20075/Junkyard of the Damned

Junkyard of the Damned
Date of Scene:	16 February 2025
Location:	Big Sal's Salvage - Bludhaven
Synopsis:	An investigation of Fairview Scrap and Salvage leads to a tantalizing clue. Big Sal himself makes an uncredited cameo.
Cast of Characters:	Detective Chimp, Barbara Gordon

---

Detective Chimp has posed:
It's ironic that the docks of Bludhaven have such a strong odor of rotten fish, considering that the waterways have been too toxic for fishing for decades. But though the docks are arguably the most dangerous in the country, the ships full of cargo keep showing up. Occasionally, the cargo is something that isn't illegal. And amidst all of the traffic, legal and otherwise, Big Sal's Salvage sits nestled in a piece of real estate that is just out of the way of the main thoroughfare, teeming with the wrecks of ships going all the way back to when Bludhaven was still known as 'Asbestos Town, USA.'

Anyone who thought the layers of filth coating everything in the docks was bad will need to adjust their expectations when visiting Sal's. Though much of the money comes from scrapping ships, vehicles, and cargo containers, there's still the telltale putrefying odors of a landfill. Junkyard dogs bark inside their pens, awaiting the coming of nightfall when they'll be released to roam the facility and hunt the rats and anything else that happens to be on the premises uninvited.

Walking past a row of cars stacked roughly half a dozen high, Detective Chimp regrets his choice to never wear shoes. Not that it's common to find shoes in his size, mind you, or ones that cater to people with opposable toes. The stench of his cheap cigarette helps to mask the odors from the salvage yard. But though he doesn't have a lot of people in his life to criticize his grooming, his normal aroma of stale nicotine and bar mats isn't exactly a significant upgrade.

Most of the employees seem to be working within the main building on sight, processing the bits of scrap brought by customers from all over town. Sketchy people covered in tattoos are pulling carts covered in small bits of scrap metal or bags of aluminum cans. A couple of tradesmen look defensive over their carts laden down with copper piping or wiring. Out back, a couple of equipment operators are driving forklifts and garbage pickers, dropping vehicles and large quantities of garbage into compactors for later sorting or to ship in cube form somewhere out of the country.

"Dammit. Should have brought my beer cans."

Barbara Gordon has posed:
It was entirely possible that Batgirl was coming to this place on the same night, at the same time, or ... it was possible she was tracking the Chimp. Either way, amidst the darker corners of the junkyard, a pair of headlights heralded the arrival of another vehicle. Amongst all the other cacophony of noises though, the motorcycle barely would get noticed. A black bike, sleekly armored, with fat tires, that held deep tread. It roared around a corner, and came to a stop about 30 years from the Detective. On it? A female figure in black, her silhouette cut a sharp figure, with the helmet that indicated a clear sign of a Bat. Pointed ears set skyward, as the rider threw one leg over the edge of the bike. She was wearing a black armored bodysuit, but there were no bright gold elements this time, and even more note worthy, she did not have a cape on. She just looked like a sleekly feet woman in an armored bodysuit, and she turned to move toward the Detective, a backpack on her shoulders that seemed designed specifically for her suit, and a braid of fiery red hair hung over her right shoulder, extended out from behind the armored helmet of her bat-themed suit.

She walked with a confident stride, her gloved hands swaying at her sides, as she looked right and left, causing her braid to glide around over the smoothly armored chest piece that covered her torso, up to her getting close enough that she looked to the chimp, and upnodded once toward him.

"You found the place." She said, her feminine voice not altered by any voice modulator, her care in hiding herself from him? It seemed a little less than it might be with your average stranger. Maybe she saw a bit of her father in this primate, somehow?

Detective Chimp has posed:
The wristwatch on Detective Chimp's arm is a knockoff of an already reasonably-priced brand. But it's still right at least twice a day. Consulting with it, he seems to be reasonably pleased with the arrival of a vehicle that's almost as distinctive as its rider. If only he had the budget for a Chimpcycle, but it would do him little good without a drivers license. Then again, nothing about Batgirl's bike is really street legal.

