Ongoing Games (In-Character)Play-by-post games are going on in this forum as we speak (well, read). All threads on this board are actual games, so please, only post on a thread if you are a player of that game.
She stares at the man with a knowing smile. Obviously, she's been asked that question many times before.
"It's no joke, sir. It's a demonstration of chemical reactions using balloons with different gases and compounds inside them. We touch the balloon with a flame, and it explodes with some color or sound or gas; the teachers get the students excited about chemistry, and the students are excited about chemistry. Everybody wins."
"Right. Seems sensible enough." Says Katherine, in response to his comment on the trucks. Although she doesn't trust the guy, it sounds like he's being honest here.
Then he speaks about the safe, and Katherine briefly smiles a feral smile to herself. With one hand she takes out her badge from her pocket and tosses it across the table to the C.E.O of WayneCorp. "Why so serious now, Mr Gul? You were all eager and helpful about those trucks. Is there something valuable in there?"
Katherine shrugs. "In that case, you'd best have some good security floating around. When I hear word in from the scum about something worthy of a mint, it usually means they're planning to steal it. Just a helpful hint, since you're new to the city."
Ra's examines Katherine's badge carefully before handing it back to her. He then stands up, turns towards one of the filing cabinets, where another basket was overflowing with reports. The man removes the basket, revealing a wall safe. She stiffens; its the exact same model from her dreams. Down to the scratch next to the dial.
He opens the safe, hiding the combination from view, to reveal...papers. More papers. And not a grain of sand in sight.
"A contract with the prospective owners of this building, Detective. We're rather busy here because of our current financial distress; selling this building should cover a good deal of our losses."
"Ahh... that sounds cool," he says, and he means it. "Do you do that chemistry demonstration thingie all the time? I might want to check it out if you do... wait, you don't leave those chemicals and stuff out in the open, right? Where the kids can get at it?
I ask cuz I'm thinking of enrolling my own children here; I'm here, just checking the school out. Do you mind if I look around, maybe sit it on some of the classes? Is there, like, a procedure to do that, or like, what?"
If its necessarily, I'll be taking 10 on Bluff checks the entire time with ordinary people, total Bluff is 20. Want to keep tabs on Barbara throughout the day.
Katherine automatically retreated from the safe, flinching from it even as her mind wondered what the hell she was doing. Sand? Why the hell sand?
Recovering, the cop placed both hands on her stick to lever herself up and peer more closely at the files. "Well, I'd bet my soul there's something hidden in there, but goddamn me because I'd rather shoot myself than sort through all that. Where's this building from?"
"Anyway, looks like my visit's coming to sweet nothing, either way. But there's still something odd around here if I heard about it in my kind of work, Mr Gul. I wanna have a look around here, so care to save me the godawful limp back to the station to grab a warrant? I bet you'd hate me to bust my leg like that. Check nobody's planning anything on you - or that you're planning something, either."
"Sorry, but we don't let any parents sit in on classes. At least, not without their children present."
From the look she's giving Hagen, and the tone that remark was in, she really cared about the kids in the school. And then it clicks for the man; she didn't want any perverts in the class.
Her stern look lasts for a few moments, before she fishes out a form from one of her desk drawers.
"Here's an application for the school, if you're really interested. And of course we keep the chemicals locked away from the kids. In fact, when the demonstration isn't in session, the University's Chemistry Department holds them."
"It's Al-Ghul, actually," he snaps. Then, a microsecond later, has the decency to look ashamed.
"I apologize, Detective. I have a small peeve about my name. Imagine if one was to call you Mrs. Ker instead of Detective Walker. And please, feel free to take an hour or two to look over the building. Though I will need to ask you to leave after that hour or two. We'll be signing over the building later today, and it needs to be fully cleared out by then."
