Earth-52 IC

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Grayson - that name was all too familiar. It wasn't hard for Kate to learn how Renee died - just a matter of asking the right questions to the right people. Her killer, though, that took digging. She'd taken advantage of the chaos that No Man's Land had brought to Gotham by slipping into the GCPD Record Room, and going over the report of Montoya's death (written, as it was, by the other Katherine in Renee's life). Kate was all too familiar with the scenario - a mafia hitman named Richard Grayson bursts into Renee's apartment to try to kill another mafia hitman turning state's evidence. Both hitmen live; Renee dies.

The Black Crossbow, however, clearly knew Grayson somehow, and it seemed as though the man knew Grayson professionally. What she couldn't figure, though, was how. Was he a reformed criminal? Was he someone who knew someone their Grayson had visited? Before Kate could grill the man, Grayson-Batman ordered them into the car. There would be time later to look into who the Black Crossbow really was - once they were back in their Gotham, and she could flex her investigative muscles on her home turf.

Kate didn't have Lock-Up's breathless wonder at the glossy black vehicle, but she appreciated its design. She could tell it was built to be sturdy, fast and secure, and whoever built it had a flair for the dramatic - why else make it glossy black? "Nice wheels," she said, getting into the backseat. "Sure beats riding in the back of the Paddy Wagon. What do you call it? The Prowler? The Tumbler? The Batpod?"

Spoiler

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JIC:(1d20)[15]

[industrious]

Grayson

"I'm not telling you because there are others present. I'd rather not spoil anyone's secret identity. As for me being an ad...imagine if you arrived in a world where nobody knew about your childhood heroes, except those heroes were actually real and you've met them. Fought with them."

Grayson leaps into the driver's seat, guns the engine. Well. The primary engine, at least.

"And we have a very special name for this one. Very special indeed."

Everyone instinctively straps in as quickly as possible. That flying Batmobile might be faster for all they knew but this one was close enough to a normal car that they could tell it was fast.

Grayson begins flicking switches, and the roof slides back into place, sealing them inside.

"We call this one 'the car.'"

Pedal goes down two inches. Car shoots forward at 60mph and out of Firewall far too quickly for most people's liking. It clears the ramp leading down into Firewall, lifting maybe a foot in the air as it does so. Hydraulic suspension absorbs most of the shock when they get back to the ground, but there's still enough of it for them to know that they deliberately made sure that you felt everything with this car.

Firewall is apparently located by Gotham U, as they spot one of the dormitories out of the right hand window. Briefly, at least.

The city speeds by them at ground level, the Batmobile weaving through traffic that does its damnest to get out of the way once it sees what is heading towards them.

"You'll be patrolling with someone who isn't part of Batman Inc," he says casually, while barrelling down the streets at over 100mph.

"She's a satellite member of the Birds of Prey, but she requested seeing you, and Oracle insisted."

That, at least, was a familiar name. Even if "Oracle" was just a myth, the Birds of Prey were fairly active in their Gotham.

They stop at a specific street corner right by a bad part of town.

"This is where we part ways. Good luck."

They wait for maybe a minute before their contact shows up. And all of their breaths hitch in their throats.

"Well now. A round of introductions and then we'll be off?"

Two people present can recognize that voice. And as its speaker steps out of the shadows, all of them can recognize the vigilante. Or at least, her most distinguishing feature.

Their contact is a dark-skinned blonde wearing a blue fedora, a dark purple silk shirt, a grey vest that looks to be reinforced with kevlar, and leather motorcycle gloves. One person present knows that the top two buttons of the shirt are threaded not with silk but cheap polyester, after an certain incident that caused the two of them to be banned from a specific hotel for life.

"What?" the figure asks. "Do I have something on my face?"

The opposite is true. Her face is a featureless blank, and while two of them recognize that it is this universe's Question before them, the other two know that they are face to face, as it were, with Renee Montoya.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine drops her stick. There's a clatter as she bends to pick it up, cursing, but thankful that the distraction didn't cause her to say anything incriminating. She stands there, half-risen, as she looks up to the faceless, incomplete body of Renee Montoya. She'd never been this truly lost for words before, even if the words had been rough and nasty, but now she's as eloquent as a flustered schoolgirl. Which is strange, because she's never was a flustered schoolgirl. An ill-tempered one. at best.

