12634/Good, Ol' Fashioned Gotham 0

Good, Ol' Fashioned Gotham 0
Date of Scene:	06 September 2022
Location:	Gotham Rooftops, near Burnley
Synopsis:	When an erstwhile 'graffitti' artist tries to get the Bat Family's attention, Red Robin and Orphan pay him a visit during his latest art installation, and find a Gotham-based gang has kidnapped a group of kids belonging to members of NYC's St. Patrick Slithers. Alexander Hyde is not the smartest guy the Bronx has ever produced, but he figured out who he had to get the information to to rescue his niece.
Cast of Characters:	Phoebe Beacon, Cassandra Cain, Tim Drake

---

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    THE ROOFTOPS ABOVE BURNLEY have been, oddly, the site of some weird graffiti. Rough bat shapes (and occasionally that of birds with red chests) with big red X's through them. Vague tags, no signatures, usually constructed by a tall person wearing a long sleeve shirt and a bandana over his face like some sort of train robber, carrying three cans of paint at a time and leaving them behind. There's no gloves left behind, no fingerprints on the cans -- but someone apparently wants the Bat Family's attention.

    Tonight the figure is on the rooftop of a building that hosts a bank. He's audiably huffing and puffing as he makes his way up over the access stairway after cutting the chain that kept it closed, and he sets a red-lit headlamp on so he can get to work spraypainting a bright purple bat on the side of the building's access stairwell outlet --

    "Awww sonovabitch, this is the purple one, ain't it? This ain't black at all! Shit!"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
See, Cass is hoping he goes for the bird this time. He's getting better every time he does the drawing, and watching him do the work is really kind of sweet. Desperate, but sweet. She nudges her compatriot and moves her hands in the bat-shape, knowing that this means she owes Tim a free swing next time they spar.

She's had a bet going. Really should have approached the guy by now but he's been so diligent, and she hated to interrupt.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "It's definitely a bat," Tim's saying from where he's perched at Cass's side. Despite being suited up, his posture is casual, elbow against his knee and hand supporting his chin as they watch. Once the shape really starts to become clear -- you gotta admit, the profiles of birds versus bats aren't all that different -- he fistpumps to himself and smiles over at Cass, before he tips his head towards the figure.

    Sure, Cass might not want to interrupt, but curiosity is one of Tim's greatest weaknesses, and he's not as great an appreciator of art as she is apparently. So he rises to his feet and leaps off the edge of the building, the quiet hiss of compressed air following him down as he fires off a line from his grapple gun.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The artist in question doesn't hear the soft hiss of air, or the commentary to his profile work as he continues to spray the purple bat -- maybe he's aiming for Batgirl this time? -- and he mutters crossly to himself as he works.

    "Purple. Geez. Geddit togedder, Lex! Purple! Gotta stop by the Yardley an' get a fresh thinga black... why do you even HAVE this stuff?"

    The hiss of the spraypaint stops a moment as if the question required additional thought.

    "Oh, right, the ponies."

    And then he continues to spraypaint the shape of a Bat on the wall. It drips. He's not a professional.

    He then reaches for the can of red paint.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cass doesn't go for the grapple line. She's oldschool, she just jumps. Which means she'll come in after Tim most likely, but ...nope, gravity acceleration is apparently pretty quick.

She kicks out her cape, using it as an airfoil, and swoops in to land in a roll. There's some competitiveness there. But she gets there, then...

Hands the artist the can of red. No reason to be mean about things.

She's not wearing a mask. When has she ever? We should consider that maybe.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Tim comes in at a low angle, so he's swinging up and just barely avoids skimming the edge of the building's facade, but it does mean he appears in one fell swoop over the rooftop edge, landing with almost no sound in a crouch.

    Almost. He's not Cass, after all!

    He stands a few feet back, backed by the lit windows of a nearby, taller building so that he's little more than a rough outline against them, broken up by the edges of his cape as the wind whips by. Only the glow of his mask's lenses stand out. Standard Bat entrance, really, but if it's not broken, don't fix it. "Nice art," he says, even though he's dating someone who whips out graffiti murals on the reg and has definitely seen better.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Masks can be important. Especially dominos.

    "Oh hey, thanks!" the artist replies, and accepts the can of red from Orphan before he realizes that he's not alone on the rooftop.

    "GAAAH!"

    he drops the spraycan, the top pops off it and it soaks the low ranging bricks in bright pink, not red. Probably for the similar reason that the purple had a black cap on it.

    "Hey! HEY! I ain't got nothin' 'gainst you guys! I was tryin' ta get a holda someone but yous ain't got like a helpline to call, yaknow?!" he cries out.

    No, he is not a professional. But he's got big arms, meat hands. Looks like he's someone's enforcer.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cass doesn't answer exactly. Anyone who expected her to do so would clearly not have met her, and she watches the guy do his little dance, make his little love. Get down tonight and all that. But when he's done, she glances at Tim.

Sorry. At Red Robin.

She shrugs, then makes a small swirling motion with a finger. It's the one she uses to indicate the police. Though it doesn't look as if she means to call them, more of a conversational gesture.

