18259/Kicking Down Scarecrow's Door

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Kicking Down Scarecrow's Door
Date of Scene: 22 June 2024
Location: Abandoned Ace Chemicals Warehouse
Synopsis: Batman and Red Hood partner up to take down the Scarecrow! After some proselytic monologuing, Crane goes quietly. Too quietly.
Cast of Characters: Zoe Mills, Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd




Zoe Mills has posed:
Ace Chemicals.

Normally this place would fall under the Joker's purview, but in times when he's at Arkham or otherwise laying low, it can fall into other hands. At least for a time. This time, it's Scarecrow that's made use of the abandoned plant, using the existing equipment to bake up his latest batch of toxins to bring Gotham City to its knees! The plot has been enacted in secrecy, only a random encounter in an empty parking lot to break up a 'drug deal' revealing the larger plan in place. There will be time enough tomorrow night to halt the poisoning of the water supply, but tonight, there's a mastermind to deal with.

The night is hot and muggy, the proximity to the water driving up the humidity, the thick of summer ensuring that ir maintains temperature until well after midnight. The usual sounds of the city can be heard, if faintly, this block far less likely to have a presence on it, thanks to the supervillains that tend to lay claim to the area.

The plant looks deserted as always, only the keen senses of Gotham's vigilantes able to pick out the well-hidden lookouts posted around the exterior. There's no less than six on the exterior, all in hiding of some kind or another, and all with a panic button nearby to alert those within of possible incursion.

The question is.. will they get to use them?

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It's always Ace Chemicals.

All of the rogues of Gotham are clinically insane and because of this are naturally drawn to certain patterns of behavior that grows increasingly predictable once you know them well enough. Batman knows each of them extensively. Some of them because he's delt with them for years, some of them because he's done his homework on new faces that seem to spring up almost over night.

Jonnathan Crane is no new face.

He is, arguably, one of the most dangerous of the regular round table of psychos that make Gotham their home. Where all of them are, to some extent or another, quite intelligent, Crane's understanding and mastery of fear itself has caused more than one incident to turn upon it's head.

He also tends to surround himself with more capable associates. Violent... perhaps not well trained, but certainly seasoned. His intentions always pay, when they succeed. He's no Joker. Joker will kill them just because they're there to die if he finds humor in it.

Batman watches them from the shadows of a nearby perch. Having shared the information with one of his protiges, one who has dealt with Crane before... he's called upon The Red Hood.

<<"Right.">> Is all he says, trusting the former Robin to understand the tactics he intends to employ.

The snap hiss of his grapple hits the building directly above two hidden lookouts and anchors him in a swing in, wrapping the one of the left of the pair in his cape and disappearing with a whining curl of fiber cable into the launching mechanism when it hurls them both upwards. A hand clasped over the mans mouth, arm tightening around the sides of his neck.

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood scowls inside his mask. It's his resting bastard face, to be honest, but it deepens for a moment on hearing Batman's voice. Some habits are hard to break. The vigilante is no longer the boss of him, yet he still is. Damn it. It's only a fleeting grumble of thought before the night goes into motion.

<Copy.> Neither of them are filled of words tonight. The situation isn't one to be handled glibbly. Those team members are all off... glibbing someplace else.

Breaking cover of shadow, Red Hood closes in on the facility while taking advantage of the abundance of piping and storage tanks to close on his first target. Stepping up behind the lookout in silence, he raises one of his pistols. The silenced weapon emits a muted 'phut!' sound and the lookout goes down with a tazer round between the shoulderblades and Red Hood disappears into the shadow to close on his next mark.

Zoe Mills has posed:
Caught unaware, flat-footed, the goon on the left is only just starting to rise from his crouched position when Batman sends that cape whirling around him. An arm around his throat, the man is pulled suddenly off his feet and into the air, away from the panic button that would likely make this whole endeavor much more difficult for the duo. Rather than panicking, however, this goon is indeed a bit more seasoned than most of the canon fodder hired on by the city's psychotic villains. More than that, he has a level of intelligence.

Flexing at his neck as best he can, pressing against the arm around him, he struggles to work a hand down towards his pocket, seeking a switchblade that could be used to cut through the cape and free himself. It's a race against the clock as he's hoisted up by his neck and held snugly by the cape, if he can manage to reach it in time. The odds, however, are not in his favor as his struggling is easily noticed.