Still, there's nothing much she can do but look at the figure that's appeared in front of her. The movement, the body, the voice, it's all disturbingly like the woman in her memories, if a little older, a little wiser, a little different like it would have been if she lived. Walker winces, and tries to shut away that thought. It still clamors at the back of her mind. To distract herself, she looks at the others, Lock-Up, Deadshot, Question, and hope they don't deciper the looks she's sending at them.

Steady breaths, Katherine. Breathe. Don't dwell on it. Just look past and.... live. Or try.

"So," She says, her voice barely shaking, "W-who are you? I mean, what is it that you do here?" Stupid question, stupid question, she's wearing a costume like one of those freaks what could she be doing here why wasn't she a cop anymore? "Forget that. I'm Kathe- I mean, Lieutenant Walker. I'm sorry, it's just that..." She swallows the words at first before she can bing herself to say them "-I mostly know you as someone dead. Do you know a man called Bullock? He - took it hard." Why is she even saying this? "He's a friend back in my world. I'd just like to know - is he okay here? Do you know him?" There's something odd catching at the edge of her voice.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

Having never really known Montoya himself, Deadshot could only wonder what suddenly had the others so spooked. He looked between the two Questions and said, "Hey, you two wore the same outfit! Catfight!" in his sarcastic, quippy tone. Maybe he was just trying to break the ice, or maybe he just wanted to see a catfight. How often did you get to see a good catfight these days?

Spoiler

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JIC: 1d20=6

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate froze when she heard this universe's Question speak. Her heart leapt into her throat as she heard Renee's voice, watched breathlessly as a faceless female form resolved itself in the dim light of Gotham's side streets. The street noise faded away - all Kate could hear was the pounding of her own heart in her ears as she looked upon incontrivertible proof that they were somewhere far from home.

Renee - the love of Kate's life - was alive, and she was The Question in this reality. She wanted to run to Renee, embrace her and repair the aching void in her heart from when Gotham took her away, but she knew she couldn't. In that moment, Kate learned how difficult Orpheus' trek out of the Underworld was, and how it was inevitable that he would look back to see if Eurydice was following him.

Despite her lack of a face, Kate's surprise was evident. She backed away from Renee, tripping on the curb and tumbling to the ground. Her fedora cartwheeled off in the fall, giving Kate a moment to collect herself. She grabbed the hat, bit her lower lip and stood back up, dusting herself off, trying to find words other than the ones she'd been wanting to say for five years.

"Ahem, sorry. I'm The Question - well, our The Question, really. Then again, you probably already knew who I am." She glared at Deadshot from behind her mask at his juvenile remark. "Cut the jokes, Deadshot. This is serious business." She summoned up all the ice she could manage in that line, possibly spurred on from meeting the two Batmen earlier in the evening, but her voice shook too much to be truly effective. The Question was rattled, that was obvious to everyone - she just hoped she could play it off as being the shock of meeting your double.

Spoiler

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JIC: (1d20)[3]

[industrious]

Renee Montoya

Pseudoderm masks don't completely hide expressions. While they completely obscure any and all facial features, the material keeps the underlying structure, and to anyone with experience, it is entirely possible to read emotion through the mask.

Renee looks at each of them, and her gaze lingers over both Walker and Kate, causing one of their hearts to pound even faster. There might be a raised eyebrow at their reactions...or Walker's words.

"We can talk personally after this is over, Lieutenant. As for what I do...consider me a private detective employed by Batman Inc. And right now, I'm investigating an human trafficking case. International human trafficking. Children."

She speaks in a calm, clear tone. A cop doing a briefing.

