18971/There's Always a Bigger Fish

There's Always a Bigger Fish
Date of Scene:	02 September 2024
Location:	Boardwalk - St Martin's Island
Synopsis:	Jason takes Metropolis... underworld.
Cast of Characters:	Cole Cash, Jason Todd

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Cole Cash has posed:
Grifter maneuvered his motorcycle through the bustling streets of St. Martin's, the setting sun casting long shadows over the boardwalk. Despite the lively summer crowd, the boardwalk remained a hive of distractions, tourists shuffling between souvenir shops, couples strolling hand-in-hand, and kids darting between the lights of Funland's Ferris wheel. It was a stark contrast to the man he was tracking, Ron 'Soap' Johnson, who thrived in the underbelly of the city's chaos.

Soap had a habit of returning to St. Martin's Boardwalk on this exact date every year, the anniversary of his son's tragic drowning. Today, as always, he would blend into the crowd with unsettling ease, slipping between the seedy undercurrents of drug deals and gun trades. For a man who was essentially a ghost in the city's criminal network, Soap was paradoxically conspicuous, always drawn to the places where people were least likely to notice him. The boardwalk was an ideal backdrop for his latest rendezvous, a place with distractions aplenty.

Grifter's gaze swept over the boardwalk, noting the usual suspects; the aging arcade, the aromatic seafood eateries, and the ever-popular donut shop. He knew Soap was likely to exploit the boardwalk's atmosphere, hiding in plain sight while dealing with his usual shady contacts. The presence of so many people made it easy for Soap to slip through the cracks, which was exactly what made tracking him so infuriatingly difficult.

As Grifter approached the boardwalk's north end, the glow of Funland's neon lights danced across his face. His mind was sharp, and his senses honed to catch even the slightest deviation in the crowded scene. Tonight, the boardwalk's usual charm and chaos would serve as the perfect cover for Soap's next move, and Grifter was determined not to let the slippery criminal escape his grasp again.

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood didn't particularly care about Soap Johnson. Yes, he was deadling in illegal activities in Gotham, but it was a matter of lesser evils. Today Soap just happens to be a means to an end rather than his actual target.

Standing atop the Fun House, hidden in the shadows cast by the large laughing clown mouth, Red Hood watched the boardwalk himself. Positioned nearer the center of the strip of entertainment offerings, his optics slowly scanned the crowds. It was perfect Labor Day weekend weather. Just warm enough to allow for tee-shirts and shorts even after the sun began to drop lower in the sky.

As he observed the crowds, the display inside his mask flickered tracking boxes around the faces of a few street kids the database has active records on for criminal activites. All small fish.

Cole Cash has posed:
As Grifter moved through the crowd, he stayed focused on scanning faces for anything out of the ordinary. The boardwalk was packed, and the bright lights of the amusement spots created a constant swirl of neon. His thoughts were sharp . o ( Great, another day tracking a slippery criminal through a sea of vacationers. And look at these outfits, who even wears this much pastel )

Soap Johnson, meanwhile, was making his way towards a secluded spot near the old bandstand. He was on edge, aware of the stakes of his current deal but distracted by the festive atmosphere around him. He chose the location for its privacy but didn't realize how exposed he was. The crowd had thinned out around the bandstand, making it a prime spot for someone to watch him unnoticed.

Grifter, closing in on Soap's location, thought to himself . o ( Looks like I'm in for another round of cat and mouse. Soap's good at staying hidden, but so am I. ) He edged closer, ready to make his move, aware that the situation was about to get complicated.

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood's HUD (say that three times fast) can only scan so much area of the boardwalk and relies on faces to be largely turned in his direction for the software to make a match. It wasn't going to be that simple.

Reaching into his armored jacket, he pulls out a small case and slides the top open. Pressing a button inside, four micro drones power up and their link LEDs blink to confirm connection. A moment later, with small blades spinning, the four drones take to the air over the boardwalk and spread out to begin to scan across the crowds more effectively. It's just a few minutes later when his mask displays a match for Soap near the bandstand. Setting the drones to converge and monitor the area around the target, Red Hood begins to move across the rooftops. He had to reposition to get closer.