"Right, that foreign name. Ghul. I'll keep it in mind next time." Katherine spoke while her mind worked on it's own, trying to join dots and figure inconsistencies. Something wasn't quite right here, from the way the interview had gone to the sand and why she'd come here and brief bursts of dream-logic, come and gone like ash on the wind. The cop shrugged uncomfortably, and spoke. "Mr Gul - Ghul. I haven't got a goddamn clue why I'm asking this, but is there anything to do with sand in this building? My mind's telling me something I can't figure."
Dream logic... ever since that dream she'd just been too nice. Polite, even. It felt goddamn odd, that was what it was. First time in years she'd had a halfway decent night's sleep, too.
Remembering who she was, Katherine started up again. "Just two questions. Who're you signing this place up over to and, before I go - anyplace I shouldn't be going in this building?" Needless to say, she'd be investigating such places very carefully, whether now or later this night.
"Al-Ghul," he corrects her. "The al- is important. But a very good attempt, Detective."
He frowns at the mention of sand. Not a guilty frown, but a confused one. Eventually, he seems to regard the question as a bit of a joke.
"I come from Arabia, Detective. One of the reasons I took this job was to get away from the sand. But your other questions-I believe your 'common sense' is quite sufficient for all things. This is-is about to not be-a chemical storage facility. The vats have the residue of all sorts of compounds, for example. And we are selling this building to one of your city's shipping mangates. A..."
He picks up the contract, and scans it for the name. The pronunciation is off, but there is no ambiguity in his words.
"What the hell?" Katherine's voice trembles with suppressed rage. Her hand is gripping her cane in that now familiar position, locking her fingers into place with anger. "With a utter ****ing lack of respect, Mr Ra Al-Ghul, do you know who the goddamn hell you're dealing with? That man's killed my friends. He's put goddamn bullets between their brains."
For a moment, with the way Katherine is standing, it looks eminently likely that the cop is going to leap across the table and do her best to brain the CEO with her cane, but then she places her hand on the table. The moment hasn't passed so much as been paused. "And you seemed so goddamn polite, too. Almost like a nice guy. You can bet I'll be scouring every inch of this place for whatever Carmine's gonna do with it, sir." Katherine glares at Ra Al-Ghul, giving him enough time to reply before she leaves. "You gonna cooperate or what, then? Help a cop out?"
Last edited by DeafnotDumb : 10-27-2010 at 01:40 AM.
Now he grows indignant. Just as angry. Except his anger is...cold. And infinitely more dangerous.
"Detective, I arrived in this country only two days ago. The sale of this building has been in the works for months. If this Phalcone is in fact a criminal, I had no idea of this fact. You cannot blame me for ignorance. Please. I welcome you double-checking this place."
He grips the edges of the desk until his knuckles turn white.
"Ebn El Sharmoota! I am trapped, Detective. We sell this place, and Wayne Enterprises continues to prosper. Millions of jobs will be saved. But I cannot in good conscience support this evil. If you can find anything to pin Phalcone on, good. I will call the man, delay sale for two days. But after that, I must go through with deal."
Katherine stares back at Ra Al-Ghul, currently far too angry to be remotely afraid of anything on this mortal earth. "Two days? That it?" She grunts. "And here I was thinking it'd be hard."
"You'll get your goddamn evidence, Mr. Ra Al-Ghul, though I don't know why you can't simply see for yourself what you're doing. God knows I'm more than happy to help you shatter that delusion."
With a desultory, almost insulting nod of the head, Katherine turned and walked out from the office before any reply could follow, the click-thud of her stick angrily etching it's mark into the floor. It took quite a stalk to cool off, but Katherine was too much of a seasoned cop to let mind-numbing fury dull her instincts: if nothing else, focusing on actually investigating this godforsaken place , trying to figure out some clues - for what it was being used right now, how Carmine was planning to use it and last but not least how best to break into it later this evening.
Spending a Hero Point to take 20 with investigate, for a whopping total of 35, and taking 10 with notice for a more manageable total of 22. Apart from what's mentioned above, also looking for clues for where to go next - how do do the things mentioned, and so forth.