It appears that the chimp detective has once against slept in his clothes, and is once again working off a wicked hangover. A trait which he probably shares with Gotham's current police commissioner. Taking great care not to let his hands touch anything anywhere, he's forced to walk upright exclusively, which is a bit awkward for someone with such short legs and long arms. Nevertheless, he prevails with only modest effort. The cost of living in a world designed for humans.

"Of course I found the place, sweetheart. World's Greatest Detective, remember? Plus I googled it..."

He pulls the brim of his deerstalker cap down just a hair, as a sort of lazy tip of his cap. It would be a stretch to call the gesture gentlemanly, but it's somewhere on the spectrum of 'polite.'

"Gotta say though, I think this is gonna be a dead end, Bat-Ma'am. That ship was brought here a couple years ago. My guess... it's already been smashed into a little cube and turned into an electric car."

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Batgirl came to a pause a handful of steps away from the shorter Detective. Her eyes were on him, as she could barely not look at him? Look at him! She watched him tip his hat, and she visibly had to try and quell the smirk that was trying to force her facial muscles up... He was like Baby Yoda, but in a harier costume, with a Noir edge to him. It was just too damn much.

Focus, Gordon.

She drew in a breath, and shook her head, her half-masked face looking to the north. "It isn't. It's just over there, I saw it on the way in..." She indicated to him, dropping her eyes back to him. "Some kids broke in to it a month ago, the Youtube video is up to around nine hundred thousand views... It has an urban legend element to it, and the city is debating trying to sell it to someone, they're taking bids from some nautical museums..." She drew in a light breath, and glanced to the sky.

Two bat-drones flew over head, moving to the north, no doubt toward the ship itself. When she looked back down to him, she shifted her weight from one boot to the other, her gloved hands going up to her backpack straps. Up this close, she did have a Bat-symbol on her armored chest, but since it was just barely raised up from the rest of the armored material, it was much harder to notice. The belt around her waist had pouches, and a few visible gadgets too, that clung to the trim line of her frame. She turned to the north and started moving off, as she glanced back at him.

"Look, if this yields nothing, then it yields nothing. The point is we have a pretty good indication that those people's bodies did belong to the crew of this ship, and even if we find nothing, the GCPD is going to be all over this thing in the morning, and we don't want to look at it after they get in there again..."

Detective Chimp has posed:
The line of scrap continues to move slowly. People leave the building without their cans, bits of wire, or microwaves, but they leave with receipts that they can scan at the ATM and get wildly varying amounts of cash. A couple of women are posted up right near the exit. Though they're dressed somewhat warmly, their aging faces bear the marks of drug abuse. It's pretty clear what line of work they're in. A salvage yard isn't just a place to dump trash, it's an entire ecosystem that feeds off the rot of the city. But just as nature needs its maggots, a city needs its junk yards.

It's Detective Chimp's kind of place, whether he likes it or not.

Stroking his hairy chin with long, nearly-human fingers, DC looks up at the woman, seemingly impressed with her research. He's more of an analog guy, and back in his day social media was called newspapers. And he watches admiringly as she walks off, but is quick to attempt to catch up. His legs are a little too short to make it easy, and the awkward way that he waddles in his tweed suit probably doesn't help dispel any of the horrible allegations that he might be adorable.

For he is, in fact, adorable. He's also kind of gross. One's tolerance for the latter greatly influences their appreciation for the former, where Detective Chimp is concerned.

As they head north, they pass the kennels, where Dobermans with cropped ears and spiked collars growl and bark nastily at the patrons. But one of the dogs is simply lying next to his half-empty water dish, age evident from his lack of energy and the graying of hair on his muzzle.

"Hold up a second, Toots. I wanna talk to this guy before we go."

The chimp approaches the kennel, and what follows will no doubt be incomprehensible to the currently uncaped crusader. But from Detective Chimp's perspective, the conversation transpires thusly.

"Hey there Old-Timer. You been working here long?"

"Oh yeah... since I was a pup."

"Nice, maybe you remember when they brought the wreck of the Mary Solstice here?"

"Sure do bud... like it was yesterday. I remember they'd given me a real nice bone that day. Ham bone. Normally, the only bones we get are those cowhide things. But this was an actual ham bone. Big thing, too. Smelled delicious. And it had a good amount of meat still sticking to it."

Interjecting quickly, Detective Chimp tries to bring the conversation back around to something relevant.

