Gotham Through the Ages
Roleplaying Log: Gotham Through the Ages
IC Details

Ms. Angela Crane hosts a historical photography exhibit and it is attacked by a Talon.

Other Characters Referenced: Tim Drake, Dick Grayson
IC Date: August 02, 2019
IC Location: Monolith Art Gallery
OOC Notes & Details
Posted On: 03 Aug 2019 06:45
Rating & Warnings: PG-13
Scene Soundtrack: [* ]
NPC & GM Credits: Barbara Gordon as the Talon and other NPCs
Associated Plots

The "Gotham Through the Ages" exhibit at the Monolith Art Gallery opened just two hours ago in a fashion most uncommon for the likes of Gotham City. No fashionable galas, no requirement of suit jackets and fancy dresses, no hard-to-get invites. There's a simple cover charge at the door, plus optional donations that support a local artist fund simply called 'Unsanctioned.'

The gallery walls host a wide variety of photographs from 1828 to the Y2K New Years celebration. They are laid out chronologically, starting with a dour photograph of the 1829 City Council — six men and one woman standing grim and austere at the steps of 'Gotham City Hall.' An eye for collages is responsible for the exhibit and photographs are either grouped or displayed solo based on the importance of each photograph.

Standing near the door is the tall and graceful Mrs. Crane — no relation to the well-known Dr. Crane of Arkham, or at least no claimed relation. She's sipping from a champagne flute that has a bubbly crimson liquid half-drained while she listens with some tight amusement to the rather rotund gentleman in a well-fitting suit and wisps of white hair clouding his otherwise bald head.

* * *

If anyone asks her, Karen Starr arrived in Gotham two days ago. It is mere coincidence that eight seconds ago, an ATC registered something approaching the city at a frankly ridiculous multiple of the speed of sound, which to them looked like a computer error. After all, seeing as nothing exploded immediately after, it can't have been a real object.

The first person Karen speaks to, of course, is the doorman. To whom she hands an overly-thick trenchcoat in this incredible, slightly-washed out salmon-pink color. However, sadly, while that particular eyesore is placed in between two more fashionable coats in higher standing, the person whose shoulders it just left is…

There's an entire pant-suit made of it. The material is just slightly thicker, somewhere south of corduroy. Not as rough looking. (A plus.) Still salmon pink. The whole thing. The blouse beneath is this almost-pleasant cream color, sure, but the rest is just. To those who have an eye for fashion, it is akin to someone trying to poke that out. Decidedly unflattering, her plain figure just makes it all the more of an eyesore.

Idly, the blonde adjusts the thick, amber plastic rims of her glasses, as she makes her way to each of the pieces around the room. Some are certainly using this as a social gathering rather than an art gallery. Karen will, probably, do both.

* * *

Formal or not, fancy or otherwise, Trish Walker isn't one to say no to an art exhibit opening. Even if she has to travel to Gotham for it. A trip she seems to be making more and more of these days, although her primary excuse is, of course, Lincoln March, the up and comer in Gotham's mayoral race. He has her all curious and interested in the politics of Gotham. But that's, perhaps, a story for another time.

Tonight, art. Historic photos. Dressed in a black pants, a black sleeves top, and shiny black pointed toe pumps, she has a medium handbag hung over her shoulder. When she enters the gallery, she digs through the handbag to pull out her wallet and pay the entrance fee. As she pulls out her wallet, the rounded portion of what might be a paper plate sticks out her handbag, which she doesn't notice until she goes to put her wallet back. Shoving the paper-something back in, she smiles and proceeds further into the gallery, flicking some hair over her shoulder.

Slowly the blonde radio talk show host, also known for a certain TV show role and a particular song, starts at the beginning of the exhibit, looking at the oldest of the photos with a seeming intense curiosity. She tilts her head slightly at the picture of the 1829 city council.

* * *

In some ways, it was pretty reassuring to an immortal to remind herself of things that existed before her. She was here, wrapped in her own dark-blue dress and with a blue ribbon tied into her hair to keep it pinned back in an elegant bun. With her own champagne flute in her hands, the French woman tilts her head to the side as she regards the photographs, but her walking path along comes to a pause at the 1940's. Wartime Gotham apparently captured her attention quite a bit.

Even so, her gaze comes to glance over her shoulder at the new arrivals. It was hard to miss Karen from stature alone, but Trish was a face she knew too.

