18253/Burnley west of the Bowery

Burnley west of the Bowery
Date of Scene:	09 June 2024
Location:	Burnley - Bleake Island
Synopsis:	Batman has been keeping tabs on a Vigilante working out of the Bowery and tonight is the night he's going to descend on her. Information they receive leads to a plan by the Scarecrow. Nightwatch survives first contact with the Bat.
Cast of Characters:	Zoe Mills, Bruce Wayne

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Zoe Mills has posed:
Zoe has been operating out here for about four years. Probably just small things here and there at first. A samaritan stops a mugging. A robbery in progress is interrupted before the GCPD can arrive. Then just grower bigger and bolder as time goes on. They go by Nightwatch, a figure that's been slowly pushing back against the crime and criminals that infest this little two block area of the Bowery. They appear well informed, often handling a matter before the police can gather up a squad for a raid. Less well-equipped, but making do with what they have. What likely ends up flagging Batman's radar... is scavenged tech from previous fights that have HIS stamp on them. Stuff that was thought broken or destroyed in a fight is showing up, crudely patched and being used against the criminals that are trying to take over the area.

She's currently up on a rooftop overlooking Gotham Arms, a standard issue pair of binoculars being used to scope out the empty lot across the street, next to Gotham Arms. It's a popular spot for drug deals to go down, the broken lights in the lot mean only the weak lights from the street attempt to breach the darkness, with buildings on either side casting waves of shadow across the lot. Perfect place for the cockroaches to play.

Stifling a yawn, she checks her watch and mutters a small curse under her breath, "Come on already... I'm already going to be exhausted tomorrow... get down here and lets get this over with." A small sigh and then, "Maybe I can convince Gerry to take the chair and I'll handle the front. Can't afford to fuck up the ink.." There's movement in the lot and 'Nightwatch' snaps to attention, a slow smile curving their lips. "There we go.. just need to see the goods, boys..."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Batman keeps tabs on anyone operating in Gotham, from the lowest demoniator to the upper echelons of vigilantism. With a varying degree of his, admittedly considerable, attention spared to those who begin to make a name for themselves. There was a time, a decade ago, where any Vigilante would have met the Bat before they ever set down roots. They would given a very strict code that will be followed and those who couldn't be swayed to this, would find themselves a new city.

As more heroes made Gotham their home, that became less practical. Besides which, and this was probably his kids doing, it made him seem like an asshole. Which he is, sometimes, but he's never really cared for a popularity contest. So, to say he is aware of Nightwatch is probably an understatement. Likely has been for some time. Their graduation to using more evolved tech, namely his, was not what made him start paying attention... oh no, it's what made him pay her a visit.

Even now, he's watching her.

A black shadow on the same building she's standing on now. Darkness around him, save for his steely blue eyes beneath the cowl that has become as much a mythos as a symbol. Is he human? There are stories. Whispers. Rumors. Mostly spoken between criminals. They say on the darkest nights beneath the glow of the Bat Symbol in the sky?

The boogey man comes.

The reality isn't far off the mark.

Usually he'd have already busted up that Drug deal. He'd have beaten a location out of those down in that alley and crashed the production site. This isn't his show, however. It's hers.

She just doesn't know it's an audition.

Zoe Mills has posed:
Zoe knows better than to just jump in on two dudes in a parking lot. That's how you end up breaking up a different kind of transaction. It may not be strictly *legal*... but it also isn't harming anyone and she's no moralizer. That's between people and their chosen faiths. Also, she may have done exactly that at some point. And that's the sort of embarrassment she isn't eager to repeat. Now that she can see the little baggy, however. Well. Now it's her business.

Nightwatch has a modified military style belt, pouches, tied down holsters. It isn't the cleanest work, but clearly they're making an effort. The gun that's pulled isn't a gun perse. It's a grapple gun. One of his. Old model. He can see the blast marks on one side that suggests it was welded back together after an explosion of some sort. Not as efficient, but they have it in working order. Or at least, working enough for their purposes.