Back at the plant, the lookout left for Red Hood has enough time to leap to his feet, one hand reaching for the panic button, the other for his earpiece so he can give a verbal alert to Batman's presence on the ground. Both hands halt at the mid-way point as the taser round hits him and the shock of electricity sent through the goon is enough to have his fingers twitching, the muscles in his face ticcing as he gives out a small 'hrk!' before his legs give out and spill him back to the floor of their little 'hideout' tucked in amongst the pipes and stacks.

He might be back in the game in a few minutes, but it will be far too late by then to sound the alarm. Doing so may actually make things easier on the duo, in fact, depending on how brazen they want to be once they're inside!

There's others out there, of course, but they're stationed elsewhere along the exterior, each pair set to face a specific direction to keep watch on. Batman and Red Hood are able to open a way for themselves within a matter of seconds, allowing them to slip inside the plant. Knowledge of the plant's set up suggests that Crane is likely to be in the labs, overlooking production of his precious toxins. THat will place him at the back of the plant; in rooms that, at one time, were considered clean rooms. If he's smart (and he is), he'll likely have those systems up and running again. Creating a 'lair' for himself that will be more difficult to break into, and surrounded by waves of goons to get through before he can be reached.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Batman picks up on the struggling instantly and, once they've reached a perch above the point of extraction, slaps his hand down on the arm to pin it against the goons side. The tightening of neck muscles is, at best, a stalling technique to someone as well trained in martial arts as Bruce. While he takes no pleasure, at least not outwardly, to what he does, there is a sense of professionalism about him. Every bit of his body is a weapon, the cape makes movement almost impossible with the weighted ends dangling over the goon like a lead net, but it's the whipping of his head around to use the armored cowl like a bludgeoning weapon. Against the mans temple, smack, then a twist of his body to release the grapple from the device and link it around the goons ankles to let him dangle unconscious.

Just barely out of sight.

Batman is already using the opening to slip further into the plant that he knows almost as well as his own home. No rushing. The patrols move, Batman slips between them from shadow to shadow. A draped shadow, passing between equally dark shadows in the machinary.

Until he spies the hordes of goons positioned around where he suspects Crane to have set up his lair. Large group engagements, contrary to what the movies might suggest, are not so easy. It requires cunning and deception. both of which are Batman's stock and trade.

<<"On my smoke.">>

The words come and he trusts that Jason will follow.

Hurling capsules out with a jerk of his wrist to send a dozen small rolling balls in amongst the horde where it can errupt into a thick cloud of smoke. Cowl switching to a more appropriate visual spectrum as he wades into the mix. Pushing his shoulder into the lower abdomen of one of the bigger goons to hoist up on his shoulders, turn, and hurl him like a massive log at another two. Cape sweeping and swinging to fan the smoke around himself in a cyclone that adds to the distractive nature of the otherwise simple technique. drawing attention to turn it away from Jason's position.

Jason Todd has posed:
The lookout may be back in a short time. Will he be able to see straight or use fine motor skills for a while longer or get his tongue to cooperate with forming words; well. Some things just take time after a capacitor discharges its entire voltage payload one's body in under a millisecond. He'll be dealth with again if necessary.

Red Hood isn't lingering just in case the guy stirs, the mission is all that matters. One thing a person never forgets is their training; not when it's more grueling than any special forces unit could ever dream up. It's the same life or death scenario without the death, these days. It means Red Hood knows exactly what Batman is conveying.

Pausing long enough to draw both pistols. A flick of switches lets him connect the two in-line and create a high tech carbine sized assault rifle with an extended barrel. The scope connects into a link in his armor and projects the aiming right into his mask's optics. Activating thermal, he can easily see Batman's form doing what he does best. Chaos, punishment and justice in concert.

As that dance continues, Red Hood's vantage allows him to begin picking off stragglers on the eddge of the billowing smokescreen. In this area of the plant, the number of reinforcements wading into the smoke begins to diminish as quickly as the melee partners Batman has to address.

Emptying two clips, Red Hood goes into motion, dropping down as the guns are detatched once more and resume life as pistols and blugeoning weapons. And they say GunKata is not a real thing.

Zoe Mills has posed:
Stalling, indeed. With his attempt to reach the blade in his pocket foiled, all the man can do is struggle and flex his neck, trying to crane around and struggle against the implacable grip he's in. And even that is about to halt as the armored cowl comes in to connect and leave the man thoroughly unconscious. Hoisted up and left hanging by his ankles, the unconscious goon sways slightly in the still of the night while the Dark Knight continues on.

Red Hood will find his path into the plant relatively easy, only need to stay out of sight of the cameras placed here and there, and two roving patrols. No sweat for him, of course, to make his way through and in, avoiding the security measures like one might avoid clipping the furniture in one's house. Able to have his pick of vantage points as the bulk of the Scarecrow's goons post up around the lab that holds one Jonathan Crane.