* * *

Hey, just because something isn't a fancy gala (for once!), that doesn't mean you can't dress up if you want to! And when making appearances as Kory Anders, famous supermodel, it's rarely the case that the exile alien princess doesn't show up bearing the work of one designer or another. It's as much a part of her job as anything. This time around, absent the full gala treatment, she ditches the elaborate gowns for a colorful summer esnemble, with a pastel yellow chiffon belted peasant-style dress with some intricate floral details. Prints are back in, didn't you know? So she hardly looks out of place. Well, to the casual observer.

To those who work the Gotham social circuit, there is something DECIDEDLY missing in her appearance. It's just not an object of clothing!

But Kory acts as if all is right and wonderful in the world, making her way past whatever people outside and into the exhibit with only one very brief and annoying inquiry from a reporter. She pretends she didn't hear anything about where her usual beau is. Usual who? Please! She is just here to look at some pictures, not hoping anyone else might be showing up at a high profile Gotham event. Nor is she supressing any Tamarenean warrior instinct to do mayhem him such a person possibly showed up with another date. AHEM.

"Oh, these are all wonderful," she declares as she arrives at the photos, near Karen, with clear purpose. SHE IS HERE FOR THE ART OK!? "Gotham city has such a very long history, doesn't it?" The other woman's fashion, of course, DOES draw her attention, as a fashion persona. But oddly: "Oh, that is such a wonderful color you are wearing!" Well, OK.

* * *

Mrs. Crane spots the two newcomers, and her smile tightens a moment as she politely begins to disengages from the elderly gentleman who does not seem all that disinclined to let her leave. She's making her apologies and her departure, only to attempt to adhere her attention on Trish and Karen. "Welcome, ladies, to Gotham Through the Ages. Would you care for a timeline map?" Out of nowhere it seems, she is offering both of them a little trifold that outlines the path to take through the gallery that starts at the 1829 photograph and onward.

When Amelia makes her own entrance, Mrs. Crane, too, offers her a polite and welcoming smile. That smile does include a sudden arching of brows at the sight of Starfire though, and she too is offered a map.

This is, also, about the time that a redhead makes her way around a corner. Barbara Gordon, in her cute mini-dress, leggings, and boots, is holding her own map and tugging up the strap of her messenger bag. She blinks when she recognizes first Kory and then Patsi Walker, and both are given surprised looks. "Kory?" It's dumb to ask if that's her, because it's Kory, but there you have it.

* * *

That someone could call her garb wonderful is strange- but that it comes from someone known to not be from this Earth, isn't. It can be a curious matter as to her response, though. How would a Metropolis Tech Mogul (which requires three capital letters) know much about the Gotham social circle? At the same time, Karen, for lack of a better word, is going to do her best to be as tactless as her stereotype would be.

"Oh, you're Kory Anders, right? The model?" How could anyone -not- immediately know, of course, but Karen pretends to need to recognize for the sake of Tradition. "Shouldn't you be here with uh, what's his name," she begins, snapping her fingers for a moment and looking away, as if somehow she is having trouble remembering SOMEONE'S name.

Then, a voice! "Ah, Barbara Gordon!" Karen is impossible not to recognize from the one time the two have met, considering the absolutely horrid fashion sense, but whether or not Babs actually -wants- to recognize her. That's the question.

* * *

When her attention is finally drawn away from the city council picture, Trish takes a moment to really look around. Of course, Amelie gets a longer look than most. She is remembered, but who could forget a woman with a French accent in the streets of Hell's Kitchen? If she catches the immortal woman's eye, she'll give her a nod of acknowledgement.

Kory's entrance, however, is an attention drawer, however, if there ever was one. Was Trish ever this exuberant when she was young, known for being a star? Probably, even if she'd never admit it. She did like being the center of the party, though.

"Oh." She smiles at Mrs. Crane. "A timeline map. How lovely. Yes, please. Thank you. That's very kind of you."

She does a double take upon taking the map and hearing Kory say that Karen's outfit is a wonderful colour and she just…well, she says nothing. It's not her place. "Kory Anders?" She speaks up. "Oh my word, it is, isn't it?" She smiles widely.

Looking to Karen, she tilts her head. "Ms. Starr, Karen Starr, right? We were both at Lincoln March's fundraising event last month?" She asks of the woman, still not quite over the colour of the clothing.