Cole Cash has posed:
Soap, oblivious to the dangers closing in on him, began to make his way closer to the bandstand, drawn by the promise of privacy. He adjusted his route slightly to avoid a group of tourists, inadvertently putting himself in a more exposed position. The crowd around him was thinning, making him an easier target for anyone who might be watching.

Grifter wove between clusters of people. He kept his eyes on the old bandstand, where he had spotted Soap moving. ( Great, Soap's making this easy ) O o . he thought, his focus sharp. He picked up the pace, eager to catch up before Soap could disappear again.

Grifter's eyes narrowed, "Perfect," he muttered. "Looks like he's heading right into a corner." He continued pushing through the crowd, aiming to stay out of Soap's line of sight while closing the distance. The scene was about to converge, and Grifter was determined to be ready for whatever happened next.

Jason Todd has posed:
Moving quickly across the top of the various buildings, Red Hood monitors Soap's location from his drones. One of them pings - a possible person of interest is in the crowd as well but the drone isn't in a position to get an ID on them yet but definitely worth keeping an eye on.

Stopping across from the bandstand Red Hood frowns. It isn't an ideal location. Too many rabbit holes for Soap to disappear through before he can close the distance. Dropping down into a space between buildings, Red Hood begins to purposefully stalk his way across the boardwalk to a sourvenier stand on the other side, closer to his target.

A large man slams into him then turns around to frown, "Yo. Hey watch where you're going to stupid moth..." as Red Hood half turns to glare at the man from inside that permenantly scowling mask, the guy stammers and holds his hands up as he sees the red Bat on the armor. "Uh.. uh... sorry.. No harm. excuse me.." he turns and begins to run the other direction, leaving his girlfriend and the others he was with behind to yell after him in annoyance.

Finishing his move across the boardwalk, Red Hood pauses to check the views from his drones. Batteries are down to 60. Won't have them a for a lot longer.

Cole Cash has posed:
Soap was about to finalize his meeting by the bandstand when he noticed a familiar face in the crowd. A burly man with a scarred face, a known associate of Intergang, stood a few feet away, eyeing him intently. Panic shot through Soap; Intergang had no business here, and their presence meant trouble. Without a second thought, Soap turned on his heel and began to push through the crowd, trying to lose himself among the tourists.

Grifter, still tracking Soap, saw the sudden shift in his target's behavior. "Looks like Soap's on the move," he muttered, quickening his pace. He followed Soap's path, weaving through the crowd and trying to keep him in sight. Grifter's instincts told him something had spooked Soap, now he just had to figure out what and stay close enough to capitalize on it.

Soap's desperation to escape led him to the less crowded side of the boardwalk. He kept glancing over his shoulder, his eyes scanning for both the Intergang thug and any potential exits. His heart raced as he ducked into an alleyway, hoping it would offer a temporary refuge.

Red Hood had just reached the souvenir stand when he Soap darted away. Grifter watched as Red Hood and Soap's paths intersected. ( Looks like I've got more than just Soap to worry about ) O o . he thought. He adjusted his route to keep an eye on both, figuring that Soap's sudden flight had just become even more complicated.

Jason Todd has posed:
Well that was unexpected. Not bad, mind. Just not what Red Hood anticipated would transpire next.

Finding himself face to face with the Soap Man himself, Red Hood acted instantly. Because, if nothing else, his years of brow-beaten training by the Chief Water Buffalo of The All Possible Outcomes Over Planning Anonymous taught him to act on instincts.

That means Soap gets grabbed by the collar, spun around and body slammed to the ground on his back with Red Hood's armored knee pressing into his Junk.

"Hi there Soap" the threatning voice greets the man through the mask's speaker. "We've got some things to talk about. Glad to see you've got the time."