Firing the grapple, Nightwatch glides across the street on a line sunk into the side of the Gotham Arms Tavern. Dropping down when they're directly over the pair, dropping down between the two men. The movement is a flurry of action that Batman has no trouble tracking. Nightwatch rises up, curling an arm around the neck of the man behind them, an elbow driven up into the diaphragm even as they mulekick the dealer in the solar plexus, sending them flying back into the sad little chainlink fence around the lot. A quick, sharp blow to the face for the user sends them to the ground, out of commission but not permanently damaged. Bell rung, they'll be able to get up in a few minutes.. should be just in time for the cops to arrive and take him into custody.

The dealer isn't so lucky. straightening up, Nightwatch launches off the planted foot on the ground, following the dealer into the fence and clotheslining the man as he bounces off the chainlink and straight into their path. Thrown to the pavement, Nightwatch is there, kneeling over them, one boot on a shoulder, the other knee on the ground with the calf and foot thrown over the man's thigh. He can struggle, but it's going to be painful if he does.

"You have two options. Tell me where the distribution center is and I'll just leave you bagged and gagged. Make me pull it from you and you might be eating out of a straw." The voice is modified (poorly) through a cheap vocorder, coming through almost robotic.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Batman moves when Nightwatch does, but with far more care spent to remaining out of sight and his landing is barely a whisper against the sudden combat. The rattle of a chainlink fence, the grunts of expulsed air when they kick the pusher in the chest. Brutally efficient.

The Dark Knight watches the sudden shift of odds into their favor.

Cold blue eyes track the vigilantes movements. They're eager. Young. Sloppy. But only in a way that Batman would even notice. He's honed his craft over decades, perfected his technique amongst the worst the city (and the world) has to offer. Few would notice simple mishaps. Most wouldn't fault Nightwatch.

They would be wrong not to.

They send the first of the pair smashing into a trashcan with an over head punch that should have run his bell. It did. Just not as completely as they thought, nor was he unarmed. His hand was snaking into his coat while the costumed hero was questioning his cohort. He may be seeing double, but the clip has fifteen rounds in it.

None of them ever go off.

A heavy booted foot kicks forward knocking the gun away.

The owner of that foot slips back into the shadow as the former gun wielding goomba pushes to his feet, rushing at Nightwatch from behind. He's even more sloppy, trying to take advantage of their attention on the drug pusher, it likely wouldn't have worked. It doesn't matter. When he swings, a massive hand drops down to catch it, pushing him back as Batman steps inbetween Nightwatch. "Answer her." He growls. Then stalks forward towards the man trying to scamper away.

He wont get far until he hits the brick wall of Gotham Arms Tavern and throws a punch at the Dark Knight.

It hits.

Batman dips his head fractionally. Enough that the hardest part of his head, covered in the hardest part of his cowl, is right in line with the blow. The puncher howls in agony. "Hurts doesn't it? Metacarpals. They call it a boxers fracture." His fist closes around the mans injured fist and squeezes. You can actually hear the bones breaking. "Hope you can write with your left hand."

Zoe Mills has posed:
Nightwatch can't help but hear the scuffle behind them, especially when Batman speaks. There's no mistaking THAT voice. Not the first time she's heard it, though it's the first time this close. Applying a little pressure to the dealer's groin, they stay focused. "Address. NOW." The boot on the dealer's shoulder drives the tip in right against the socket, threatening to slowly, painfully pop the joint out of place.

There's a yelp of pain from the man, then a growl as he tries to bluff it out. "I don't know what you're talkin' bout, ya crazy fucks! Lemme go! I got powerful friends!" He tries to struggle, but it only increases the painful pressure at shoulder and groin, making him howl again.

"See, this only gets worse from here.." Nightwatch applies more pressure with the boot at the shoulder, the pop is audible, quickly followed by a scream from the dealer. "I got aaaaaaaaall night man. You really wanna find out how many joints this works on?" That semi-robotic voice is growing harsher, angrier. "ADDRESS."