There's some curiosity at the mention of the name 'Barbara Gordon'. Relation to Gotham police chief Gordon? Could be coincidence. Maybe it's just that common of a name around here. But it doesn't stop the radio talk show host from wondering.

* * *

Well, Starfire was indeed striking enough that Amelie could pick her from a crowd without superhuman senses. Not having quite the same knowledge of the others, Amelie drifts closer with her glass in hand and manages to pick on the edges of the introductions. She'd not met either Karen or Kory before, but she'd seen the later's image elsewhere. The redhead who arrives in the mini-dress? She draws her eyes in a slightly different way, but that surname?

Well…what kind of professional killer wouldn't know the Police Comissioner of the town she was operating in? How interesting…

* * *

"Oh yes, thank you, that would be most appreciated." Kory is never one to turn down a kind offer from a nice lady at an art show, particularly when she is doing her best to focus and try and be invested in said art and not think any stray unpleasant thoughts. A map! Yes! Let us read the map and follow the line!

Barbara's greeting, though, cuts into her nice orderly map related plannings. She looks over, half expecting… nope!

"Barbara! It is wonderful to see you." Alone. She does a quick double check of the vicinity. Alone! "It has been quite some time, has it not? But of course, I am not surprised to see some familiar faces here. Hmm. So this exhibit, it is probably something you know a great deal more about, than just the pictures? I admit I can only really appreciate them for all the lovely old architecture."

For the moment, she is managing to feel placid about the whole thing, until her newfound nearby acquaintance with the impressive color palette becomes the second person to ask her if she's who she is. "Yes that's right," she replies easily. That part never bothers her. It's the question after that. "-Should- I?" she wonders with a sudden and perhaps uncharacteristic edge to her tone. "Do you mean to imply that I should not be enjoying this event commemorating the long and storied history of this ancient and fascinating history on my own? Surely the subject is worthy on its own merit!"

Yeah OK she is a little peevish on this whole topic.

"I mean… I do not know what you are talking about." Ahem. "Barbara, I am going to follow the map. Would you like to go also?" Trish, however, becomes 'ask the obvious' person #3. Maybe now it is getting a little old. Although still, she's greeted with a smile. "Yes that's right, hello, it's nice to meet you both." At least she seems to know Karen too.

* * *

"Karen! Hi." Barbara is stepping up toward the small cluster of women, slipping her timeline map into the pocket of her messenger bag. She's smiling at first the tech mogul herself, and then back to Kory. "Kory, I haven't seen you since — " A bit of awkwardness settles in then. "Since, a… while ago." She winces visibly with a sheepish, apologetic smile. At least both women are back to being in the Ex-Girlfriends of Dick Grayson Club. When Kory does a check around, she looks even more apologetic.

She is turning toward Trish Waller, and her smile brightens a bit more. "You're Trish Walker? Trish Talk?" She offers out her hand. "Barbara Gordon."

While the four women are greeting each other, Amelia is given a chance to take notice of something that the others may miss in their socializing. There's a man who has just entered the gallery in a long trench coat combined with a zip-hoodie underneath. The hood is up, and his chin is down. He slipped through without paying the cover charge, but no one at the desk seemed to have noticed what with managing the party of six all crowding around her. He's walking with a slow and purposeful stride right past all the photographs, barely glancing up.

* * *

Karen's hand idly grasps the offered map for a moment before she reaches up to her glasses, adjusting them for a moment. She'll -say-, of course, "There we go, saved for easy reference!" The implication being that her glasses are more than they appear. (They are not.) Her memory, though, is… Acute. Depressingly so, to those who forget things every now and then, but at least Karen Starr doesn't -appear- to get all of the other benefits that, say, Power Girl has.

Then, her attention is back on Kory. "I mean, no and yes? It's more of a comment, you know. That what'sisface is usually where you are." She, clearly, still can't remember his name. Karen is laying on the oblivious pretty thick, for sure. It helps that the stereotype lends itself heavily to that. Clearing her throat, though, she makes her way over to Barbara and reaches to shake the other woman's hand, as if she for some reason needed to. "Great to see you again. Figured I'd spend some more time in Gotham. After the Gala, I'm thinking of setting up a local office for Starrware." Is now the time? With (though Karen is definitely not someone who would know, so it can be excused) the enemy? Well, regardless, she brought it up.