Cole Cash has posed:
As Red Hood slammed Soap to the ground, the burly man from Intergang saw the confrontation and made his escape, disappearing into the crowd with practiced ease.

Soap groaned, struggling under Red Hood's weight. "You've got to be kidding me," he spat, glaring up at his masked assailant.

While Red Hood maintained his hold on Soap, Grifter moved quickly through the crowd. He spotted the scarred man just as he was about to vanish. Slipping behind him, Grifter pulled out a small, discreet electrical device. He pressed it against the man's ear, sending a jolt of pain through his nervous system.

The man staggered, clutching his head as blood trickled down from his ears. He groaned in agony. Grifter smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Sorry, pal. I didn't realize you were allergic to pain. But hey, you know what they say, everybody's a critic."

Grifter continued to apply the device, making sure the man remained incapacitated. He glanced back at the scene with Red Hood and Soap. "Looks like you're not the only one who's having a rough day," he said, grinning. "Maybe we should all head out for a drink after this. I hear drowning your sorrows in whiskey is a great way to forget getting your ass handed to you."

With the Intergang thug subdued, Grifter made sure he wouldn't cause any more trouble. He kept an eye on Red Hood and Soap, prepared for any further complications. The day was far from over, and the unexpected turns had only just begun.

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood's mask glares down at Soap. "I left my Just Kidding expression mask at home today. All I could find is my, "I'm not fucking around today" mask. So you'll just have to make do."

"On the bright side? I'm not after you. Word is you've been dabbling in some shiny new designer drugs. Gettin' 'em from a guy calls himself Grigory the Chemist. Now we're past asking if this is ringing any bells and right on the edge of breaking balls. So you take a second. Give it a good long think before you answer. Your future children depend on what you're about to say."

Applying just a bit more knee to Soap's groin, Red Hood then asks, "Grigory isn't stupid enough to supply you directly. I want the name of the supplier working for him. It's that simple. A name for your nuts."

Cole Cash has posed:
Soap winced as Red Hood's knee pressed harder into his groin, his body betraying his fear and pain. He realized that resistance would only make things worse, and the threat was all too real. His heartbeat quickened, and his eyes darted around, trying to find a way out of this situation.

"I... I get it," Soap managed through gritted teeth, his voice trembling. "Alright, alright. I'll talk."

"It's a guy named Friedrich Spott," Soap admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "He goes by F-Spot. He's based out of Hell's Gate, but moves around a lot."

"I don't know exact location," Soap said, his voice shaking, "but he has regular drop-offs at a warehouse in Eastside. That's where he does most of his transactions."

Soap's body language and physiological reactions confirmed his claim. Grifter approached, having knocked out the Intergang thug and zap strapped him for the police. His demeanor was a mix of amusement and sarcasm. "Hey, Soap. F-Spot, huh? Sounds like a real character."

Soap glared, still in discomfort. "I told you what you wanted. Just let me go."

Jason Todd has posed:
Red Hood listens as Soap tries to slip his way out of the current situation he finds himself in.

"Spott, eh? Two t's and all. Impressive. Do you guys use a random name generator to come up with your street names? Because. Damn."

Easing back, Red Hood nods. "That you did, Soap old boy." Roughly patting the man's cheek with an armored glove, Red Hood moves to stand up, jerking Soap up by the collar again. "There you go. Back on your own two feet. Now. Just a little bit of wisdom to share with you. You weren't -my- target. This time. But there are plenty of others willing to skim the top of the pond for the scum that lingers there. I know it won't do any good, but go clean yourself up. Find the straight and narrow and walk it. Because if you don't?"

With a shrug of a large shoulder, Red Hood releases Soap's shirt and steps back, leaving his question/threat/warning/random bit of conversation to hang unanswered in the air between them. With two more steps back, Red Hood seems to disappear into the growing shadows of the evening. He isn't gone. Yet. Just out of Soap's view. Probably making notes or database searches through his mask's uplink. Plus: those drones start floating their way back down to return to their box for a recharge.