"And so you saw them bring in the ship wreckage?"

"Oh... of course. Of course. Didn't pay it much mind, because I'd just gotten a real nice ham bone. Just the right texture, really gave my gums a workout, if you catch my drift."

"And then you noticed the wreckage?"

"No, not really. But afterward I heard the humans talking about it. Weird stuff. None of us'll go near it. Not even to chase rats. I don't even think too many of the rats go near it anymore..."

Tipping his hat, Detective Chimp waddles back over to Batgirl, looking somewhat satisfied.

"He didn't see anything useful. But he did give me a case of the heebie jeebies in advance. You'll protect me if there's anything nasty in there, right?"

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Batgirl sent her braid of red hair over her right shoulder, letting it dangle back behind her shoulders, the lack of cape still somehow making her armored suit look a bit strange, but the backpack did help offset that unusual change to the notorious Bat-family silhouettes, she walked a few paces ahead of the Detective, her wrist computer giving a soft illumination of pale blue to her frontal form, as she regarded the map shown on it, but the call to hold up had the redhead pausing, and turning to look toward the Chimp.

She watched him move toward the kennels, and she slowly followed him now.

Babs had never had dogs. She wasn't particularly great with them. She had wanted one, a long time ago, but her father had denied her that childhood feature. Beagles. That was her obsession when she was a kid, mostly because of Star Trek Enterprise, and the Beagle that Scott Bakula's Captain character had in the show.

These Doberman's? They were intimidating... but, in her line of work? She'd dealt with a lot of them. She actually had two peanut butter chocolate balls in a pouch on her belt, specifically for dog management purposes. But here and now? She just stood back, her thumbs under the shoulder straps of her backpack, as she watched the Detective work.

Her green eyes went from the Chimp, to the Dog, and she listened, all while questioning where her life had gotten her. She was dressed as a Bat, afterall...

A bat, a chimp, and a dog, all have a conversation together.

When the Detective joined her again, she considered what he said, and exhaled softly. "I see... Maybe we should ask the Junkyard Cat, Jack Bauer?" She asked him, making a pop culture reference to a tv show set in Philadelphia.

After a smirk was shown to the Chimp, Batgirl paused, and asked him something. "Is your name Bobo?" She inquired, her green eyes cast down to him on her right side, as they walked around another pile of tires and scrap, thankfully away from the bustle of the main parts of the yard where activity was still a thing. at least it was devilishly cold out tonight, which made the place undoubtedly a little less occupied by Gotham City citizens.

Detective Chimp has posed:
As he catches up, Detective Chimp seems to be a bit more somber than usual. The conditions these animals are kept in wouldn't be considered cruel to most people, but it's something that the chimp has a bit more sensitivity toward. It helps that he can actually hear what they have to say. But most of them are fairly simple creatures, who have no interest in wearing a suit, day drinking, and paying the rent on a shabby office in downtown Gotham. Some days, Detective Chimp thinks that they have the right idea.

Though it's a fairly sprawling place, able to house the wreckage of multiple ships, Big Sal's Salvage isn't an especially challenging facility to walk across. Especially for an athlete like Batgirl. For a chain-smoking ape who rarely exercises, it's still not too terrible. He only gets slightly out of breath. It'd help if he walked on all fours, but this place is disgusting.

Stepping in something squishy with his barefoot, Detective Chimp suppresses a grimace as he follows along. He's definitely going to have to wash his feet when he gets home. Here's hoping the rideshare driver doesn't kick him out of the car.

"Bobo? Sounds like you've been doing your homework, young lady. It's not what my parents called me, but it's the first name I got from a human. If it makes it easier on you... I don't mind it."

Up ahead, the wreckage of the Mary Solstice can be seen. Sure enough, it's still here. And strangely, it seems to have been left largely alone, in a spot all of its own. The dog wasn't kidding, there's something creepy about it, which can be felt even at a distance. Given the way that its crew and passengers ended up, perhaps that's to be expected.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess you don't share your real name with just any ol' ape though. But... just out of curiosity... is there a Mister Batgirl?"

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Batgirl was back to viewing her wrist display, as they walked, her eyes were down on the camera feed that was illuminating her face and chest in a soft blue glow. Above the Mary solstice, two of her drones were slowly sweeping around the wreckage. It could be heard creaking gently, as it moved with the cold February wind, held in place by massive chains, that kept it securely steady.

