a magazine into the butt with a ratcheting click.

With odd reverance, he closes the briefcase with his gloved left hand, the machine pistol mounted against his shoulder and pointed upwards.

As Sicilian gangster rush into the dining hall, pistols up in their hands drawing down on Turtle and his three men, people shout and shriek and scatter in all directions in the confusion. Turtle's three dirty south gangsters spread out and begin firing at the Sicilian mobsters, exchanging pistol rounds with them as Turtle laughs, his fat skull and jabbering, slovenly lips shaking as he fires bursts of his automatic shotgun at the incoming gangsters.

The people caught in the crossfire splatter with blood and bone, as Sicilian gangsters fly off their feet and go running, the four southern criminals slowly advancing through the restaurant. The three men with submachine guns use tables as cover, while Turtle merely marches forward, the occasional round slamming into his kevlar shell armor and pumping him backwards a shifting step.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian leaves them to it as he walks right into another assassin getting ready to shoot inside the place. He doesn't even pause moving forward he draws his sword moving it quickly, trying not to waste a single motion his goal is to cut off the mans hand that is currently holding the gun. If successfull the man would have at least a few minutes before he died of blood loss, and Damian just patiently took off the table cloth ignoring the yells waiting for him to pass out from blood loss, before wrapping up the arm to stop the flow.

Glancing back at the room he sighed to himself, that was way too easy and he had obviously heard more gun shots down stairs he thinks to himself while wipping off the blade looking down at the possibly disarmed thug. Not locals either from what it seemed like so they had brought their troubles with them Damian realizes with a sigh to himself. Right now he gave the people in the room a fourty percent chance of making it out alive, and depending on the numbers down stairs it might go down. That was irrelevent though as he would drag the unconsious individual to start heading towards the stairs to head down to the next floor. He would roll their friend down them to let them know where the line in the sand was drawn so to speak when they came up here, and then backs away again as he worked better in shadows. Let them walk into his trap, or at least spring theirs before he acted too quickly.

He had no idea Spoiler was coming, as he had no contact with them being on his own undercover, and so acted like he would if he were alone, intimidation, violence, and shadows is what he would use to defend himself against this group.

Spoiler has posed:
The urge to just go swinging into the building was great, but Spoiler pauses on a tall building in sight of the hotel. Her costume lacks the built in optics of the Bats. And actually her mask tonight just covers her nose and down, leaving her blue eyes revealed. But the new utility belt included high quality binoculars which she pulls out to study the area quickly.

The binoculars swing about the area, and only barely does she spot the man on the other roof. "Since when did military mortars become normal roof equipment?" she says. She's higher up, and the mortar is on a building between her and the hotel, but offset to the left a bit.

The binoculars are put away and Spoiler launches a grapple that wizzes quietly, well above the man's head, to attach to a distant building. With the man looking down, he will be hard pressed to see the line, or Spoiler as she slides down the line until she's above him. She drops off the line, going for a silent knockdown on him, a knee to the back to drive him head first into the rooftop.

Turtle has posed:
The assassin butler shrieks as his hand is cut off and he's sent staggering against the wall, his face going rictus as the experienced hitter (but not by Gotham standards) slumps downwards, his leg kicking out straight as he nods off from blood loss. He's dragged, after his arm is tied off, and goes flopping down the stairs, floor after floor, until he's dumped out at the first floor, the lobby beyond. In the lobby, Sicilians in frumpy suits are gearing up with semiautomatic pistols, shotguns, and assault rifles, led by a man with a bumpy, squat nose, and a huge belly, with a pompadour and an aged face. He adjusts his sunglasses, waving his arm about like a little general, rallying his soldiers before they attempt to retake the dining hall.

Turtle and his three men have wiped out the resistance in the restaurant, by now, Sicilian gangsters moaning and groaning, laying about the area, bleeding and shot, some dragging themselves away, others sobbing and holding their wounds. There's diners, strewn across the bloody white tableclothes, chairs knocked over and tables blasted apart. Food is everywhere, wine and drink and soda splashed about the paisley carpet. There are huddled shivers from dozens of patrons that were enjoying their lunch, hiding in the blasted battlefield.

The vague Oriental music plays over the scene, eerie.

The man with the mortar looks up after a shadow passes over him, confused, before Spoiler falls down on him. He grunts, and goes limp, a former infantryman and combat trained. He places his palms on the roof, playing dead for a few moments, before he does a hard one-handed pushup back up and flips around with his shoulders, a knife in his hand swiping at Spoiler.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian was from Gotham so he knew what happened when you went into a building and started shooting people. The clock was now ticking, and he did not want to get cought by a cape so thought about his options at the top of the stairs looking down to the main floor. There were a lot of them, and it would take him time to pick them off as they went upstairs, though he smiles to himself for a moment. From up the stairs is a deep gravel voice that speaks with the assurance of someone who has been in a simular situation before. "This meeting is protected by the LoA.. Turn around now, and still be able to walk away"

This is followed by nothing by silence as the boy now moves though not down stairs, he moves away from them with a purpose in mind. He had to get to the back stairs to where the power was quickly, as if he cut the juice they had to take the stairs. No light, no nothing they would never make it to the top floor before he got to them.