Hero points currently at 4. Time to slow down a little on the spending.
He scribbles a few words on the pad in front of him. Luigi can't see what he's writing.
"You've been accused of possessing an unregistered firearm. Is the registration in your room at the hotel?"
No it really wasn't. The mob wasn't in the habit of purchasing weapons above the ground. And serial numbers were almost as good as fingerprints.
Well it was obvious when you thought about it, wasn't it?
The place had been a chemical storage facility before Wayne wasn't able to keep it open anymore. And Falcone had his latest shipment of raw materials in. Drugs. This place was going to be dedicated to producing drugs. That new one he had smiled to Hagen about.
Finding a discrete way in was tricky. Ironically, the company had installed some very good security measures in the place, to prevent anybody from siphoning off any of their chemicals...which would have probably been used as raw ingredients in meth labs and the like. And now, those same measures would be used to keep an enormous drug lab safe and secure.
You get a +2 bonus on Stealth checks to break in later, but it isn't an automatic success.
One of the windows in the kitchen is open. Timing it perfectly, Walker slides through it just as one of the cooks' backs is turned. He's in. But the minute they turn around, or anybody sees him, he's going to get kicked out again. And possibly locked up for trespassing.
As Katherine walked around the place, an idea formed itself in her mind. Yes, she could try and get this Gul bastard to stop Carmine's attempts to buy this technological fortress, but why? Looking at it another way, anybody who had just found such a safe place probably wouldn't dare think that it could be a trap.
All she needed to do was find some recording equipment, microphones, ways to hack into the camera feed - whatever was at hand. Turn these security systems working for the criminals into her own little spy network and then sit back and let the evidence roll in.
This was better than just arresting the bugger. This was more than revenge - it was sheer poetry.
She could just imagine the look on his face when he found out. And if it cost her a little too much money - well, that was what Hagen was for, wasn't it?
Making knowledge rolls on where/how to buy enough surveillance equipment of quality to bug the hell out of Carmine's future hideout, and grab a blueprint of the building if possible. Also, a contact roll if it's needed.
"Sure. No problem. We can look up the gun's serial number; work backwards, as it were."
He reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a hip flask. A drink. A burp. He puts it back away.
"We'll search your hotel room for the actual registration for you. Save you the hassle. I've got to keep you for another 12 hours, though; just procedure. If you could put your hands here?"
He indicates where on the table to put them, and produces a set of handcuffs.
Fifteen minutes later, one of the chefs goes out for a smoke and a break. For the next few minutes, the only one there is carefully frying...something. Something that smells really really good.
The station buys its gear from one source; a prior arrest gave Katherine a lead to another supplier. While she didn't know what the private security people were using, it was a start, anyway. It wasn't as if she needed top of the line equipment.
Though her problem wasn't so much with the equipment as with the evidence. Since she didn't have a warrant, any surveillance she did would be illegal.
Luigi curses mentally. What's on these cops that are immune to his powers? Aren't they able to feel appreciation for anything? Perhaps he could tinker with more... Strong emotions?
"But you said that Montoya was not nice to you, I overheard her talking really nasty things 'bout you. You know, I thought you should know..." he says and tries to instil hate in Bullock. Hate towards Montoya.
"Difference between disliking somebody and messing with their arrests."
His face snarls at the mention of Montoya.
"She's a problem. I'll talk to her about it. Doesn't mean that I'm going to mess with her arrests."
Apparently, emotions weren't everything. Luigi could play a man's feelings like a fiddle, but there were limits. Prior relationships and a sense of duty meant that even someone who they now hated was still respected as doing their job.
Her work at the warehouse done, Katherine is just about to leave when her cell phone rings.
"It's Montoya. We're about to charge the guy you brought in last night. Want to see it?"
Smell's nice. Maybe get something to eat later. He attempts to move past the last chef and into the main building, trying to find the commissioner. He was going to make this d*** appointment if it killed him.