Ha! We do have a helpline. Call the cops next time. She made a funny!

Tim Drake has posed:
    From the shadows, Tim snorts. Not exactly super dignified, but two steps forward and he'll be close enough for the guy to realize he's got one of the color-coded Batlings. Luckily it's the color that corresponds with not being shot or stabbed, so, good for him. No need for intimidation, at this point.

    Red Robin closes in, and he shakes his head at Orphan, the corners of his mouth twitching as he suppresses a smile. Good one, Cass. "The fine men and women of the Gotham City Police Department maintain a helpline," he says, and he almost sounds sincere. Allllmost. Then the tilt of his head seems to indicate his attention is focused on the spraypaint artist. Waiting, apparently.

    Also running an image of the guy captured via his mask through facial recognition.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    The Guy?

    Alexander Hyde aka 'Lex' aka 'Hyde and Seek' -- gang enforcer for the St. Patrick Slithers, a gang based out of Brooklyn and The Bronx. Nothing huge on his record. Disorderly conduct. Assault and battery in connection to bar fights mostly. Bouncer for a 'club' owned and run by the Slithers. He's six foot tall and some change, and built like a brick house. He's sunburnt, with brown eyes and sandy blonde hair and his face has a bit of a scar on it which makes half his lip curl down in a forced frown. Social media is full of shared pictures of My Little Ponies and superhero girl-power memes, poorly mispelled comments to others about praying for their safety and to Saint Anthony for finding lost things and a GoFundMe for his sister's hospital bills.

    He is, weirdly, a pretty decent guy other than beating the snot out of people as a bouncer and enforcer.

    "Couldn't go to tha cops for this one. Ain't gonna help us with nothin'. Had to ask someone in this stupid town." he grumbles, and he fidgits with something, pulling from his back pocket a leather wallet.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cassandra Cain has her own version of facial recognition. It has two stages. First, she hopes to recognize his face. Second, she's scanning him for cues on what the heck he's thinking. It's usually there, in the subtle movements of the cheekbones and the way he moves. Lots going on.

She doesn't even twitch when the guy reaches for his back pocket. He's not threatening, and Robin would be able to tell simply by the way Cass reacts that he's not going for a gun. This time. She simply looks at him, her eyes deep and patient. The eyes of a girl who would be an incredible listener.

Normally she doesn't show that side of herself on the streets, but this guy's decent.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's difficult to make snap judgments based on police records, or even social media. Which is a trap Tim's fallen into more than once during his career as a detective, but you can't claim to know someone based on the public persona they wear in their day-to-day life.

    Still, it's enough to go on in this moment, when the decision is "do we hear him out?" Apparently the answer to that is yes, and if Orphan doesn't so much as twitch when Lex reaches into his pocket, then Red Robin takes the cue for what it is.

    After a long pause, though, because Bats can't help but be a little dramatic, Tim says, "Okay, we're listening."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "Now you listen ta me!" he calls out, his finger pointing at Red Robin and Orphan -- and then he blinks. "Oh... you... you are listenin', okay --" he stiffens a moment.

     "I ain't got nothin' 'gainst yous guys, I don't even WANNA be in Gotham, but I got something more important than loyalty to the Slithers even if they made me swear on my ma's life and ta Gawd and everythin'--" he digs a moment in his wallet with shaking hands, and drops the leather tri-fold while holding up a picture of a smiling girl with brown hair and bright eyes, with FIRST GRADE written in careful block letters at the bottom.

     "This here -- this is Caidance. That's Kay like in Okay but it's spelt See-Ay-Eye and then Dance like ya movin'. She likes those cartoon talkin' horses and hates princess movies with the fancy music. She's my niece, an' there is nothin' I wouldn't do to get her outta their scumbag hands." he states, holding up the picture as if it were a shield. He's shaking, though it's hard to tell if it's with rage or fear; his ears are bright red and he keeps his stance stiff.

    "Those douches stole her right outta her bed. Broke inta my place, ripped my apartment apart and--" his voice cracks, and he swallows a lump in his throat "... they took her right outta her /blankets/. She's in her jammies. She's just a kid for Chrissakes." he stumbles a moment, tears in his eyes welling up.

    "They got eight of ours. All little kids. Ain't got nothin' to do with the gangs, that's just wrong. An' she was screamin' when they took her, callin' for her uncle Alex. They threatened ta shoot the kids if we got the police involved. I am *beggin'* yous guys... she don't got no one else. Her ma's sick. I'm all she's got." his voice quivers, shoulders shaking as he tries to hold in his breath and steel himself. Lex Hyde was supposed to be a tough guy, not break down over some kids.

    "Get 'em back. I'll quit gangs an' go straight an' narrow an' work three jobs if it means gettin' her back." he pauses, and then the picture's shaking too hard to focus on as he shakes. "She ain't got no one else. I ain't got no one else I can ask."

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Assuming his body language checks out, which it probably does (correct me?), Cass gives Tim the nod. She doesn't pull away from the guy, and though she only glances at the picture she definitely watches his face. She's up close after all, best way to do this kind of thing.