The body, and the words now become a distraction as well as hopefully some intimidation as he hoped it might slow them down long enough for him to get to the power, and back in time. The recorder he had left in the room to record the meeting was on its own power source so he didn't need to worry about that if they continued talking up there. He personally didn't have time to worry as he sprinted full speed towards his goal!

Spoiler has posed:
Spoiler rises back to her feet after the takedown, eyes going to the box of mortar rounds assuing they are not at risk of going off. Though short of seeing a burning fuse on one, or maybe something spinning? "I really have no idea," she voices the thought aloud.

Just as the man who is playing opossum picks that moment to attack. Spoiler sees the movement and the slicing motion just in time to throw her midsection back. The knife cuts across the outside of her costume, but fails to penetrate the body armor beneath.

Too busy to express her blessing on Babs for the aforementioned armor, Stephanie engages in melee with the man. Punches are thrown and blocked. She moves inside a slashing attack, getting her arm in the way to block. The man lunges at her again, this time stabbing straight ahead.

The acrobatic vigilante pivots and sweeps her cape around the knife hand, wrapping the cape upwards to make use of the knife difficult, and then flinging the cape over his face. Spoiler jumps up, straddling his chest and slamming her elbow down into his head repeatedly as he caves over backwards.

Breathing hard, Spoiler secures his wrists and ankles with ties from her utility belt, then quickly searches him for more knives or other worrisome gear. She drags him to a thick antennae that looks like it would be too sturdy for a person to break, and uses two more ties to secure him to it.

"Mortar on adjacent rooftop elimiated," Spoiler says, checking the other roofs for other sides of military ordinance. Finding none, she says, "Heading into the restaurant. Lots of gunfire in there," as she moves to the rooftop edge.

Turtle has posed:
"Hey, you get those guys under a hat, we'll get these guys on top of a shoe!" the large mobster with the sunglasses shouts to Damian, before he moves back up the stairs and away from the lobby.

Turtle looks left and right to his three men. "So, guys," he snickers, as they look around, loading up their submachine guns and flipping tables into cover, moving around the expansive restaurant, chandeliers twinkling from above. "What do you think of these Falcones? Batman doesn't run an operation like the Flash, but you have to respect his selective prosectuion."

Then, there's a thrumming of gunfire, as the Sicilian mobsters raid into the open double doors to the restaurant, rushing at Turtle and his men with a barrage of bullets. Wood splinters, drywall fractures, and fishtanks explode in showers of water and glass, as Turtle bellow laughs and swings around his shotgun at his hip. He fires off a blast, catching a soldier with an assault rifle across the shoulder. Turtle's victim whips to the side and kicks his legs up, hitting the ground, but another thug replaces him, pumping a burst into Turtle's chest. Turtle pulls aside, nearly taking a headshot, as he feels the thick, hard bullets slamming into his shell armor, grunting in shock and pain as his head pumps and thrums with blood.

Turtle shouts, "COME ON, LET'S KICK THIS PARTY UP!"

The three men with submachine guns fire a heavy volley, as Turtle drops to a knee, sluggishly, behind a table, checking his chamber and seeing how many shells he has left. The fire makes twangs and bangs and ricochets between either side of the restaurant, as the Sicilians spread out and slowly advance, while Turtle and his men fall back, slowly, from table to table, firing bursts. One of Turtle's men takes a round into the stomach, and folds over, screaming and falling onto his butt, then his back, firing his semiautomatic at the ceiling. A chandelier sparks, before falling to the ground, smashing loudly and obstrusely.

Turtle turns about and goes heffing away, rounds bouncing off the thick back of his shell, punching him over and over again, as his two remaining men follow. Another is cut down, his legs kicked out by a shotgun blast from the charging and enraged Sicilians.

Turtle spins around and fires one final burst of shotgun blast at the Sicilians, blasting apart a table that a gunman is hiding behind, narrowly missing him.

The leader of the mobsters, with the pistol, aims carefully, and shoots at Turtle, several times, slowly walking as he fires. Turtle spins about, gunshots trailing behind him. The Turtle follows his remaining man into the kitchen, and out of the restaurant, the way they came.

"Clear!" a soldato shouts, and there are sighs of relief, as the fat mobster puts his pistol down on the table, dabbing sweat from his forehead with a silk hankerchief from a table.

"Well, that was fucked up," the underboss admits, looking at his nodding men.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
Damian reaches the power as he hears the gun shots, and holds waiting for a little bit for it to stop as it must mean the resistance from the locals have encountered whoever was coming in. He wasn't sure what the man ment by his wierd comment, but thought about it as he let the two fight it out a bit before he went ahead with the power. As far as he was concerned it was a self correcting issue so held just a moment longer pulling the lever when Turtle and his group are already leaving, maybe even helping their cover to escape. A dark gravel voice says.. "Oops".