After the handshake, Trish gets a smile. "Yeah. We met at the twenties thing. Good to see you!"

"Oh, yeah, we've gotta see the whole timeline. Sounds like we should start!" Semi-cheery, Karen is, on the inside, aware that ingratiating herself as if she were invited to Kory's walk down the timeline is… Well. Not the most accepted of things. But on the outside, she's still playing oblivious.

* * *

"Trish Walker." She introduces herself to Kory. "I'm…" No, what she does doesn't matter right now. "It's nice to meet you as well. I hope you have a pleasant evening." She knows what it's like to be in the spotlight, she's in it enough herself.

Oh, but there's someone else introducing themselves! Trish reaches out her hand to Barbara to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Gordon. You look…purrfectly familiar." Yes, she said 'perfectly' as a cat pun. "I'm feline like I've seen you somewhere before. Like we've met." That one was just plain obvious. "For some reason I'm thinking we met in some sort of…kitchen?" She smiles brightly. Her acting skills are definitely not on par at the moment. But nobody said she was great and laying down hints.

She smiles at Karen, nodding a little bit. "Yes, that's right! The twenties themed event. It was fun, I thought. It had been ages since I'd gone to anything twenties themed. But yes, good to see you too."

She looks around, glancing at the map in her hand. "So, Gotham through the ages, huh?"

* * *

The benefit of not getting into the introductions yet? Amelie's attention moves towards the man marching in. The french assassin shifts a little, her gaze flicking over the man and then a frown coming to her lips. Dressed like this, she was hardly heavily armed…but she wasn't completely harmless and helpless either.

Clearing her throat, the French assassin shifts to follow slightly, weaving among the crowd.

* * *

"/Richard/," and again, there's a bit of an edge, suggesting that even broken up, Kory is a little annoyed by someone calling Dick 'whatshisface.' "Richard and I are on a break. But I do not see why that is anyone's business nor that I should adjust my social calendar on his account, or avoid an entire city. Hmph." Which would be very reasonable if that were her actual thought process. Unfortunately, she is not one of the 'coldly logical' variety of alien.

She does look appreciative for Barbara's more tactful handling of the subject. And since the absent fellow has evidently not traded one redhead for the other (again), there is no reason to seek bloody vengeance and the two of them can indeed be sisters in common experience! "It is alright," she tells the other woman, after recomposing herself a little. "I am happy to simply enjoy this event in the company of friends." More than that, between Barbara's exclaimation and Trish's own introduction, she's finally able to put the voice to one of the other faces with them. So at least for once, the celebrity gushing is reversed!

"Oh! You are Trish of the Trish Talk! Your audio program is most wonderfully entertaining." Now, the golden-skinned woman beams quite radiantly, happy to be distracted and on other topics. "Yes! Gotham through the ages," she echoes. "Let us all go and experience the many times and pictures of this great city?" Only someone who'd never been more than a visitor in Gotham could be so radiantly enthusiastic about it.

* * *

Barbara looks up to Kory with an almost abashed smile. "I haven't seen him. I think he's avoiding Gotham, too." That said, she takes a breath, and hooks her messenger bag in front of her while she nods. "Apparently they're from someone's collection… but they wanted to stay anonymous. It's just on display for twelve weeks and then gone again for however long."

While Barbara is speaking to the group, the hooded man is stepping through the exhibit with purposeful strides that seem quick, but unhurried at the same time. He crosses toward the back of the exhibit where the last photos of the 1800s. He comes to a section of wall that features a collage of images all centered around the groundbreaking and start of construction on Wayne Tower.

From within his jacket, he pulls out a large photograph that he sticks into the middle of the collage. Maybe the rest of the photographs that spill out across the floor had been tucked under his arm, because as he steps back, they fan out across the floor. Others take notice, and someone gasps as they look down at a photograph that has fallen beside her foot.

* * *

Karen nods along with Star's statements about Dick. That's an open wound, but Karen actually takes a moment trying to think about whether she should continue the ruse as deep as it had been so far, as doing so might be ill-advised. Amongst the super crowd, identities don't really remain a secret for long. Karen is almost -counting- on Babs already knowing, or suspecting. The Frumpiness Insert that hides her… Unique figure is only -so- believable. She doesn't want to say anything in the act that she'll regret when the jig is up.