Batman gets the ball(s) rolling with the giant cloud of smoke that offers excellent cover, his cowl negating the obscuring effects as he swings into the thick of it. The alarm sounds, alerting one and all to the incursion, albeit not to the precise location of the duo. Still, they can expect to be joined by more goons if they can't reach Scarecrow soon enough. It's enough to suggest they'll want to make quick work of the sea of mercenaries, thugs, and brutes between them and Crane.

Red Hood is posted up and ready for those reinforcements starting to make their way into the space. Picking them off as if they were little more than tin targets at a carnival shooting range. Body after body jolts and drops in a jittery dance of electricity overload as he continues to make shot after shot. Once the flow of new thugs slows to a halt, he's free to engage into the melee.

Just as he hits the cloud of thick smoke, a sound comes from overhead.

klk-kaCHUNK-whhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

An overhead fan stirs to life and begins to suck that smoke up into the vent. They have the advantage for now, it will take maybe 20-30 seconds for that fan to really work up to full speed, but they certainly have a time limit before their biggest advantage is gone.

And still, bodies fall one after the other outside the lab, while one be-hooded Dr. Jonathan Crane continues to calmly go about his work. He's well known for his chemical genius and his cleverness. Surely he hasn't left all his eggs in the goon basket, right? Not against Batman and Red Hood.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
Batman rarely keeps all his chickens in one roost either.

His grapple points upwards at one of the giant ceiling fans, firing off a hook between the slowly spinning blades which wraps the coiled fiber optic cable up, slowly tightening the line. A line connected to the grapple gun itself, which he hooks on the weapon harnass of one of the weapon wielding goons between himself and Crane's roost. The blades pick up speed, though that wire will make things slower for sure, and pull the goon right out of Bruce's way as he calmly walks past into the spreading shadows that are starting to coil upwards.

Someone spies him. They spy a silhouette and come in swinging with a metal baton, but he catches it in the fins of his gauntlet, jerks his arm down, and kicks the wielder in the chest. Foot slamming forward hard enough to knock the window out of his lungs and his legs out from under him in a half backflip that leaves the goon crumpled upside down, folded in half, on the grates.

Another comes at him from the other side.

Bruce ducks, bending forward with his right arm slapping out to slam his fist into the man's stomach. It knocks him off balance, at least enough to carry him off his feet when the Batman stands and uses his shoulder like a battering ram. Then another from straight ahead. Batman dips to the side, weight on his left leg, duck and weave, to slam his right hand so hard into the side of the man's face that he folds over on his shoulder.

Never once stopping his forward motion towards the stairs leading up to where Crane is busy working on the console. Anyone who comes up behind him, but isn't close enough to touch (or be touched by) him, he trusts Jason to take care of. Not even looking back.

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood moves in and begins batting clean up and keeps Batman's blind side (proverbially that is) clear. A few taser shots, a bit of pistol whipping. Some armored knee and elbow pads to soft goon body parts. He isn't limiting himself to one tactic. It's one part, a reflection of the chaos in his mind, and one part to keep attackers guessing.

<Nice.> is all he comments to the goon being used to stop the blower fan from eliminating the smoke screen as easily.

One large goon comes in from his own blind side and tries to tackle him. Staggered two steps, Red Hood bends over and wraps a gun holding fist around the goon's neck to pull and flip him onto the floor. It's a momentary struggle before he stands up and fires three taser rounds into the goon's chest. He asked for it.

Zoe Mills has posed:
That cable twisting around the fan blades is going to slow things down for sure. It doesn't halt the fan entirely, at least not yet, but it will give them the extra time they need to wade through the last of the goons before they can tackle the goldfish bowl Crane has sequestered himself into. Speaking of which, the one attached to the cable yelps as he's hoisted up into the air to collide with the grate that covers the fan blades, denting it but not breaking it thankfully (for the goon, anyways).

Red Hood wades into the pool of remaining goons, taking down the bull rushing bad guys with a combination of small arms fire and hand to hand tactics that leave the cleanup pile just that much larger. The odd goon that does manage to get close enough to attempt hitting him usually ends up howling with pain as the pistols catch them in the face, or if they manage to connect, with the pain of a fist hitting the metal mask. But then, lets face it, those that are left are probably not the smartest of the hirelings. They're the ones that are willing to rush in even when their compatriots have fallen.

