18486/Hunting Questions

Hunting Questions
Date of Scene:	02 July 2024
Location:	Alley
Synopsis:	Question and Huntress meet up on the job. Work together for the greater good
Cast of Characters:	Vic Sage, Helena Bertinelli

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Vic Sage has posed:
     It's dark, but is always seems to be dark in Gotham, even if it was in the middle of the day. As the clocktower strikes 11pm, a rather unique squats on the rooftop just off an alley that face one of Gotham's rundown apartment buildings. The wind that always seems to be blowing, especially higher up, billows out the large overcoat worn by The Question, his hat currently pulled low masking the lack of face, even if one were to look up and see him at his perch. In one gloved hand he holds a pair of binoculars as he watches a particular lighted window in the apartment building across the way, the other holding a pen as he scribbles notes in some form of shorthand.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
The clink of a grappling hook on the lip of the roof comes behind the Question. Rear of the building, near the left corner, just above a disreputable alleyway where it isn't hard to, say, stash a motorcycle behind a rusted out old dumpster. Huntress didn't have Batman's infinite budget, for either security or replacement. She needed that bike.

She pulls herself up, crossbow strapped to her back, just beneath her cape. She's starting to move low towards the observation point when she finds it already occupied by the faceless man.

"You're after Jimmy Sauvage, too, huh?"

Vic Sage has posed:
     He doesn't even have to turn. He knew the particular sound of the type of hook that she uses, and her voice is unmistakable. Still The Question lowers the binoculars from his face and turns to look back over his shoulder.

     "Huntress."

     He raises the spyglasses to his 'eyes' again and looks back to the building in question. "Seems like. Part time mob enforcer, part time kidnapper, all the time scum. Rumor has it he's grabbed a kid this time. Trying to ransom them off for money the family just doesn't have. I'm waiting for him to lead me to where she's stashed. What's your angle?"

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
"His brother had a bad encounter with me in Sicily," says the Huntress. Her voice is hushed, low. Wouldn't matter if someone was trying to overhear. If she's shouting, someone's blood is being shed. The rest of the time, she tends to be on the quiet side.

"Victor sent his brother something. A set of codes to unlock a case, along with instructions the job is supposed to pay for. Business."

She frowns at the Question's description, "Sounds like he's getting out of control without his brother to keep him in check. Which will be hard to do from where he is, in traction across the Atlantic with an arrow wound in his gut."

Vic Sage has posed:
     The Question looks back over his shoulder at her again, the expression behind the faceless mask impossible to read. "He's still alive huh?"

     He lifts up his hand and offers the binoculars over towards Huntress, "Case you're looking for, does it look anything like the one on the desk? Fourth floor, third apartment from the left. Can't really miss the shit-colored drapes. I can practically smell the filth and decay from here. You would think the mob would pay there guys better, even the part timers."

     He looks over to Huntress fully now, "You look good."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
She frowns, "Not my preference. But I am attempting to show an element of mercy, to improve cooperation with other vigilantes," she says. "Besides, he fell off the roof. I didn't push him."

She takes the binoculars in a leather gloved hand, black lined with purple. "Jimmy's a headcase. You don't dump money down a steaming manhole. It just gets covered in shit. That must be why he's so desperate for money. He's cut off, at least until he does something to earn his way back in. That takes money."

She hands back the binoculars. "I know," she says, keeping her face infuriatingly placid. "You look the same."

Vic Sage has posed:
     The Question snorts once at her answer in regards to Victor, a little shake of his head. "It's a start," he expresses, and one can almost see the smile under the mask.

     As she takes the binoculars in hand, The Question writes down a couple more notes into the pad nestled on his leg, and the stashes it away in one of the pockets of his coat, along with the pen. "That tracks. Desperate men are dangerous men. When he finds out he isn't getting paid, he's likely to loose it." He looks over to Huntress, "What was your plan with him? I'll help you with the case, but I need him alive and able to talk if we are going to find where he stashed the kid."

     The Question shrugs, "I think I gained a couple pounds."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
"Muscle or fat?" she asks, reaching out to pat the Question on the midsection.