She doesn't get to ruminate on this long, as it is impossible for Karen not to notice some things. After all, at the moment, she is listening to no less than thirty different crimes happening across Gotham. She knows which members of the Bat-Family are patrolling tonight. She can hear them communicating. Part of the reason she's at something like this is to make sure that she can believe herself when she tells herself that they can handle it.

There are things that are just hard- after all, Karen notices, for certain, the man slap a photo into the gallery. What makes it difficult is that normal people don't respond by "adjusting" their glasses so that they can look -through- the trench coat into the usual weapon-hiding zones. She might not have to throw this man to the moon- she may be able to get away with warning the guards if he has a firearm of some kind.

* * *

"Oh yeah, yeah, that's me! Trish of Trish Talk! It's so great knowing that such an amazing person as yourself enjoys my show!" Trish offers to Kory with a wide smile. She honestly didn't know her audience was so wide ranging. She finds it's kinda of flattering that even as well known as Kory might enjoy her show.

Being more of a journalist and actor than someone who's accustomed to keeping their eyes open for the unexpected, she doesn't notice the man in the trenchcoat right away. In fact, it's not until there are gasps and a commotion that Trish even notices that there's anything strange at all. "What in the blue blazes and cats in mazes is going on?" She asks as people gasp.

* * *

Amelie didn't have Karen's X-ray vision. Her perception was ultra-sensitive, but she was still looking for the signs of straps or fastenings just faint beneath the clothing all the same. What she hadn't expected the man to draw was a photograph and make quite the scene with it. Babs and Starfire's conversation was missed, but those faintly amber eyes of Amelie's shift to the photograph while she adjusts her own stance just a little. A 'protest' wasn't going to be violent of itself, she wouldn't need to make a fuss, but if it were simply the start of something worse?

Even for her, retrieving the gun she'd hidden against her form under her dress wasn't going to be the quickest move.

* * *

"Yes, perhaps. He was taking his new job very seriously. That was one of our disagreements, in fact, with the amount of time he was spending under the covers." Er. As a police comissioner's daughter, no doubt Barbara can translate that one, but Kory has a real knack for getting things wrong in the most hilarious way. In any case, she seems more comfortable discussing the topic with Babs than generally. "And what about you? I know he mentioned back then that you were seeing someone, although I do not think we ever had a chance to all meet as I had wished."

Saving things from all being boy talk, her attention turns back to the photos. "From a personal collection? Their family would have had to have been in Gotham all this time then, yes? That is remarkable. How much they must love their home, to spend many generations chronicling it. And now they share that love with all of us!" That is her optimistic take, anyway. "I enjoy the current events commentary very much," she also explains to Trish. "I did not grow up around here so it is helpful to me, to listen!"

What happens next is no doubt of some surprise, although not any cause for immediate alarm on her part. She is a model, not some crime fighter! She does not leap to action over what might be the job for normal building security at an art gallery. "Oh, what's happening there? What are all those other photos? Are they extras?" She may even, in a similar way to Karen, go a little too far playing a clueless stereotype. There is a glance at Barbara also, for her reaction, and then while she doesn't 'leap' to action, she may take advantage of any gawking crowds to get a little closer and try and get a look - interested in the images as much as the man.

* * *

Karen adjusts her glasses, and things take an odd turn. There's a body in that trench coat and hoodie, and beneath it a body covered in what looks to be a head to toe suit of thick material, metal accents, and bladed weapons. When it turns its head behind it, it reveals a face covered with goggle-like eyes and a rebreather fashioned into a beak-like apparatus. It flings out the last of its photographs, spilling grotesque faces of haggard men and women who look on the brink of insanity. "Gotham City," it says, its voice harsh and as bottomless as an abyss, "you have not heeded the warnings, and now a Talon has come for you."

There's a sudden scream of panic as people begin to flee and the broad figure rolls out of both trench coat and hoodie to reveal its full armored frame and the long katar knives slipping into its palms.

Barbara is stepping behind the others, and she glances slightly toward Starfire in that moment where a Bat is speaking silently to a Titan. Then she's slipping her hand back down into her bag like she's reaching for that map again. She starts to step back a bit, and when Trish looks at her, her eyes widen slightly in her own attempt to look a little clueless.

* * *

Knives. Karen is, almost, for a moment, discernably less concerned. She forgot, for a moment that Gotham is a little less populated by nightmarish laser pistols and cyborgs that have kryptonite hearts. This means that she has -time-. Time. She's not used to time. She's used to having to deply some sort of hologram to cower in a corner while Power Girl just arrives out of nowhere.