He turns and starts heading back to the main area where all the shooting went through, and see who won or at least who was left after that mess now the lights are off he feels more confortable. Of course there is no-way they could find out it was him, and it was still a good idea to isolate those above from all of this while he gathered his information. Quietly he approached the room again entering it without the others, that knew why he was there, even knowing he was in the same room as they stumbled around in the dark.

That is where he stood looking over the chaos that was distributed into this room, and shakes his head at it. Barbarians the lot of them he thought to himself as this was so messy, and obvious that whoever that was best leave Gotham quickly, or he is bound to have a Bat isse.

Spoiler has posed:
The only light comes from the door, and through a few windows which are covered over with advertisements that block a fair amount of the light. Damian is probably the only one in the room quick enough to react to that briefest flash of some shadow darkening one of the windows, before it blows in.

Spoiler's grapple right above the window delivered her down the line to it, the acrobat swinging her legs flip herself through the window, arcing through the darkened space near ceiling level. Her hands distribute smoke bombs and short range flash grenades, making the already darkened restaurant seem a storm cloud, the grenade flashes like lightning.

There is a familiar sounding metallic click as baton segments are joined to form a staff of Red Robin's design. The metallic clang of that bo staff striking men's heads joins the stormy illusion as heavy metal thunder.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
As she enters the room everything goes just as planned for her as she was well trained for this, she hits a few people blinded by her flash bank or lost in smoke. The others are charging in torwards he like they usually do as henchmen might be strong, but they are not bright. She is just knocking them down in a blur of action, and violence the whole time Damian just stands in the shadows as he knew well what was going on heck he might of chosen a different window, but it was close enough to correct that he would pass.

This all changes when one word from a deep gravel voice comes across loudly through the whole room.. "Enough!" is all he says though most that were going into attack her have stopped backing up, rubbing their eyes. One man walks forward still, and from where the small person can now be seen after he shouted moving forward there is a perfect arc as a blade comes out of its scabbard. The man moving forward falls and yells grabbing the back of his foot. Over the sounds of the man yelling in pain the voice speaks again, "It is already too late... Start Evacuations." in a calm voice, and those who can start running away from Steph. She was crazy out numbered, and though she knew how to handle herself that they are giving up facing only her alone, maybe her Rep has improved?

As the others are running the person in the white mask looks at her quietly waiting for the others to flee. He doesn't move or change what he is looking at her only staring at her in the dark quietly.

Spoiler has posed:
The sight of the dead and wounded is a mix of mafiosos and civilians. It hardens Spoiler's expression behind her mask, watching as a woman with a gunwound to the leg tries to crawl for the door now the gunfire seems to have stopped.

Spoiler eyes the masked figure's sword first, before turning her gaze to the short man himself who stopped the fight and has sent the armed men evacuating. She watches them departing, using the cover they thing Damian provides, putting him between the masked vigilante and themselves as they rush to leave through the kitchen.

Saving the wounded civilians is the priority, especially as Spoiler is not sure who was responsible for what here. She stares down the figure in the white mask as the smoke from her grenades wafts past them both, starting to defuse out the broken window. But she doesn't attack, giving him the chance to leave so she can tend to the wounded.

Robin (Wayne) has posed:
The figure doesn't move for a while he just stares at her as the others run also not attacking he waits till they are out or are at least not here before he finally acts, though even then it isn't to attack her. The figure mearly nods to her saying nothing as he goes over his own goals in his head. He had already done his part, and had the information on the meeting even helping Falcon keep a few of his guys out of jail a few nights to help sell his cover a bit more.

The figure holds up a hand turning it as he makes a fist, almost like magic though it was slight of hand with a bit of distraction when he turns his hand it has a ball it it. Opening his hand he lets it fall to the floor the dark smoke spreading around him now as well. He didn't need it for long to make his escape though, and leave Steph to this as it was a mess. He didn't really want to fight her for no reason, and had been in a situation where he didn't have to. Besides even he would feel something if he visted her for an after action report for an incident where he was the one who hurt her... Maybe... this time.

Spoiler has posed:
Spoiler watches the small figure depart. Not being able to bring everyone of them to justice galled her, but she wasn't going to let lives be lost over it. She quickly cuffs the men she's downed before turning to the wounded.

The sound of sirens drawing near soon fills the air. The first to rush in are police with weapons pointing, but a few of guns lift as they spot the caped vigilante and the zip-tied figures, the former tying bandages from her utility belt about a wounded child.

Some of the police look back and forth, and a few shrugs are given. "Spoiler," one of the more informed cops informs the others. The masked girl gives a soft sigh at the lack of recognition. "There's a guy tied up, with his mortar on top of the Mutual Insurance building," she says as she walks over to the window as the paramedics start coming in, joining cops in delivering first aid.

She swings a device up onto her grapple line that had delivered her here, and it whisks her away, climbing back up the line and leaving the police to see to the rest.