Runaways Crossing Paths
Roleplaying Log: Runaways Crossing Paths
IC Details

New Batgirl trying out the early morning, finds Red Hood playing a similar game

Other Characters Referenced: oracle batman
IC Date: November 23, 2019
IC Location: Gotham Rail Station
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 23 Nov 2019 18:12
Rating & Warnings: PG-13 for Violence
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits:
Associated Plots

* * *

"Alright, youse mooks. Let's jus' make this quick an' easy. The train comes, we hops on, we snatch everything we can, we hops off. Like takin' candy from babies, yeah?"

The pretentious asshole standing in front of about two dozen gang members rocking vests and carrying ruffian styled melee weaponry is the one they call Sweet Tooth. They probably call him that because all of his teeth are silver and gold except one. He's still got one that's original. He waves his Blow Pop in the direction of a couple of his legion members.

"Fiddle, Faddle? You two watch the gates. We don't want no stinkin' surprises while we doin' our thing."

Fiddle and Faddle salute and head over in that direction.

"Li'l Debbie? You're with me. We're gonna' hit the booth."

Li'l Debbie, who happens to be about 6'5" and all muscle, finishes tying her pigtails in and straightens out the brass knuckles on both of her fists.

"And try not to kill anybody, huh? We don't need that kinda' heat comin' down on us." Sweet Tooth grins.

"We got two minutes before the train rolls in. Any questions?"

* * *

Be out there. Be seen. Be seen? That just feels wrong. But be seen is what was needed. Keep up the fight. Just having been along for a couple of the nightly ventures, Cassandra picked up on what the Batgirl meant to be, and what was needed from Cassandra. Armour is too large, but she fixed that. Mostly. It will still do its job, prevent another incident of having a high-caliber rifle round punch through her and miss vitals miraculously. A shot like that might just be diverted harmlessly, or a really good one will actually hit something she can't walk away from.
The gang she spotted as they converged and moved into position and armed themselves. Cassandra knows they want to do something bothersome. Not entirely harmful, just greedy. She could use the workout, Batgirl's image could use the momentary exposure. As is tradition with the masked vigilantes that seem to flock to Gotham like the criminal element they hunt, she waits above, out of their sight, crouched and making herself less apparent to onlookers not able to discern a crouching caped human black shape from a fixture.

* * *

The Sweet Tooth Gang are in the middle of their chanting when the train rolls in. Of course, they are chanting something completely asinine like "Snack Attack!" and raising their weapons in the air. They each pull up their bandana masks to hide their identity, the logo on the front of those masks appearing to be signature Sweet Tooth smile. Gangs have to be identifiable, okay?

The train rolls in and comes to a complete stop. Except the doors don't open like they are supposed to. In fact, only one set of doors opens in the center of the car nearest the pile of Sweet Tooth Gang Members.

Stepping out of those doors is a man in a red helmet and a brown leather jacket. He claps his gloved hands sarcastically as he stands between the Sweet Tooth Gang and the train. He holds up his hands to show that he's unarmed… except for all the weapons strapped to his body in holsters and utility belts. But this holding up of his hands also signals the train car to move on ahead. Which just ticks off The Sweet Tooth Gang even more.

"Sorry, everyone. The snack bar's closed. But if you want, I can schedule you all for some much needed dental work." The red helmeted individual gets his quip out.

"…" Sweet Tooth glares. And then he points. "GET HIM!"

Cue the Sweetness Swarm.

* * *

Anticipation builds. It's hard to stay still for some reason. Cassandra adapts herself to it, rather than fighting against it to stay still. Train arrives. Everyone gets ready. She stands. Another mask steps out. She pauses for just long enough to get a visual of him, of what he wants, and involves herself with the fight that ensues. While she's moving, she could be mistaken for a tiny Batman with her all-black caped outfit. No face showing though. Naturally she makes her opening move on Lil Debbie, her small fist snaking in with a blow that does not care about the size of its mark. It renders humans unconscious from all walks of gym.
In the moment between when she starts moving again and standing from her dive from above, using Lil Debbie's shoulder to slow her fall just enough, on her feet, the visual is certainly something. Belts. Belts on her arms and legs, belts around her abdomen, all in the interest of keeping that armoured suit tight to her visibly muscular body. Functionally it works. Visually it's nothing anyone would want to be seen in.