She offers this almost-too-loud scream, crying out in this outrageous, yet believable, mock-terror. "He's ARMED!" she shouts, the kind of genuine fear that could only come from someone who, allegedly, grew up in Metropolis. It helps that this man takes off his hood and happens to be wearing some really villainous sort of attire- the kind that really only Gotham has. It's pretty great. It's also pretty distracting, distracting enough that certainly nobody will notice that Karen isn't going for the exit… Even though she's running, she's running for the -bathroom.-

* * *

There was no team mates here for the French assassin, nor any knowledge of who exactly she was in the company of. Perhaps her perception might be enough to pick up on whose fear was actually genuine, but right now? Amelie was busy ducking behind a display herself and reaching to hike up the skirt of her dress while muttering in her native tongue.

She never could get a weapon that sat well in a bra while wearing something like this! Movies were bullshit! Sure enough though, the small calibre pistol comes to her hand and she exhales a breath. Glancing back around the corner for a moment before she steps out to try and train her weapon of the knife-man.

* * *

Oh, there's excitement! Excitement in the air! A strange masked man! Trish, krav maga and not properly trained Trish, is only a bit prepared for this. But, she supposes, she should probably feign being shocked first and put on weird paper plate masks and Halloween cat ears in a moment.

"Oh my sweet potato fries! Somebody stop that man and…and…where's Jewel when you need her?" Yes, she just asked the old superhero moniker that Jessica Jones used once upon a time. In New York City, granted, but she still asks.

With her glance back at Barbara, she shrugs and raises her eyebrow, nodding to the man and giving the girl a little wink. She then turns back to look at the strange person. "Please don't harm us!" She calls out in fake distress.

* * *

"Oh my!" Kory puts on a pretty good frightened supermodel scream, as the man turns to display his odd and very Gotham-chic brand of attire. They really love their dark colors and ominous masks around here! Of course, while people are running, and while she SHOULD be running, the woman in fact shares whatever knowing look with Barbara and remains very much in proximity to this strange villain, perhaps feigning confusion as an excuse. The truth is that she stands her ground as others rush around her, and even helps nudge a few past, while awaiting any move from the armed stranger.

More for the sake of avoiding property damage than maintaining her identity (which, let's be real, is one of the worst attempts at a secret one ever: her face is on billboards and she fights without a mask), she doesn't just start throwing starbolts. She *does* shift her stance ever so slightly, ready to react to defend herself or any of the civillians in close proximity. People do tend to forget, behind all the blasting, that she's an alien /warrior/ princess, with training that has won her tournaments with the Amazons. So if the local etiquette for Gotham is lots of martial arts kick-punching, she is happy to follow their cultural norms and participate in appropriate fisticuffs!

* * *

There's a flood of movement as people flee from the Talon as it advances with those confident, sure steps. It does not appear to be outright attacking any of the attendees as they flee, but there is still something determined in its course.

At the front of the gallery, Angela Crane is turning sharply as she gets her visitors out the door. She looks up just in time to meet eyes with the Talon.

"Jewel?" Trish Walker is winking at her, and Barbara blinks in surprise. Then she's turning back to the Talon, and Babs is making a run for the bathroom, having missed Karen going in there. She's drawing out a bag as she pushes in through the door —

First blood is spilled as the Talon slashes out across the shoulder of a man fleeing, splattering red across the floor. The broad Talon is now just a few feet from Starfire, and it is assuming she will get out of its way. But if she wants to come to fisticuffs, the Talon has no hesitation in throwing a bladed punch at the alien princess while staying on his course for Angela Crane.

* * *

Kryptonians are fast. They also have this great quick-change thing that they do, or that -some- of them do. Karen can, in a pinch, but she doesn't want to have to replace this suit -again-. The scene that Babs walks in on is… Frankly, pretty hilarious. The salmon-pink suit is on some sort of hanger that, if inspected, probably came out of her pocket. It folds pretty tiny, so that's just plain neat. Really useful. There is also the wig, blonde, hip-length. Really high quality. But by far the strangest thing is the lower half of a torso, the midsection. It's clearly padding enough to make her figure much, much less impressive.