Doliest's crimes against good taste
An Uwe Boll fan, and proud of it. LONG LIVE THE BOLL!
Also a Michael Bay fan.
Likes Jar Jar
Likes FATAL..... No, I'm sorry, but no. Everything else on this list? I like, but while I've done many horrible things in my life, I WILL NOT claim to like FATAL.
"Porca miseria!" cursed again Luigi. It was hard to play the good guy, when everyone considered you the bad guy. How could he escape this... uncomfortable situation? The cops were going to his hotel room, and they would find no gun permit. And then he would have lied. So he lied and had an unregistered sub machine pistol. Great. Really smart Luigi.
Escaping from the cell was not going to happen, even if he could, he'll be among like 30 cops. He looks around to see if there were other prisoners in the cells. Perhaps he could arrange a mutiny or something to cover his escape.
OOC: Is there other prisoners? How many? Are there cops around? Can Luigi see where the keys are? Did Bullock took them?
"Yes." Katherine pauses and holds the cell still to her ear, long enough that Montaya asks her if she is there. "Yes." She repeats, not trusting her voice to say any more. "I'll be there. Who's holding him?"
"I'm holding him. Obstruction of justice, and possession of both an illegal firearm and an unregistered firearm. And we're still waiting on the lab for print analysis."
The cells in Montoya's division were almost always empty due to lack of "evidence." This being Gotham, Vice, especially the drug cops, nearly always had their cells full; the cops there wanted their cut. And the confiscated drugs would inevitably be sold back at a profit.
The problem is that a country club has a good deal of open space, and very few nooks and crannies. And Walker definitely did not blend in.
"Well, now," a voice says. "This is interesting."
He's dressed in Armani suit, sipping a tumbler of scotch...and looks more curious than angry.
"Right." Katherine mutters into the phone. "Won't be long. There's something I need to talk to you about."
Katherine disconnects the line and stuffs the phone in her pocket, her fingers brushing the barrel of her gun as they lift out again. Not yet, not yet - but soon. No more time for investigation now, the cop searches the building for an exit to leave and make her way to the holding cells and a nice private talk between her and this man...
"Hey officer" Calls out Luigi, from his cell. "I need to talk to you." When the man is close enough, Luigi approaches the door of the cell. "I have a proposition to make you, look, that Montoya lady is a real pain in the ass. She made up like a ton of invented charges against me. I'll be more than willing to thank anyone who could get me out of here. And believe Luigi when he says there's no one more grateful than an Italian man in need."
Diplomacy: (1d20+6) Since this fails, I use emotional control to instil love towards Liugi and Hate towards Montoya?
What man? Montoya and Bullock both left. Luigi is alone. Also, you can only instill one emotion on one person at a time. Bullock isn't feeling kindly towards Montoya at the moment. Once someone else is affected, he'll be back to normal.
Nothing. Luigi's power worked on the emotions, and there was nobody around to influence. He was alone until someone came for him.
Katherine walks in on Montoya arguing rather fiercely with Bullock. The Latina catches her eye pleadingly as the heavyset man continues on his rant.
Which, on second thought, is rather odd. Montoya asking for help aside, from her aside, the two of them usually got along quite nicely.
"...I mean, what was wrong with that guy I set you up with? He was a goddamn firefighter forchrissakes. Hero of the community. Mr. July on the calender. And you blow him off on the first date? I mean seriously? Why are you such an icy ***** when all I'm trying to do is get you laid, for once in your life?"
"Bullock, shut up." Katherine imposed her stick in between the two arguing police. She didn't have time for this. "My leg hurts and I'm not in a good mood. What's going on here - and I mean about this guy in the cells, not whatever infantile joke you put on now. What do we know about this bastard?"
Her glares weren't reserved for Bullock, either - right now she didn't seem capable of any other suggestion. It was clearly obvious that she'd worked herself into a fury, and not her usual general anger at the world and everything in it. This was much too quiet for her.