"My leads indicate that this particular warehouse is where they are storing their latest shipment. My sources tell me that there are two reliable entrances; a rooftop access hatch, and an old sewage overflow system from when the building was meant. We'll split into two teams: Lieutenant, you, Lock-Up, and Deadshot will take the rooftop. Your Question and I will enter through the basement. Take down any guards you can, but don't attempt to free any of the children yet. Once the guards are taken care of, we'll call in the FBI, who are waiting on our signal. Any questions?"

It's meant to be more rhetorical than anything; she obviously expects confirmations, not doubts.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate composed herself once she heard the case Renee - no, The Question, think of her as The Question - was investigating. Children kidnapped, held against their will. Kate's military training began to kick in - make a plan, get the job done. She adjusted her trenchcoat, smoothing out some wrinkles, as she spoke. "How many hostiles are we expecting? Armaments? Do they have military training? Do they have metahuman support, or are they just the regular sort of scum?" There was an edge to Kate's voice, one that the Knights had only occasionally heard. It rarely surfaced, but when it did, she fought with an uncharacteristically cold fury. Damn you, she thought. Damn you for making me hurt you the way I'm about to...in front of her.

[industrious]

Briefing

"It's a Religion of Crime shipment. We're looking at 13 guards, 6 of them meta, with the rest given military-level training. Only without any concept of fighting fair or honor. Armaments range from swords to RPGs, and my information wasn't that detailed."

Renee nods once, jerks her head towards the warehouse.

"Let's go."

Rooftop

Getting to the top of the building was easy; the number of gargoyles in the area made grappling up nearly as simple as using an elevator--and a lot more fun.

The metal siding is sharply angled, with only a few flat areas containing ventilation and a rooftop access door. It's rained recently, and stagnent pools of murky water have collected, showing blurred reflections of the night sky. And as the three head upwards, they see that even in this strange and bizarre Gotham, at least the stars are the same.

Sewers

The sewers aren't so bad. Even their much-vaunted smell seems to be more reputation and common knowledge than actual fact. There are even "sidewalks" for the two of them to walk along, side by side, without ruining their feet too badly.

They walk in silence for less than a minute before Renee speaks. Her voice is quiet, and she isn't looking at Kate either.

"Hello, Kate."

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised 1, Injured 2
Hero Points: 2

Lyle takes a short moment to contemplate the stars, tracing the familiar constellations with his eyes, and finds that their familiarity is a comforting platform of stability in this alternate universe, this unfamiliar Gotham. He looks at the other two and subconsciously moves himself into a position to catch the Lieutenant, should her leg give out and send her tumbling. He nods. "Are we ready?" he asks, and indicates the access hatch that would allow them entry into the building. "Because, if not, now'd be a good time to let me know." He himself is still smarting as a result of his wounds, although they'd stopped bleeding. He found himself longing to spend time with Shondra, and not only because she could heal him. No, like the stars, Shondra was a pillar, something solid and concrete, that he could tie himself too. He thought that he might even be in... He shakes his head, and then stops himself, worried that the others may have noticed. "If we're ready, let's go. Deadshot, try to hit the target this time, okay?"

(1d20)[2]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate's heart stops. She's wanted to hear that voice again, hear those words again. Moreover, it's clear that this Renee knew Kate - but were they just friends here? Hell, was this Renee...like her Renee?

Kate let the statement stand for several long moments, mostly due to the fact that she can't find the words to say, nor the breath to say them in. Eventually, she finds her voice again, far more quiet and mousy than most who know her would expect. "Renee, I...I didn't expect to see you here...as me..." Her words are awkward, stumbling over them in the dank sewers. Her voice quavers, as the memories come spilling back to her - all the good times they had together before...

No, don't think about that. Focus on the mission. Focus on having one more meeting with Renee before you head home. Focus on the children that need to be saved. Focus on anything but that.

[industrious]

Renee

"It's just as strange for you to be here as well, Kate."

A few more steps. Renee reaches towards Kate, and slowly, slips her hand into the other woman's, fingers intertwined.

"You didn't take my...death very well, then."