To her credit, though- the person that Barbara walks in on might have some odd things around them resembling a disguise… But it is, most assuredly, the six-foot-three figure of Power Girl. There is a Kryptonian on the scene. Immediately, she's jumping into action. "Didn't know if you had your suit on you, couldn't assume." She is a blur for a half-second as the disguise is hidden on the inside of a roof tile. It's not the best hiding spot, but she can come back for it later, and that gives Barbara some time to just -think- about this particular shenanigan.

"We'll talk later." Barbara has… Mere moments to respond, and if she doesn't react somewhat intensely then, she's just -gone.- It's not hard to tell where she went, as the door is closing again behind Barbara.

There is a rush of wind that accompanies her entrance, and Power Girl has to do this somewhat delicately- as she has to move at a speed too fast to -see,- in order to create the illusion that she came in through the door, in the empty space above the fleeing crowd. It's a tighter maneuver than certain parts of her can pull off without someone feeling it, but that's an imperceptible detail. Her kind are used to that sort of act. Between the crowd, and the Talon- if there's room, behind him if not- There will be the imposing figure of something decidedly Metropolis.

"I don't listen to Gotham Radio very often. I have to say I don't like the song you're playing. You've got one chance to give up or I'm going to punch you back to the mid-1800s."

* * *

Digging through her purse, Trish doesn't even make attempts to hide the fact that she's pulling out a paper plate mask and cat ears. She turns around for a moment, facing toward Barbara. She smiles slyly. "Oh, Jewel. A superhero, once upon a time, from New York." She offers as she throws on the mask and the ears. "Y'all ready for this. Know what I mean?" Perhaps she's been looking a little too forward to trying her skills out again.

Turning back around, now wearing a paper plate mask with flowers and kittens drawn on it, along with Halloween cat ears on her head, Trish stands there, arms crossed. "You know, not that I take a good look at this guy, he doesn't seem so scary." She says to nobody and everybody. "Let's boogie."

And now there's someone else there. Isn't that Power Girl? How did Power Girl…well, she's Power Girl, that's how she knew something was happening. For now, Paper Plate Girl, as she was nicknamed the other night, just knows there's a weirdly masked person who's doing harm. And they've got to stop him.

* * *

Thankfully for Amelie, America came with one great bonus in her line of work. Noone really thought it was all that strange for someone to own or be carrying a gun. Of course, most people couldn't wield it quite as well as the French immortal. Stepping out from behind the display, there's no warnings or talk, she's not a cop after all. She simply opens fire.

Then there's a Power Girl…and her bullets are less intimidating by comparison.

* * *

Needless to say, Starfire does not get out of the way. Whatever might be in character for Kory Anders to do, Koriand'r of Tamaran will not stand aside for anyone, let alone some masked weirdo threatening the unarmed. And while perhaps his blades give him an unfair advantage in proper Gothamite fisticuffs… needless to say she makes up for that in a few ways, her freakish height being the *least* of them.

If the man even gets to her, she has a maneuver ready, one that involves a low kick to surprise and counteract the reach of his blade followed by some grappling to seize and said weapon-arm and then some she is also stronger than she looks throwing. However, rather quickly there is another alien hovering in view, threatening Kryptonian justice. Kori is familiar enough with the concept. He also possibly gets shot a bunch before maybe getting tossed into the sun?

Regardless of how much fisticuffs she actually gets in, Kori's subsequent action says a lot: she pivots almost immediately to the part of her upbringing that didn't involve alien warmasters inside a dead world. "Please, everyone, gather quickly and come this way- we must move clear of the danger!" And even in unfamiliar English, she speaks with calm royal authority.

* * *

"I, what — " Is all Barbara manages to get through before she finds herself smothering out some laughter into her palm that cannot be helped — she might even hiccup it. Then she's shaking her head, glancing behind her toward where the rush of wind goes. Then the door is being shut and Babs is rushing into a bathroom stall. It shuts, and there's a surprisingly little time between when the stall door shuts and when Batgirl darts out, throwing the messenger bag behind the sink on the floor. She darts out, ducking low as she does so she can somersault a distance away from the bathroom before springing up with her hand whipping her bollas into a spinning, high-velocity circle.