Approaching the lab, it's easy enough to see that there are indeed additional security measures protecting Scarecrow from Gotham's Elite. Not only is the space sealed to airborne contaminants, it's own air source fed from a separate location, the same with the HVAC that keeps that air circulating, the glass is bulletproof, and there seems to be nozzles that feed back up into the ceiling and around to whatever canisters they're hooked up to inside the lab.

Crane holds up one finger to the approaching Dark Knight as he types in a few last commands on the keyboard. Turning around, that burlap mask concealing the man's features as he offers a placid smile towards Batman and Red Hood. "Good evening! I thought you might be joining me at some point, though you *are* a little early, more's the pity. But, I think I've managed to come up with a fun little diversion all the same, since you've ruined the fun I had planned. How would you like to be the test subjects for my newest serum! I was going to test on it on the hired hands, but since they're incapacitated, I suppose I'll just have to try it out on the pair of you and collect my data that way." Clapping his hands and rubbing them together, Scarecrow grins, "Now! Shall we begin?" A button is pressed.. and the nozzles begin to seep with some sort of airborne toxin...

Bruce Wayne has posed:
One last goon has the courage to come at the Dark Knight when he thinks he's got the upper hand, only he doesn't. Batman turns and straight kicks the man in the shine, both hands reaching out to grip both sides of his head when he stumbles forward, and swings with a PANG to bounce his face off a support beam. It's brutal, quick, but efficient. While he'll probably spit out a few teeth, he'll live to get replacements. And Batman has probably saved him from being one of Crane's unpaid test subjects.

Speaking of.

Batman comes up to the glass fishbowl where Scarecrow is pointing a finger up and back. Already a cartridge is loading gel into a small back fed delivery system, painting out a Bat-symbol on the glass, which though bullet proof, probably isn't tested for thermite. "Crane, I've considered the possibility that I've failed you." Batman is painting a bat-symbol with the thermite, reaching to his utility belt to fix a rebreather over his cowl before the pipes begin blowing in this new toxin the Scarecrow has, helpfully, informed him he intends to test on the pair.

It locks into place on his cowl, form a near perfect seal in the only open section of the costume and cowl. When he speaks, it's in a distant, echoed voice through the breathing device, "That I've given you some inclination that I don't care about your rehabilitation. That this is, somehow, the only way you can get my attention." Because what else could his purpose be? Scarecrow does what he does, Batman shows up and stops him. It's a tail as old as...

"Turn off the machine and I'll help you."

    "We don't have to keep doing this."

If (or probably when) the Scarecrow refuses, Batman will step back, ignite the thermite and blow the fishbowl.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason Todd catches up with Batman as the goons are cleaned up. He takes the opportunity to reload his pistols durning the lull in action.

Slowing as he catches up, he sees the explosive foam being sprayed and smriks to himself. The chest thumping boom was always a favorite of his.

As Crane starts rambling, Red Hood just shakes his head. His mask has a built in filtration and an oxygen supply. He isn't terribly worried. Glancing to Batman as he puts the rebreather on, "You know. If you'd just go to a full mask, you'd never have to worry about things like this. Or if you've got something in your teeth."

And there's the snark. Someone had to do it.

As if on cue, the moment he's finished speaking, the thermite goes off with that satisfying boom and some fun sparks that fizzle.

Zoe Mills has posed:
"Now why would I want to go and do that? The fun is just beginning!"

Perhaps predictably, Scarecrow has no intention of simply giving up. The nozzles continue to eke out an aerosol of some kind, no odor to identify it, at least none that gets past the filters in the rebreather. He does, however, seem terribly confident given that Batman and Red Hood seem to have the upper hand. Which itself should likely be cause for some bit of alarm.

Stepping back from the glass even as he declines to take up the offer presented, Scarecrow calmly presses another button and...

FSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!

A hard blast of steam hits the duo even as the fishbowl shatters and leaves Jonathan Crane completely exposed. He hits one last button on the laptop connected to the lab's systems, starting a cascade failure on the laptop in an attempt to erase the data before they can get to it.

"I've been giving a great deal of thought to the nature of fear, and the response to it. The fight or flight reflex. Trying different concoctions. You'll have to stop by in a few days and let me know how everything is progressing. I'll be most interested to see how your little family group reacts. Which of them will embrace the fear... and which will turn to rage. It will be quite intriguing to watch you all hunting each other across the city." Folding his hands behind his back, Scarecrow cocks his head to one side and waits, placid and making no attempt to get away or stop the pair from taking him into custody. Not even a little fight. Sorry Hood, maybe next time!

As he's lead out of the plant, still with that self-satisfied smile on his burlap cloaked mouth, the pair of them might begin to feel something. Just the tiniest little 'itch' at the base of the skull....