Kate wonders how Renee knew for a moment, before remembering Walker had blurted it out.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot

That was still a sore spot for Deadshot. He prided himself on his accuracy, so missing like that was like a boot to the nuts. It hurt his pride, and for a man who basically ran on ego and adrenaline that hurt. Even through the mask Lock-Up could see the frown on his face. "Just try not to stand in front of the bad guy this time, then." he shot back, sounding irritated. "Open her up. Let's do this."

JIC: (1d20)[10]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Bruised 1, Injured 2

Bolton reaches a gloved hand towards the access point before pausing hesitatingly at the last second. He looks back up at Deadshoot and shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says, and his voice is startlingly soft, almost human. "I was trying to make a joke; I guess I'm not very good at them. You're the best damn shot I've ever met, no doubt in my mind about it. And you're right: I shouldn't have been in the way." With that, he opens the way inside and peers through, scanning for any points of interest, including visible enemy forces.

(1d20)[10]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Whether Kate had forgotten about Walker's outburst or simply hadn't heard it mattered not. When Renee takes her hand, she gives up any pretense of fighting her emotions. She stops Renee for a moment, and embraces her, hugging her tightly. This was neither the time nor place for a romantic encounter, but the ache in heart she had carried for five years would not be denied.

"No...you were taken from me so suddenly. I didn't get to say goodbye - none of us did. I...sort of lost my way for awhile." She lets go of Renee, pulling away to look at where her eyes would be. "But it was you that brought me back from a very dark place. Made me do something constructive. Made me...question my purpose here in this life."

Kate sniffled, cursing as she dealt with one of the problems with pseudoderm masks - tears didn't quite soak into it the way they did with fabric. She rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, this is really unprofessional. I know there's a bunch of children up there that need rescuing, and my teammates are moving into position, but if I don't say this, I'll be kicking myself for the rest of my life. I love you, Renee. You meant the world to me, and I just want to say thank you for giving me direction.

"Now, let's go play hero."

Spoiler

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JIC: (1d20)[7]

[industrious]

Renee

Renee leans forward, so that their foreheads are nearly touching.

"When we're done with this, we'll talk at my place. I promise."

She draws away slowly, reluctantly, and after about another hundred feet, heads up another ladder.

Basement

The sewer grate slides forward with a harsh noise that makes Kate swear that they'll be discovered. Heading up the ladder, they find themselves in what appears to be a storage room; random collections of miscellaneous garbage, scrap metal, and rusted machines clutter the area. The smell of expired motor oil and rat droppings fills their lungs, and several cockroaches flee from the flashlight Renee waves across the room.

"Let's get to work."

Top Floor

The doorway leads down into a narrow staircase, one side nothing more than a railing that shows most of the bottom floor. The room below is quite large, and they can see thirteen cages in rows of six and one stationed at the far end of the room below. A few dark shapes patrol around the perimeter of said cages.

From above, they can hear the quiet sobs of the children.

((Stealth checks from everyone. Everyone.))

Firewall

Batgirl and the Spoiler take the time to clean up after the meal; throwing the paper plates away, cleaning the waffle iron, and putting the rest of the casserole into a small refrigerator.

"I'm going to be training Spoiler in staff combat," Batgirl declares. "If you want, you can use the computer to look yourself up or something."

[Terron]

Luigi nods. "Thank you bambina." he says; he was sure that his outburst had given the detective enough clues as to who he was, there was no point in hiding his heritage longer. Moving to the computer, the ex-gangster tries to look himself up in the computer. He is also curious about some other characters.

JICR(1d20)[3]

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 22
Condition: Unharmed

Deadshot crept quietly along the catwalk as he switched his monocle to infravision in order to see better in the dark room. He drew a bead on one of the available targets, sighting down the length of his arm, and tried to pick out someone who looked like he was giving orders if there was one. If the others wanted to get up close and personal, Deadshot would take up a sniper position from there.

Spoiler

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Stealth: (1d20+11)[24]
JIC: (1d20)[14]

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate smiles beneath her mask. "I'd like that. I've missed your voice." Kate follows her, and smirks as she watches Renee climb. That's not all I've missed, she thinks, but quickly pushes the thought out of her mind - there's a job to do.