She did glance back to the Detective beside her, and she showed him a small smirk. "Batgirl is what I have to go by when in this suit..." She quietly said. "And, now I feel even weirder calling you that, if it was given to you against your desire... How about Bob? I like Bob." She showed him a sly smirk.

When he asked about a Mr. Batgirl, she just openly laughed, and shook her head dismissively as her green eyes went back to her display on her forearm.

"I don't think many men would want their wife going out, and doing the things I do at night..." She muttered, as she took a turn and lead them both toward the scaffolding stairs that zig-zagged up the side of the wreckage. she pulled the chain apart with a surprising amount of ease, breaking it, and exhaling afteward. "remind me to replace these..." She said, either to the Detective, or to the AI that was always listening and recording from her mask and helmet.

Babs started up the stairs, her boots quietly impacting the rusty old metal, as she ascended ahead of the chimp.

"I've been doing a bit of research on a lot of things, though. From you, to this ship, and the crew that vanished aboard it too."

Detective Chimp has posed:
Finally, something that isn't completely shellacked with grime. The way that Detective Chimp ascends stairs really requires all four limbs, and he's grateful that the scaffolding steps aren't nearly as filthy as the ground. A little bit of rust probably won't hurt anybody, right? This would be a good time to have his digital assistant remind him to get a tetanus shot, if he had a digital assistant. Or any assistant.

But just because he doesn't have any fancy drones, or any real tech to speak of, that doesn't meant that Detective Chimp isn't doing his share of detecting here. Observant as ever, he makes mental notes of the condition of the ship. Exposed to the open air for a while now, it's beginning to rust, particularly around the damaged section where the ship struck the ice.

Though the ship appears from the exterior to just be another wreck, the eerie feeling that something terrible happened here is palpable, and causes the hairs on the back of Detective Chimp's neck to stand up as they ascend the staircase. It's something that can be felt viscerally, though it might be a trick of the mind, given the condition they found the crew in.

"I did a little research myself." He'll have to show her is iMac from 2004 sometime. "There's a lot more information about you on the dark web than there is about this ship. Which is interesting... big mystery like this, and it's like everyone forgot about it after a couple of days. Damnedest thing is, even I forgot about it until you mentioned the name. That's classic Satan, I'm tellin' you."

Finally at the top of the scaffolding, Bobo, Bob, or whatever makes it easier is a little bit winded. So he stands up, and lights a cigarette to help him breathe. And think.

"Kind of a crappy boat for Satan though."

Barbara Gordon has posed:
As Batgirl ascended the stairs ahead of the Chimp, she did glance back at him. Some part of her wanted to offer him help getting up the steps, but another part of her reminded herself that he was his own man, and she was not here to coddle him like some kind of a doting mother. He'd made it this far in what had to have been a hard life, and she assumed he was used to scaling uncomfortable obstacles. She just let him be, and made sure the way was as clear as possible for him.

But as they ascended, her forearm mounted computer began to talk, a female voice, pleasant and soft, began to give a full run down on the Mary Solstice's history, a dossier on the ship's enigmatic history that lead to its final voyage.

"The dark web, huh? Searching Batgirl on there probably comes up with a lot of nasty stuff." Including the photos of her that the Joker took after he shot her in the back. She knew they were there, and she'd tried to scrub them. But even her elite skills with computers had limitations, when it went up against the internet... She loved, and hated the internet, for that very reason.

But had he digged far enough to find out who she was, and find those photos? Most were not that good at computers to accomplish that, and she assumed he wasn't either.

The Bat computer rattled off the details, as they reached the top, and she dropped down on to the deck, a layer of snow covering the deck in a light dusting. She instantly activated a low light of a dim blue hue, and began to sweep it about, as she glanced back at him when he lit up his cigarette. "If you need help getting down, let me know." She said. "When we leave, that is." She couldn't help herself, as she turned away, and started to walk toward the open hatch. "The scrap yard employees don't come up here. They claim the place is cursed, and haunted." She grimly relays.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
----------- Bat Computer -----------
"Mary Solstice Incident Report, compiled from all available records.  