Batman's target squeals a high-pitched shriek when the Bat's hand closes around his fractured fingers and starts to squeeze. The audible cracks as gruesome to hear as it might seem. "I don't know! I don't know shit, man! I just needed a fix! I don't know where it comes from! Please! I swear, I won't take another hit, just stop! AHH!" He's not LYING perse, but he's not giving the whole truth. He knows something. More than he's telling. He's also afraid, deeply afraid of the consequences of saying what he knows.

The dealer is shrieking at the shoulder that's now out of socket as Nightwatch uses the other foot to forcethe leg into an unnatural position that can't feel good. "Do I go for the hip? GIVE ME AN ADDRESS!" They seem determined to pick the criminal apart a limb at a time until they get the information they want.

Both men are in extreme pain, but also deeply terrified of what will be done to them if they talk. That said, properly applied pain is an excellent motivator, and both seem close to breaking. Just one more properly applied painful action should do it.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It's always the same.

They plead. They beg. They curse. They swear they don't know anything. They claim that if they say, so much worse will happen to them. They always talk. It is no secret that Batman wont kill them and to the young criminals of Gotham, they assume that means he's less threatening than the people they work for. What they learn, what they always learn, is that it's a long rode of broken bones that leads to dying. More than one criminal has learned to use their other hand after denying information to the Bat. More than one wears knee braces for the rest of their life.

What he does, it's dark. It's a necessary darkness because Gotham City is an unnecessarily dark place. Full of the worst petty criminals and the most terrifying villains. Perhaps not in the galaxy, but it's hard to cast the votes on the who has it worse criminal scale when the results always line up to what Batman wants.

And what he wants right now is answers.

He glances back at the man laid upon by Nightwatch, claiming he knows nothing. Then to the one clutching his fist to his chest when the hand uncurls from around his broken knuckles. "Funny." He says this in a way that does not emply any humor. "I've seen you moving through the streets for your fix, Douglas Mans." He uses the junkies name. Kneeling down in front of him, staring through him with those intense blue eyes shadowed by his cowl and the darkness of the flickering lights in the alleyway.

"Three different pushers in three weeks." Arms laid on his thighs, glaring. Until his hand snaps out, pulling his eyelid down with his thumb. Fighting off attempts to dislodge the monster of a Dark Knight from gripping his face. "Your eyes are not pinpoint... no track marks." Palm against his forehead, pushing it against the wall, easily holding him there despite the broken fist and feeble swats against his finned gauntlet. "You haven't smoked anything for weeks. So.." Cowl tilts, "Talk." Squeezing, thumb and pinky pressing into his temple. He wont kill him.

But he will hurt him real bad.

Zoe Mills has posed:
Nightwatch doesn't pretend to be in the same league as Batman. They aren't. Sure, there's been training. They've learned things. Watched how the various vigilantes of the city handle things, seen how they operate. Modified those to suit their own preferences and specialties. But they aren't Batman. They just want to make things better for their community, and are willing to get dirty to do it.

When means when the dealer tries to claim ignorance again, Nightwatch has no more patience for them. Leaning their weight into the boot at the apex of thigh and groin, the dealer gets to hear and feel the slow, agonizing separation of femur from pelvis. Tendons creak and muscles scream. POP! Another round of pain floods in, leaving the dealer screaming.

"I know you know, Jacko! You're not just some powder-slinger, you're in charge on the mules and street hustlers. YOU give them the goods, YOU tell them where to go. Now tell me where YOU go." THe harsher the voice gets, the more the vocorder crackles and squeaks, adding to the menace of the robotic nature of it. "You're already down and arm and a leg, wanna see how many more pieces you can lose?"