The Talon looks around as the heroes amass, and he is about to say something before the air explodes with gunfire. That just incites the screams louder, and bullets rip through the Talon's shoulder and side, throwing him back several steps. He is just staggered, though, and is straightening as he starts forward again. There's Paper Plate Girl, and she meets his blades first as he swipes at her with enough strength to take off her head if she's not careful. He's a trained juggernaut, there's no doubt about that. He might just power right through Trish even with his suit riddled with bullet holes. But then there's Starfire. He almost turns into the strike as she kicks him; his weapon flashes hard toward Kory only to have one of the blades yanked off his wrist, thrown to land blade first into the serious profile of one of the 1910 Cobblepots.

* * *

Power Girl is attempting to be imposing- and, you know, intimidating enough to stop a fight before it happens. Maybe it's because she's that perfect blonde-haired blue-eyed too-clean looking superheroine that is difficult to think of as dangerous, regardless of the fact that she can throw a non-zero number of entire metropolitan areas at you. Maybe it's because of Those. Regardless, the Talon continues to fight, and that means that she has to step in proper.

She moves swiftly- but not so swiftly that she's creating a whirlwind indoors. Joining into the fray on the opposite side of the Talon, Karen reaches for the back of his suit. She is, obviously, faster than a human ought to be: And, still, she is also well-trained. Should she manage to grab a handful of suit, she'll perform this light -twist-, lurching and throwing the assassin through the air. Worse still, though, is the follow-up. She goes from being where she was to where the assassin is, mid-air. It is tough to follow, of course, with one's eyes- simply because in order to meet the assailant in the air, she has to outpace the throw. It's perhaps clever, too- these kinds of people are used to being thrown… And she is looking to send this man to the ground with one punch.

She isn't packing enough power to -kill- someone in armor, but she's using much more strength than a human being is capable of. It's… It's -not- going to feel pleasant.

* * *

Handbag dropped, defensive posture taken, Paper Plate Girl, AKA Hellcat, AKA Trish Walk eyes this masked villain. "You know, nobody gives a hoot about you!" Maybe she shouldn't have said that, because suddenly he's aiming a blade right for her. She does the only thing her brain can think to do. She drops. Right onto her hands and knees. She's not loosing one of her 9 lives. Not tonight, honey.

"Jumping Jack Flash! That was totally not cool, dude!" Getting in a crouch position, looking rather like a cat in fact. She watches Power Girl throw the Talon person. She follows them for a moment, and once she feels she has an idea of where he's landing, especially with Power Girl's punch, she leaps and lands next to him, giving him a punch in his chest.

* * *

Beyond her initial engagement, Kori leaves things to Power Girl - who she both knows to be more than capable, and who also is properly costumed! And then there Paper Plate Girl, who is not PROPERLY costumed, but is certainly putting in a very good effort at it! But Kori as Kory has very much turned her attentions elsewhere. In fact, even as she's rallying people to flee, she goes back for one last soul: the man who was struck initially. Here, she will just have to deal with being publicly a little on the strong side as she hauls him up and then rushes after the body of the crowd.

"Yes this way! Please keep clear, the police will arrive soon. You, please make a 911 call for an ambulance, this man will need medical attention." In the midst of all the chaos, the one other detail she will keep an eye out for is that one Ms. Crane, who seemed to be the man's initial target. She double checks that the woman is alright before resuming all the other duties, trying to keep people calm while pulling out her communicator to check in with her own closest Bat-ally.

* * *

The Talon turns his googled eyes on Trish at the pun, but if the masked assassin actually gets it, it doesn't show on his face. The only thing that staggers him is the sudden wrap of a bollas cord around his other bladed wrist, twisting it up with the batline. He shakes at the peace-bound wrist, glancing once toward Batgirl who flashes her teeth at the Talon. He turns away from her and into more gunfire, but also into a flying fist of Power Girl. He goes flying as expected, plowing into a wall of photographs — and then through it with a crash of drywall and framing. He gives a hint that he might be trying to pull himself upright, but instead collapses back into the rubble.

Starfire checks for Ms. Crane and finds her with some of her employees, directing them out. She turns toward Kory and offers the woman a quick and steady nod. She's fine. Really.

There's the sounds of sirens, and Batgirl whips her head toward it, and then to Hellcat. "Alley! Now!" She points to the back where Trish can find a door out into the alley. For her merit, she is darting through the last of the fleeing people. She catches sight of Starfire just before she ducks out of sight, giving Kory a quick nod of her head. And then her eyes dart to the photos, and back to Kory, and then she's slipping behind a freestanding wall.

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