The Mary Solstice was a mid-sized cargo freighter, measuring 285 feet in length with a reinforced hull, built to withstand Arctic conditions. Registered to the Northwind Shipping Company, it primarily transported high-value research equipment and mineral samples from the Arctic Circle to Gotham and other coastal cities.  

On the night of its disappearance, the Mary Solstice was en route from a Greenland research station, carrying a shipment that included geological samples, specialized drilling equipment, and classified materials commissioned by a private research firm. Details of the manifest remain redacted in Coast Guard reports. The vessel's last recorded transmission was routine - no distress signal, no deviation from course - before all communications ceased during a powerful ice storm.  

Three days later, the ship was discovered lodged in pack ice off Gotham's coastline, adrift but intact. An immediate boarding by the Coast Guard revealed an unsettling scene: the ship's engine remained operational but was left idling in standby mode, all lifeboats were still secured, and there were no signs of damage from either the storm or external forces. Personal belongings remained undisturbed, food sat half-eaten on plates in the mess hall, and the crew of thirteen had vanished without a trace. The only notable clue found was a single crew uniform, neatly folded and placed on the captain's chair, as if deliberately left behind.  

Despite multiple search efforts, sonar scans, and forensic analysis, no biological remains or evidence of foul play were discovered on board. No footprints or signs of struggle were found in the snow-covered deck. The official investigation labeled the incident as an 'unexplained maritime disappearance.' With no leads and no claims made by surviving family members, the ship was towed to Gotham for further study. After three years of inconclusive findings, it was decommissioned and relocated to Fairview Scrap & Salvage, pending an eventual sale to the Gotham Maritime Museum.  

One final note: logbook entries from the ship's final hours were recovered, but they offer no clarity. The last entry, written by the captain, states simply: 'The lights are back again. We're going to check.' The rest of the page is blank.  

No further details exist regarding what these ?lights' may refer to."
-----------

Detective Chimp has posed:
There's another clicking noise from Detective Chimp's location, and the relatively powerful beam of a Mag-Lite begins sweeping across the deck of the Mary Solstice. Turns out the Bat family aren't the only ones who can afford nice things. Though with the cost of D batteries these days, this case might very well push our hair-covered hero to utter financial ruin. As the computer voice drones on, Detective Chimp sweeps his light to and fro, but virtually everything that was on the ship has long since been removed and catalogued, leaving only their imprints and their absence to serve as clues.

He remains mostly silent. Though he's arguably the most talkative of chimps, he's not the most talkative of detectives. She'll have to simply wonder whether his googling brought up anything specific. Fortunately, most of the crooks she busts don't seem to be big users of Photoshop, but like any public figure there's a lot of fake images to filter through amongst the real ones.

"Don't need to worry about me, kiddo. I may have hemorrhoids older than your dad, but I'm still as spry as I ever was."

Apparently he's old enough to use the word 'spry.'

"Not seeing any blood stains... but we already knew that... I'm no nautical expert by any means, but it really just looks like a basic ass boat..."

Batgirl's drones will probably get far more data in minutes than Detective Chimp could in hours. But that doesn't stop him from taking out his notebook, and scribbling out a few observations with an old fountain pen. It helps to have opposable thumbs on your feet when you need to shift your flashlight around.

"I'm ready to head below deck whenever you are. Probably a bad time to ask... but you don't freak out easy about ghosts, do you?"

Barbara Gordon has posed:
The responses that his off-color comments about himself, just earned a small grimace from the redheaded vigilante in the black bodysuit. She was a handful of meters away, working on her own strings, tugging and sorting them in her mind, as she noticed something on the hatch.

When he asked his question about heading down to the deck below, he would find her leaned over, her eyes on a mark on the hatch to the fore rooms of the ship, including the stairwell up to the bridge. She was scanning something with her forearm computer, a green laser grid imprinted on the wall for just a second, before it flashed away, and the Batgirl straightened up again, her eyes down on her screen. "Claw mark," she announced softly. Inconclusive on what kind of claw would have left such a mark, though..." She said, as she glanced at the stairwell, but then turned to walk toward him.