* * *

Violence. Gotta' love it.

Red Hood hasn't actually brought out any of his guns at the moment. Instead, he's chosen to lay into various mooks swarming at him with his fists and his boots. Things crack and break, y'know body parts, as they fall moments after getting too close to him. He's in the middle of choking one of them out with their own chain when he catches sight of Bat-Belt's arrival and the crashing of Mount Debbie behind her.

"… You're new." comes the roboticized voice from the red helmet as he finishes choking the Sweet Tooth thug out and turns towards the arriving vigilante a bit more. "Or quite possibly the worst copycat I've ever seen. Jury's still out." A throat punch chokes up another thug without even a look in their direction.

* * *

The strange thing about a gang is how they believe that there is strength in numbers. They can overwhelm someone just because it's not a one-on-one fight. They experience that euphoric feeling from victory when they take on relatively defenseless victims and exercise the sort of power one feels with dominance.
Today the gang is outclassed by half of the two they have the unfortunate timing of meeting, and only one is trying to figure out how she's going to do what she does exactly. Baseball bat swings in, the girl-bat ducks and prevents the sort of story one describes to their friends later as irony. Her response is a punch again, upper arm, just inside below the shoulder and the man's right arm stops obeying, falling limp, dropping the bat. The chain-wrapped fist that comes her way doesn't fare much better, and she makes it seem a bit like a choreographed dance. A third has a longer chain with a blade-laden ball at the end, but she's clumsy with it. She watched a particular movie scene too often and practiced, but never actually tried hitting anyone with it. This is her moment to shine! Unfortunately she's meeting the concrete ground in a similar fate to Lil Debbie. Cassandra-Batgirl sees she put a lot of work into making that flail dangerous, and treats her like a true threat as a result. The numbed arms aren't done though, they go in with the still working ones, adapting with their weapons. Then a leg stops working and their ability to meaningfully participate ends.
The belt-bat moves fast, but she's playing with the thugs. Her eyes, barely visible past the lenses of her helmet, show she's calm and in control. She's making sure they see her. Other than Lil Debbie of course. She'll have to rely on the later accounts of varying exaggeration from her comrades.

* * *

Red Hood is standing to the side with an arm around Sweet Tooth. He's put some hurting on the leader and it seems like he might be holding him up more than anything. "Are you seeing this? She's like a swan. A really, really violent swan." Red Hood yanks the head of Sweet Tooth up but there's just blood and pain on his face. "Her costume could use some work but otherwise… it looks like Dear Ol' Dad has found another replacement for me. I dunno if I should be proud or insulted that he needs so many." Red Hood shrugs and doesn't get a response from Sweet Tooth.

"Ah well." Finally, Red Hood pulls out one of his guns and puts it against Sweet Tooth's head. He cocks it nice and loud, as if trying to get the new Bat Brat's attention. Especially, y'know, since she's made short work of the gang swarm.

Time to see where this one's head is at.

* * *

Gun's out, big show of scary, pointed at the head of the leader. It's a test. Not a test Cassandra likes very much. He's asking her a question. She answers, maybe not in the way he expects. Thrown batarang, but not aimed at Jason. Aimed at Sweet Tooth, removing him from consciousness. Eliminating the only witness to what is going to happen next. She moves fast again, pushing herself just a little to flow faster than most could even follow, at Jason in the same instant that Sweet Tooth loses consciousness.
She takes the gun by the barrel, moves it to her own head, holding it there. Her answer to the question. What would she do? Whatever she must. She's not calm now at least. Not in control. She is ready.

* * *


Red Hood can't really show emotion with an expressionless helmet on. Instead, he just takes a step back and raises the gun up and away from the Bat Brat's head. "So you're the suicidal one. Got it. Been there." The gun gets put away into one of the holsters on his body. "So what happened? They couldn't afford to get you your own suit?" Red Hood shrugs and motions at the Belt Bat outfit as he puts some more space between himself and this new Bat Brat.