"Two choices: either I take him apart and shake him down for the location. Or I plant a tracker on him and follow him to see if he meets anybody along the way to pick it up from the dead drop they're using in Bludhaven," she says. "If there's a hostage, obviously, that complicates things. She on site or does he have her stashed?" she asks.

"I'm sure you have twelve other options, all of them very thoughtful."

Vic Sage has posed:
     He looks over at her with that blank face as she pats his midsection and snorts. "I'm not sure I want to dignify that with a response." A beat. "Fat. I've been....lax in my routine. I need to workout more."

     The Question looks back over to the building as Huntress runs down her two plans of attack and lets out a "Hrm." He stews on it for a moment and offers, "Third option, I go to the door and distract him while you sip into his place and get the case and see if there is anything relevant to where he might have the kid. Storage locker receipt, a flyer for a place that just doesn't fit...anything that just feels 'off'. When he heads back up he'll likely panic that the case isn't there and fall onto whatever plan B he has, which I am taking an educated guess is the kid."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
"Of course you have. You may be Zen, but you're terrible at being a monk. It's amazing you became a martial artist with so little discipline," she says. She's teasing. Mostly.

She considers his opinion, her dark-painted lips a thin line. "Might work. So you're just going to knock on his door. Looking like that. Is he supposed to think you're a Seventh Day Adventist?" she asks.

"If I find the girl, I'll take her out with me."

Vic Sage has posed:
     "My discipline is just fine," gravels The Question from behind his mask as he stands from his squatted position. "I blame the Chocos, it's obviously their fault, not mine." He looks over at The Huntress and she can almost see the grin he is giving her behind that mask of his.

     He looks towards the apartment building once more and shrugs a shoulder. "Like this, of as Sage. Either works, one less likely to raise suspicion, one more likely to induce confusion. Both have merits, and flaws. Still debating which has a higher probability for success. Your preference?"

     "I'd expect nothing less, if she's there. Doubtful though."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Huntress is already moving into action, "Make up your mind fast. I'll wait for your cue," she says. She tosses an earpiece to the Question, puts a matching one into hers.

Her dark hair catches in the air, sweeping behind her as she drops down the ropeline she left, landing on her feet and starting to sprint through the back alleys and the shadows towards Jimmy Sauvage's dirtbag hideout. Purple and black, she merges easily with the shadows, as if she were born to them. In a way, she was.

For all she teases Sage, Helena has confidence in his abilities. They've always worked well together. It's the personal part that's complicated.

Vic Sage has posed:
     "And she says I'm undisciplined." The Question says teasingly to the ether as he hops over the lip of the roof and uses the fire escape to make his way down to the streets below.
     In the alley, Question triggers the switch on his belt buckle and covering the alley in smoke, emerging from the mouth on the other side as Vic. Gone is the faceless mask and brighter colored clothing replaced with his regular Ginger features and more subdued looking attire. He slips the earbud in and makes for the apartment building.
     In moments, investigative reporter Vic Sage stands at the door of one Jimmy Sauvage's residence, and a gloved hand raises up to rap on the door. "Go time." *KNOCK*

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Huntress has made her way to the back window of the residence. She waits until she hears the grumbling swearing of Jimmy getting his ass off the couch. The scumbag is half-stoned and three quarters drunk, probably wiping away his woes after hearing about what happened to his brother.

The would-be hitman and lowlife has a pistol shoved down the back of his sweatpants as he answers the door, pulling it open in a wifebeater, stinking of booze, cigarettes and day old Chinese food on his breath.

"What you want, fool?"

Vic Sage has posed:
     Vic smiles a gleaming smile at the man standing in the doorway in front of him, shoving forward into his face a random pamphlet he grabbed from the hallway outside. "Do you believe in a higher power, sir? One that looks over and watches your life, knowing all the ills and tribulations that befall you? One whose guiding hand would forever change the course of your existence? I'm with the Five Freedoms of Resurrection Mission Church! I've come to share the good news! If you'll only give me a minute of your time, I can change your life around. The poor and meek do inherit the kingdom of God, but what if those riches untold could be yours now for just a small, pitiful donation of one hundred United States dollars..."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli hears the cover that Vic is using and can't help but grin. Seems he took her suggestion. "I was joking, you know," she mutters into the commpiece in a low-pitched whisper.