Kate grits her teeth and winces as the grate grinds against the stone floor. She pulls herself up, accepting a helping hand from Renee, and nods at Renee's statement. Kate treaded softly, keeping an ear and an eye out for sentries.

Spoiler

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Stealth: (1d20+18)[29]
JIC: (1d20)[15]

[Sophistemon]

Lock-Up
Injured 2, Bruised 1
2 Hero Points

As he descends the staircase, moving as slowly as he can so as to not alert the guards, Bolton unclasps his nighstick from its loop and grips it tightly in his right hand. A spike in adrenal activity causes his wounds to throb painfully, but he manages to channel that pain into focus. He notes Deadshot availing himself to a sniper's position, which suits Lock-Up just fine; he prefers melee beyond all other forms of combat. Although, thinking back on Deadshot's use of grenades, he decides to add similar equipment to his arsenal at the earliest opportunity. Creeping as silently as his bulk will allow on the catwalk, he approaches the enemy, deciding to attack them from the side, so as to stay out of line of sight.

Stealth: (1d20+8)[16]
JiC: (1d20)[18]

[industrious]

Warehouse

Notice Check:(1d20+10)[27]

Deadshot's enhanced optics can see one of the men's nostrils flare...and then, the gleam of realization in his eye.

"I think we have company," he half-sings, half-speaks, his voice slightly melodic and eerily lyrical.

"Someone old, and something new and someone borrowed and someone blue. Come out, Faceless. Come out!"

Spoiler

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Initiative. Roll it.

Firewall

Luigi is able to get onto the 100Zero search engine, and begins the process of searching for names on the internet.

First searching for any mention of himself, he finds a passing mention in one of Gotham's newspapers. Unfortunately for him, it's a reference to his death in something labeled "The War Games," and the article seems to assume that the casual reader will know it by name. From context, it appears to have been a massive, devastating gang war. Apparently, he hadn't ever left the mob in this reality.

Panic seizes Luigi as he quickly tries to search for his old partner, Gino, to no avail. Similarly, as he searches for their Gotham's greatest hero and the mobs most infamous killers, he only finds an article stating that Dent had had to step down from his position as DA after being hit with acid. As for the Smiler or Grayson...nothing. Not a word or whisper or rumor. On the other hand, the Italian mafia appears to be broken in this timeline, as a result of the aforementioned War Games.

Bruce Wayne appears to be sane and very well to do in this reality as well. Renowned playboy, billionaire philanthropist, and majority shareholder in Wayne Enterprises...who apparently uses the power quite liberally, though most of the time, he invests most of it in his CEO, Lucius Fox.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 22
Condition: Unharmed

Thanks for making yourself a priority target, Sing-Song. Deadshot thought to himself as he centered his crosshairs on the guy that had called out. Remembering what had happened with the Cluemaster and Lock-Up, he took an extra moment to make sure of his aim while his comrades got into position.

Spoiler

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Initiative: (1d20+7)[17]
Using my action this turn to aim.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

"Damn, they've already twigged that we're here. Alright - let's do this the hard way." She took her place next to Renee, and waited for this universe's Question to head out - this was her op, which meant she was leading it. She crouched into a fighting stance, her muscles taut and ready to spring at the first sign of an assault.

[DeafnotDumb]

Lieutenant Walker

Katherine swears to herself and grabs her swordstick, glad that Stephanie wasn't here to do something idiotic and heroic and get herself killed. Not that she could blame her, honestly. For Deadshot's sake, his mistake had better end up with the kids alright...

[Terron]

Luigi bites his index finger through his scarf as he assimilates the data he researched. Could it be that this dimension was so different? Gotham, Gotham as he knew it was what it was for all this persons and organizations that left huge marks on it. But none of them existed or mattered in this Gotham. Perhaps the void left by them was seized by others, like Wayne, who seems to be an important figure in this reality. Even the Italian mafia was not more than a bad bedtime story. But why was he worrying so much anyway? He was going to get back to his Gotham soon... wasn't he?