* * *

As the girl-bat moves to check on the ones Jason made short work of, not seeming particularly inclined to answer more of the questions, she looks up at him again, staring. She also has a question. Hers is less in the moment. The batarang that hit Sweet Tooth and lays on the ground beside him, she tosses toward Jason. It's not on a straight flight path, rather a high arc. She suspects strongly he can catch it even if she throw it hard at him. He's obviously well trained.
It's what he does with it that she's curious to see. How he interacts with it. Something about how he looks at her makes her wonder that.

* * *

Catching Batarangs is like riding a bike. It's caught and sent sailing right back in the Belt Bat's direction in one motion. It's all about the wrist. Its thrown in a style that's a forced modification of one of the styles of throwing that was taught to him by the Batman. A forced change in the release to show just how much he doesn't want to continue to be a bat.

"You realize that conversations work better when you're not trying to show epic levels of brood. Like him." Red Hood almost shudders at that thought. Brooding like Batman. Gross.

* * *

Her catch, different too. She knows where it's going the instant Jason flicks his wrist. But she sees what he wanted to say. She sees more too. Disgust? Betrayal? Those are two things she is distinctly familiar with in regards to one's teacher. The teacher Jason thinks they share. She's up close again, approaching instead of flowing. She's dipping into a holster to extract a gun. One not easily reached under most circumstances. A well-concealed one, fastened to prevent telltale bulge. She has it in hand, and she grips it naturally with her left hand, casually aiming it without needing to look down the iron sights. A kill shot, just as she had been trained to do. She flicks the safety on though instead of pulling the trigger, flips the gun around and offers it back. She's wearing that calm again, the controlled look. It wasn't an intimidation move.

* * *

Red Hood has no idea how he's understanding this person but he is. Kind of. Maybe it's because he too has been trained to be an assassin. Y'know, after he was brought back to life and all. It's a complicated story. One that he doesn't necessarily feel like getting into. He's sure this Bat Brat can pick up on the 'there's more to this than is obvious'.

There's a tilt of the Red Hood's helmet as he takes the gun back and puts it away just as smoothly as it was removed. "Same." is offered as a way to try and lock in on the common ground of being a killer, maybe. "But only idiots like…" He motions towards the pile of gang members with a side of Sweet Tooth. "Y'know. Scum." Red Hood shrugs and wags a finger at the Batgirl(?)'s outfit.

"Don't let him short change you. He can get you something better than this to wear. He can afford it."

* * *

There's a rise of tension about that. The killing. Girl-bat steps to be between Jason and the idiots, arms wide. There is a distinct kind of determination about her posture. Trained killer, same no killing rule as so many of the knights. She knows he won't with this bunch. Not if they aren't very foolish. Her steps take her to a newspaper box, which she taps to show importance, then indicates herself with a thumb point. THen she moves up and out of sight.
The story featuring Barbara Gordon and Lincoln March being the victims of a sniper attack shows prominently, her picture and his side by side.

* * *

There's probably rolling of eyes that came from beneath that helmet. "I know, I know. You all would rather these idiots continue to breathe so they can hurt more innocent people. I've heard the spiel. It's bullshit." Red Hood even holds up his hands to prove he's not trying to make any moves. "I got no beef with you and those idiots would just be a waste of ammo. We're cool."

Red Hood moves to follow her over to the newspaper box and checks it out. There's a slight shoulder softening that happens when he checks out the paper. "Yeah. I heard." And then he's trying to shrug like he doesn't care but it's hard to do that when he does. "Shit happens." He looks up to see where the Girl of Bats moved to.

"I'll find the shooter. I'll take care of it. Shit like this calls for my kind of justice. Not your neutered kind."

* * *

Girl-bat's gone. With many of the masked bat-adjacents, one can often see where they've holed up and hidden to watch when they pretend to leave. That one didn't. She moved on, and a glimpse of her can be seen working a thrown swingline with a bit of rustiness. It's something she used to know how to do and hasn't tried to in a long time. She's getting the hang of it, but she's a bit clumsy still, and what would be a careen into a wall turns into something manageable.

* * *

"… I hate it when they do that."

And with that said to nobody, Red Hood does the same thing. He's just gone. Besides, the crooked cops'll be here to clean up the candy gang mess here soon enough, right?

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