"Yeah, lets check inside..." She stated, as she went for the stairs leading down in to the inerds of the derelict vessel. "Ghosts don't really do much for me, so much as Demonic hauntings do. I've had a couple run-ins with Demonic presences, and... I'd rather hope that is not what we're dealing with here."

she glanced back at him, as she rounded the corner of the old stairwell headed down to the inner corridor below. "If it is, lets just hope I run faster than you do." she stated, casting him a playful grin, before she looked back ahead, her light dimly shining a way ahead for them to traverse, her French braided ponytail swishing over the small black leather backpack afixed to her spine and her body armor.

"How do you feel about rats? I don't suppose you can talk to them too?" She inquired, as her light was tracking a large one skittering down the passage ahead away from the intruders to its home...

Detective Chimp has posed:
"No shit..."

Although Batgirl had already catalogued it, her simian companion took a moment to look at the claw mark with his magnifying glass. Inconclusive, judging by the fact that the mark got nothing more than a 'Hmmm...' from him. But it was another clue, and something that wasn't listed in any of the official reports. Telltale signs of a coverup, but there was no sign so far as to who might benefit from the continued unsolved mystery.

The chimp was hot on her heels as she descended the stairs, his cigarette having already been finished off and discarded. The light from his flashlight cast a vaguely Batgirl-shaped silhouette upon the floor ahead of them, a comforting image in the midst of an eerie environment.

"Couple of my friends are demons... but then most of my friends are one manner of scumbag or another..." His train of thought was interrupted as the rat skittered away down the hallway, and he called out something very high-pitched that caused the rat to stop in its tracks. As if in answer to her question, he made a series of noises that caused the rat to respond in like fashion. It was a quick conversation, but rats are notoriously abrupt.

"He apologized for running. But he thought that we might have been friends of the guy who visits sometimes. Apparently, he's not too nice to rats... average build, middle aged... likes to hum."

Looking up at the undoubtedly incredulous other detective, the chimp seemed a bit bashful about his sidebar rat conversation. Clearing his throat, he gave only the briefest of explanations as he continued down the hallway toward what appeared to be the galley.

"I, uh... speak rat. Actually, I speak the language of every animal. Even humans."

Barbara Gordon has posed:
Batgirl stopped right after the fleeing rat stopped. she heard the Detective speak out to it, and she saw it seemingly responding. It caused her to sweep her eyes back to the chimp, as she kept her light forward down the passage. When the exchanged wrapped up, and the information was relayed, Babs had to quietly just stand there a moment. "that is a useful skill..." She uttered, her voice as whispery soft as the cold winds moving through the corridor.

When she started walking again, she spoke up after another second. "How the heck are you not selling that skill for tons of money?" She had to ask, as her light was beaming its way through open hatches, the conical LED light shining against the empty spaces of the various bunkrooms that used to house the crew. "You could get yourself a fancy Smart Watch, instead of that Casio knockoff..." She added, this time a bit of a playful barb behind the intentions of those words.

Something caught her eyes, though, and she stepped toward one of the hatches, and knelt down on one knee beside the door. Her light shined on a symbol upon the frame, as her gloved hand went up to gently brush a black leather encased thumb over the strange marking. "I don't recognize this, and it doesn't look like punk kids with a spray can... In fact, I don't see any graffiti anywhere in here. Odd for Gotham... The haunting legends must have an effect."

She raised her wrist up, using her tech device to capture an image of the marking. "Did your rat friend have anything to say about where that man comes and goes from? A type of vehicle, maybe? I don't suppose he could offer a run down on his appearance, either?" She glanced at Bob and smirked toward him.

Detective Chimp has posed:
The galley was remarkably preserved, though bereft of most of its contents. The furniture was bolted down, not unusual for a seafaring vessel, but everything else had been long removed. The shadows morphed and shifted with each subtle change of Detective Chimp's flashlight position, making the darkness seem alive in a way. But the chimp was no stranger to darkness, and it wasn't his first time touring a mausoleum.

"Talking to humans isn't as useful as you might think, or as lucrative. No offense... I'm sure you're a really nice girl."

Deliberately sidestepping the issue, Detective Chimp checked out one of the cabins, and even snapped a few photos on his old camera. Finally some business for the last twenty four hour photo developer left in Bludhaven. Some business that wasn't amateur porn, anyway.