Doug's eyes widen when Batman calls him out by name. He knew taking on this job was going to be dangerous, but not Batman knowing him on a first name basis sort of dangerous! The added pain of applied pressure to his temple combined with the fear of the Bat gets him talking. "I don't know where it came from!" Wide eyes meet Batman's, "But I know where it's going! We got a big shipment that's going to the water treatment plant! Two days from now, 2am! I don't know what it's for, I only know we're contracted to dump about 50 kilos into the plant's treatment system! That's all I got!!" NOW he's telling the truth.

As for Jacko, he screams out as the second joint is slowly separated, the tearing pain of it finally overriding his better judgment. "Ace Chemicals! Sublevel 2!! Scarecrow's taken it over since Joker's been layin' low! AH FUCK! He's been havin' us dose water supply depots all over town, we're hittin' the big score in two days, dumpin' the final load into the treatment plant!" Corroboration. Nightwatch growls and hauls Jacko up by his coat, wrnching both arms behind him to the sound of a scream for the dislocated shoulder, ziptying him to one of the posts on the chainlink fence. Patting him down, they come up with the baggie of drugs that was being passed from one to the other, and a gun, which gets quickly unchambered, clip emptied and tossed aside with the gun sent in the opposite direction. The bullets are dumped into a trashcan. Someone that finds it is going to have to work to make it whole again.

Turning towards Batman, Nightwatch holds out the baggie, "I don't have the resources to type it, and this is way out of my league. I'll alert the Bowery businesses, the people. Get some bottled water trucked in from Metropolis until the depots can get cleaned."

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Batman is showing a level of trust in Nightwatch that might not seem it on the surface. He's not interrupting what she's doing and he has her back to her attempts to get information from Jacko. It's as good as it gets with the Dark Knight, who continues to apply pressure to Doug's cranium until the information flows like water from his agonized mouth.

Only then does he release that pressure and slam his palm flat against the mans face to bounce his head off the brick wall. NOW his bell is run... and his arms are bound.

Batman stands, shadowy, huge. Glancing back at Nightwatch over his shoulder covered in the thick cape that very much resembles a bats leathery wings in the drizzling rain and darkness. He doesn't turn to face her immediately. Just watches, several seconds. Blue eyes hidden behind a white lense set inside his cowl.

When he turns, there's something in his hand.

A grapple gun. It's an older model, but updated from the one she currently carries. Hanging at his side as he steps closer, over Douglas' legs, to within striking distance of the younger vigilante. The lense in his cowl pull back into the sides of the occular segment of his cowl... and his hand extends out to her, grapplegun in palm. The other hand is empty. Accepting the baggie, which disappears into one of the pockets of his utility belt. He'll run it through an analyser later tonight. Formulate a counter incase any of it has made it into the water supply. "Good." He grunts at her, nodding.

He doesn't say good work.

He just waits for her to take the grapplegun and then fires his own into the air and ascends into the dark sky with a rustle of fabric. Landing on the ledge of the roof peering down at her. Another nod and he's making his way to the Batmobile, parked further down the block.

She's fully on his radar now.

Zoe Mills has posed:
Doug and 'Jacko' are both down and out, tied up and left for the cops to pick up. Nightwatch watches Batman's approach, nodding as they hand over the baggie to him. The grapple gun gets a lifted brow, but is taken with a nod. "If this gets bigger, you know where I am."

Not expecting any sort of protracted interaction, Nightwatch is not surprised that he doesn't stick around. He never does. But he upgraded her grapple gun! And that's no small thing for her! She replaces the one in her holster and watches as his grapples away.

Once he's out of earshot, Nightwatch lets out a whoosh of a breath and mutters, "Fuck.. survived first encounter." Then there's a straightening of head and shoulders and Nightwatch is running towards the motorcycle tucked away in an alley. Work to be done! Nigthwatch can't do much about the bottled water... but Zoe Mills can.

Taking off on the bike to their 'secret base' so Zoe Mills can start making calls and getting things set up to make sure their neighborhood doesn't fall prey to whatever Scarecrow is up to. And to try and alert as many other contacts as possible to start organizing wider efforts to keep the city on bottled water until the threat has passed.