Pat pat. Pat pat. She puts a hand on his hand, and nods. No smiling, she wouldn't say that it's alright. It's probably not. But she does nod. There's a brutal honesty going on here.

She has stuff to say, but she won't do it in front of a civilian. Not even one that's hiring the team to do a job. Which is what's happening. He'll pay by what he's offered.

Go straight. Do better. Bruce will -probably- even find the guy a job. In Metropolis, where his Ciedance will be safe.

Did I say that Cass could spell? I did not.

Then she stands up, her posture firm. Nod. She spreads her hands, then looks around pointedly?

Tim Drake has posed:
    All Lex gets for a while is nods. Not a talkative bunch, these Bats. Well, not when one of them is fantastic at reading body language, and the other one is putting together a case file in their head.

    It's Cass, in the end, who goes for the comforting handpat. A good play. Reassuring but still distant, gotta play things safe. Once again, this guy's lucky to have ended up with the Bats that he did. Very little chance of punching first and asking questions later.

    In fact, the questions start now. "We're going to need more details. Not just about Caidance," yes he's made a mental note about the spelling, "But about all the kids that were taken. Dates, times, known associates of their family members, criminal histories, the works."

    Red Robin steps forward, into the light. "We'll help you, but you have to tell us the truth."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "I can get you names an' ages. Caidance was friends with some of 'em. 'Cause their parents are friends a' mine." Alex replies, he rubs the back of his head a moment.

    "Guess maybe yous woulda helped me out regardless. Tried to do that thing where they give out all these details like in Silence of the Lambs, yaknow?" he mumbles, and pats on Cass's hand as well, very awkwardly.

    The information is given, as much as Alex can remember. Caidance was the only one he was sure of the date and time. He was around for the aftermath of another. All the kids taken over two days' time by the Steel Cobras out of Gotham, who apparently wanted to start a cross-city gangwar and barge in on the much smaller St. Patrick Slithers turf in NYC.

    Alex was a little fuzzier on criminal histories; he was fairly low ranked, which is why no one missed him on his trips to spraypaint Gotham. He only took up with the Slithers because they gave dental insurance and Caidance needed braces.

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cass doesn't watch movies. They don't make sense, with the actors doing scenes out of order in filming and not really getting into it enough to make them understandable. But that's her problem, not this guy's. Whatever his name was. The guy with the hands.

And the kid. Who needs help.

The thing is, she's of literally no use at this point. She looks at the guy as he starts talking, and rubs the back of her neck with one hand. If Tim has this she's got other bad guys to stop, but you know. She's not gonna just leave him hanging.

Even if this is all talky-gabble work. Words are hard.

Tim Drake has posed:
    It's a lot of information but also not, at the same time. Wide but not deep, and not a whole lot to go off of. But Tim's solved cases on less, and someone, somewhere up the chain -- whether in the Slithers or the Steel Cobras -- will give him more.

    "There's a new Contact in your phone. If you think of anything else, or if something happens, call that number." So it turns out they do have a helpline. Who knew. Though it's probably an automated system tracked by Oracle up in the Clocktower and tied into the Batcomputer and the Roost's systems, somehow.

    He looks over at Cass, head tilted to one side in questioning with a hint of apology. I know that was a lot of talking. Ready to go?

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... oh! Thanks! Thank you! An' I promise, after this mess is cleaned up? Straight an' narrow. Might take me a bit to save up to get tha tattoos off an' everything, but if yous guys ever need a place to crash in da Bronx. An' anyone speaks bad a' da Bats, I'll... uh... won't punch their lights out. I'll think a' somethin'." Alex grunts, and rubs the back of his head. "Unless they're bein' gross 'bout Batgirl. Then I punch 'em out."

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    Alex looks to Red Robin, and then points to Orphan "She Batgirl?"

Cassandra Cain has posed:
Cass looks at the guy. She looks at Tim. Then she puts her fingers into little circles, and puts them over her eyes so she's looking out of a mask.

Then she talks.

"Do nothing. Be ...normal." She manages to get it out, hating to use words unless she's gotta. And then?

Then she's glancing at Tim, and turning to go. By 'go' I mean jumping off of something. Again.

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Go about your normal routine," Red Robin adds, after Orphan has spoken. He pauses, his jaw going tight for a moment, before he continues with, "And if that means committing any crimes, just be careful. Try not to get anyone hurt, including yourself. We're going to get Caidance back, and she's going to need you around to take care of her."

    With that, Tim also steps over to the edge of the rooftop, but he glances back over his shoulder. "No," is his only answer, and then he's gone with a sweep of his cape.

Phoebe Beacon has posed:
    "... wow... an' I mean *wow*.... nice people, dem Bats." Alex states, looking a moment at his purple bat on the wall.

    He takes the pink back up, and gives the bat a smiley face before he huffs a breath, leaves the cans, and makes his own exit off the rooftop, equal in awe and relief.

    His niece as going to come home, and he had high hopes for the first time in more than a year.