The soft steps of a chimp's bare feet on aging steel floors was barely perceptible to the untrained ear, but would probably have been far too obvious to the human detective for her to be snuck up on. As he came to stand beside her in the dark, he was finally taller than her in her kneeled position, but only just. The light from his flashlight was added to hers, and he rubbed his chin in thought as he looked at the mark. Silent for a moment, he mulled it over for a bit more.

There were some high-pitched noises, and the only one who was actually dressed like a detective had to respond negatively. "Rats aren't too good with faces, and humans all kind of look alike. But this here though..."

He leaned forward, examining the mark carefully as he copied it down in his notebook. He was the sort of guy who kept his notes in actual volumes, bound in leather, with copious drawings and bits of paper sandwiched between the pages. From the look of it, this particular volume was getting a bit full, and this might be the last case that would fit within it.

"I don't know what this symbol means. But I know a place we can find out. Assuming you don't mind being seen in a bar with a handsome older man."

There was a sound of footsteps coming from the scaffolding outside, causing the detective to freeze in place, his mouth hanging open as thoughts fled from him. The time on his cheap watch read 7:23. A male voice accompanied the footsteps, humming gently as he walked up the stairs. The tune might have been a bit before Batgirl's time, but Detective Chimp recognized it immediately as 'Waterloo Sunset.'

Barbara Gordon has posed:
"I don't know, I think I'd pay you pretty handsomely, to talk to a few animals now and then." Batgirl softly said, as the Chimp did his own inspection of the marking on the hatch door frame. She glanced back at him, while he worked, showing him a faint smirk at his commentary, before she was about to speak again, when he reacted to the sound of someone coming.

Her eyes instantly went down to her wrist display, and she looked at the live image from her drones, showing the figure coming aboard. "who the hell is that..." She quietly whispered, as she could hear a tune being whistled, but not one she knew.

She rose up to her full height again, and motioned in to the bunkroom. "Step inside," she told the Detective, as she deactivated her light, and swept her own armored form gracefully through the open hatch, and in to the shadowy interior of the room. She moved with an impressive ability, when seriously conducting herself, the fluidity of water through a directed route. She slipped right in to the shadows, and her suit seemed to absorb them, and take hold of her body within them.

Batgirl found her corner, and waited for the Chimp to do the same, less he had some other plan up his well worn sleeve.

Detective Chimp has posed:
There was another quick click, and Detective Chimp's flashlight was extinguished. Though he wasn't clad in any sort of light absorbing ninja garment, or trained by assassins from Nanda Parbat, the chimp was still a sneaky sort and his dark colored fur blended well with the shadows. Nearly silently, he was right behind Batgirl, heading through the hatch into the bunkroom and then heading to an opposite corner within relatively quick striking distance of the hatch.

The sounds of the humming got closer as the steps began striking against the ship's deck. The pace was leisurely, and unhurried, and the singer was clearly taking no great pains to hide his activity. It boded well for their chances of having been undiscovered so far, unless the encroacher was simply completely unbothered by their presence.

As the steps began heading down the stairwell to the lower deck, the sounds of 'Waterloo Sunset' began echoing through the vessel, sending any remaining rats scurrying away. But then, not many of them had taken up residence here anyway, due to the lack of scraps and presence of this currently faceless man.

The song ended, the footsteps grew ever closer. Loafers, by the sound of them. Leather, with hard laminate soles that clacked noisily. Before he walked past the bunkroom, the scent of two differing brands of aftershave and cologne could be smelled, even with an unenhanced snooter.

"Bah bah ba bah bah... I feel free..."

Apparently the singer with the croaky voice was a fan of late sixties English bands. Strange, considering that his accent was clearly typical of a middle-aged Gotham area mook. Detective Chimp wasn't the biggest fan of Cream, but he had more pressing concerns than critiquing the creepy singer's taste.

There was a flash of light that crossed the hatch of the bunkroom. Apparently he was using his phone's flashlight to provide illumination as he walked toward... the captain's quarters.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
One of the Bat-drones was right there when the man passed through the hatch in to the ship's stairwell. It had the ability to fire on him, but Batgirl didn't issue the command. She wanted to see who this was, and what he was doing. The drone went in to a standby position just above the doorway on the main deck.