[industrious]

Renee

"Right. Back me up; your presence here is going to confuse them. A lot. Make the most of it."

She turns to go, then suddenly doubles back, presses their foreheads together once more.

"I love you."


And then she walks slowly, calmly out the door of the storage room, and faces the sing-song man squarely, hands in her pockets.

"I'm here. Let them go, Grevane."

The man inclines his head slightly.

"As you wish, Faceless. As you wish."

The guns are pointed at the various PCs; and Grevane and two of his unarmed lackeys squarely face Renee.

Spoiler

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Deadshot's Turn.

[ChronicLunacy]

Deadshot
Defense: 22
Condition: Unharmed

"Hey, buddy. You've got something on your jaw there! Let me get it!" Deadshot taunted from the catwalk as his wristol spat and a burst of rubber-tipped projectiles zipped across the distance between him and Grevane. He knew he was probably stepping on the other Question's toes a bit, but he wanted to see if this guy was as tough as he acted.

Spoiler

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Autofire Blast 8 (Improved Aim): (1d20+16)[18]
I just...can't win in this universe. What the hell? I'm using a hero point to reroll that.

[ChronicLunacy]

Spoiler

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Hero Point: (1d20+16)[18]
The same exact roll? At least it turns into a 12 now... Adjusted roll of 28.

[industrious]

Grevane and the Brute Squad

Spoiler

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(1d20+12)[15]

That's not good...villain point reroll!

[industrious]

Grevane

The bullets knock him down, but the sing-song man nimbly gets back on his feet, and his gaze turns upward.

"Interesting," he murmurs.

"Kill them."

Three more tall, slender figures in ragged clothing emerge from the shadows. Their eyes glitter in the dim light, necks craning to stare at the trio above them. Their knees bend and they leap upwards.

For a moment, it's almost laughable. They're nearly 20 feet up, for one; no human could ever jump that high. And they have no weapons, and are rail-thin, and...

There's enough time for maybe one more thought before they notice that contrary to their prior assumptions, the figures appear to be able to actually leap to that height; by their calculations, the three will simply crash into the railing itself. Except...

The three tall and thin humans are no longer any of those prior descriptors. They're something else entirely. Fur and fangs and teeth. Powerful builds that effortlessly smash through the steel rails and before the PCs brains can process what is going on, have leapt onto them...

Spoiler

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Status: Grevane(Bruised 1)
Attacking Walker: (1d20+8)[19]
Attacking Lock-Up: (1d20+8)[9]
Attacking Deadshot: (1d20+8)[14]
DC 27 Toughness Saves if they hit.

[Bruendor_Cavescout]

The Question

Kate's heart flutters as she hears Renee say those words again. They bring a quick smile to her lips, and for a moment, she allows herself to enjoy that happy instant. Sadly, she knows she cannot dwell upon it long, so she gets down to business.

Normally, Kate's plan would be to go invisible and attack obliquely, but several things made her reconsider. The first, of course, was Renee's attack strategy. She was probably right - the Religion of Crime, whoever they were, were expecting one Question. A second would truly confuse them, and they would be vulnerable during their moment of confusion. Second - and this was suddenly very important - they were apparently werewolves, and she wasn't certain if her invisibility would fool their sniffers.

So, for those reasons, she decided to keep herself visible. And, given the close quarters, an attack upon their flank was not possible. The only possible solution: bravado.

Kate charged out from the darkened room, running past Renee towards one of Grevane's lackeys. Her light-blue trenchcoat fluttered as she charged the man, and she slammed into the man, throwing the momentum of her attack into her forearm, crashing into his throat.

After she struck, she settled into a defensive stance, focusing her gaze upon this Grevane. "I thought I should bring backup to this fight, Grevane, and who better to back me up than myself?"

Spoiler

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Strike on one of Gravane's guards, Power Attack for 2, DC 21 Toughness save if successful: (1d20+9)[20]
JIC: (1d20)[15]