Jimmy's not the most creative guy, so it doesn't take long until she finds the package he got from his brother, shoved up under the bed. She takes the letter with the code and location of the briefcase full of money, along with the details of the assassination. Commissioner Gordon? Really? Sauvage couldn't pull that off on his best day.

So maybe Jimmy was only courier. Maybe the real assassin was still out there.

"Get the fuck outta here, pal, before I boot yer ass!" Jimmy snarls, trying to slam the door in Vic's face.

Vic Sage has posed:
     A well placed foot blocks the door from closing.

     "Sir, I implore you, before it is too late! The end times are upon us! The kingdom of God is at hand! Repent your ways before an angel of vengeance comes to strike the down for all of thine wickedness!"

     Vic subtly looks over Jimmy's shoulder to check on Huntresses' progress. "I fear for you sir...the prophets...they show me visions of purple and black in your future. A fury that rivals hell to be rained down upon you! Repent. Repent I say!"

     Vic continues to wave the pamphlet, which is for the corner taco joint, in front of Jimmy's face like some form of low rent snake charmer. Focus here, numbnuts.

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli tries not to let Vic distract her too much, although the rant definitely has its high points. Stuffing the documents away, she pushes the box back where it was and slides back out of the window. She may take a very large bag of marijuana with her that was under the bed, too. Wasted on that pillhead anyway.

Once she's out, she mutters into the comm "All clear", if Vic can hear her over the sound of her own voice as she retreats, "Meet back at the roof."

Vic Sage has posed:
     Jimmy has had enough, and shoves Vic from the door, "I said get the fuck out! I'll fucking kill you, you motherfucker!" *SLAM* Vic smirks as he picks himself up form the floor of the hallway, brushing himself off. He sticks the flyer onto the door by sliding it into the tacked on number. "But I was just getting to the best part...taco Tuesday," he mutters with a grin.

     Vic slips back out of the apartment the way he came, via the front door, and on his way back towards the alley a billow of smoke-like gas envelops him once more, leaving the Question to emerge from the other side.

     BAck on the roof, The Question shrugs a shoulder, "I tried to warn him. I don't think he listened."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
"Can't blame yourself. You'd have gotten me to take a pamplet, at least," she says.

"Money's stashed in a locker at the Gotham subway, the Chelsea stop. Target's Jim Gordon. I think Jimmy's just an in-between. Doesn't say who the real assassin is," she says.

"Oh, and I put a tracer on his car. Should lead us right to wherever he's got the girl stashed, whenever he bolts. Which probably won't be till morning, given how empty that whiskey bottle was."

Vic Sage has posed:
     "Well, something tells me he is going to regret that decision." The Question mumbles as he looks over towards the apartment building. "Those angels of vengeance in their purple and black can be real bitches," he teases, looking over her way.

     "Gordon? Yea, there is no way this clown is getting anywhere close to Gordon. Well, no money, no contract. I'd say we go warn him, but he would just waves us off and say something like if he didn't have a contract out on his life, he wasn't doing his job. Solid cop, one of the few."

     The later news makes him grunt as he checks the watch on the underside of his wrist. "Gives us a few hours. I don't like the thought of a little girl sitting alone in the dark somewhere for a few hours. Doesn't sit well."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli considers, crossing her arms over her chest, "I suppose, maybe, we could...get some coffee or...talk for a while," she says.

Helena doesn't always do social well. She's just not the friendly type, unless you're a student or a victim. Most people she sees as annoyances more than anything.

She and Vic, however, had a thing for a while. A complicated thing. "We'll get her," she reassures. "Just a matter of time."

Vic Sage has posed:
     Vic nods, "Doesn't mean I have to fuckin like it."

     He sighs, lowering himself to take a seat on the roof, taking a pebble from the rooftop and tossing it against he ac unit. "How have you been, H? It's....been a while."

Helena Bertinelli has posed:
Helena Bertinelli shrugs slightly, "How am I ever? Angry, Vic. I'm always going to be angry. I thought I would get it out of my system eventually. But the deeper I dig, the more blood I spill...the more people I find in need of a good hunt," she says.

"Also, summer break, so at least I don't have to grade any papers," she mutters.