As the man descended, Babs' green eyes just watched from her darkened corner. She had spared a single glance to the Detective, but he'd chosen a good spot. Thus, her attention fully went to the bunkroom's hatch, and she waited for the tune-humming man to pass by. His beam of light was tracked, the sound of his steps measured to determine his distance, and when he vaguely appeared on the other side of the doorway, Babs watched, loomed in the dark.

When he passed by, that is when she swept herself out of the shadow, the vanta-black of her suit shifting subtley in the changing of hues, the chameleon effect of the tech inside the suit's creation an impressive display of technology that does not normally get seen by most, though Bobo here gets a front row seat to watch a Bat in their trained-in home.

She moved so silently, a total opposite effect to the shoes of the man in the corridor outside the bunk. She slipped from the bunkroom, and trailed after him, a true Ninja at-play.

Batgirl did not jump the man, however, instead she found solace in another shadow across from the Captain's bunk, where she watched the man stride within, her form pressed back in to a corner, as she had a good enough vantage point to see 80 percent of the room's interior, and at least for now, the full back-view of this strange new visitor to this haunted and hallowed derelict freighter.

Bobo? He had a full open run to get to the stairs, and flee, if he so desired...

Detective Chimp has posed:
Though he was not an especially violent sort of primate, Detective Chimp was also not a coward. As the svelte form of Batgirl melded wraithlike with the shadows, the ape detective followed close behind, staying out of the way, but with a firm grip on the handle of his Mag-Lite in case things went awry. The idea of actually helping Batgirl in a fight might have seemed laughable to a reasonable person, but his willingness to stick to the danger in the dark was commendable, if ill-advised.

From behind, the man appeared to be of about average height, but of above average girth. A stocky, overweight sort of man, dressed in the sort of clothing that the owner of a pawn shop might think was fashionable. The bald patch on the back of his head was covered by hair that was combed over, and kept in place with a thick application of pomade. The rolls of his neck bulged out over the top of his silky button down shirt. But it was the jewelry on his neck, wrists, and fingers which caught the most light from his cellphone's flashing light.

As he stepped into the captain's quarters, he tapped the screen on his phone, and a dial tone could be heard. Apparently he was a big fan of leaving his phone on speaker mode. When the other party connected, a woman's voice answered, with a thick Eastern European accent.

"Hello darlink..."

"Svetlana... how's my little pookie bear?"

"Oh... same as always."

"You almost here?"

"I'm just pullink up now. But do we really have to keep using that creepy ship, baby?"

"Come on sweetheart, we've been over this. My wife's like a bloodhound. She finds out about us... she'll have my balls in a vice faster than you can say 'borscht.'"

The chimp looked at the salvage yard owner with skepticism as he crept forward in the dark. Giving Batgirl a quick glance, he seemed to be questioning the play here, along with many of his own life choices.

Barbara Gordon has posed:
One could not even easily count the number of people that Batgirl had gotten the jump on like this, under similar setup. Truth be told, she was far from the best fighter in the Bat-family, but she was really well trained in a variety of martial arts, and it set her up to be very capable of taking down most people in Gotham city. Especially your average Joes and Janes, and even more-so if she had the jump on them.

But this situation? It suddenly took a turn from being very intriguing, possibly case-defining, until it wasn't. A sense of realization hit Babs' ears through her mask coverings, and it made her heart both sink and flutter. On one hand, this wasn't a killer, more than likely, but on the other, it wasn't going to blow their case wide open here either.

Batgirl gave a glance to the Detective, and in the shadow, he'd see her upnod toward the stairs, giving him the signal to head out.

She turned then, and stepped out of the shadow, right in front of the Captain's bunk. she was there, so clearly visible that if the yard boss turned, he'd see a Gotham Bat just staring directly at him, even if a svelt and lovely one.

But when he did turn, all he saw was an empty hallway, because she had already turned and begun her silent retreat of the stairs, and toward the main deck above.

Once outside, Babs' drones rose up in the air, getting a higher view on the situation, with one tracking the incoming car of the love-connection woman, while the other went to check on the Bat-cycle.

"You need a lift anywhere?" Batgirl asked the Detective, as she started for the scaffolding stairs, not intending to replace the chain anymore, after finding out what the yard boss uses the ship for.

"We have a few things to look in to, I think." She quietly said, not wishing to even refer to what they just witnessed.