2239/A Date Night in Gotham. Nothing Could Possibly Go Wrong.

A Date Night in Gotham. Nothing Could Possibly Go Wrong.
Date of Scene:	27 June 2020
Location:	Abandoned Warehouse, The Narrows, Gotham City
Synopsis:	Date night means beating up goons and getting shot! Its Gotham, what else did you expect.
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Rose Wilson

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Tim Drake has posed:
The Tin Cow went well. Better than Tim expected, really. A not-entirely brief run back to the Roost to change from date clothes to... uh... still date clothes? But costumes... later...

Red Robin is perched in the shadows on one of the rooftops of the abandoned warehouse in the Narrows where the exchange is planned to take place. His domino mask has a small heads-up-display built in, and he has an expandable bo in his hand, though it's currently minimized to nightstick length. He's silent as he gazes over the empty parking lot, waiting. Falcone's goons would be arriving soon to make their sale to... someone.

There's a minor worry about who that someone might be, but Tim's data didn't have the who. He assumes it's minor league drug dealers.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Costumes usually come later on in a relationship, not that Rose would dare point that out for fear that it might make Tim's head explode before she really wants it to.

Enough jokes.

Rose has traded her date clothes out for her usual costume, her twin swords strapped to her back and nothing as hi-tech as his display seen anywhere upon her person. Which means that she's limited to watching like normal, seemingly perfectly calm and cool. Ready for whoever it might be that turns up.

Tim Drake has posed:
It's a brief, fifteen minute wait in silence until a pair of unmarked white vans pull into the parking lot and park, waiting. Another five passes, and a pair of black SUVS pull in.

"SUVs are Falcone's goons," Tim mutters under his breath. "No clue about the vans."
.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Run the plates?" Rose suggests, not that she actually has any idea if there //are//plates, because she's not looking. Instead she's doing mental math, calculating what the top end of men that could be comfortably fit into the pair of SUVs and pair of white vans.

Whatever number she comes up with makes her decide, "Almost even."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Already on it," Red Robin murmurs, tapping away on his wrist computer. "SUVs come up as registered to one of Falcone's shell companies. Vans... are..." he frowns. "Huh. I'm not sure I like the implications here, Ravager. Vans are coming up as registered to Ace Chemical-- which has been shut down for years." He doesn't mention that the sorts of folks attached to ACe are definitely not the types that Red Robin and Ravager should be kicking a hornet's nest of solo.

Or at least without Batman being aware of it.

However. There's a pretty girl, and Tim doesn't want to look like a worrying chump.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Could be someone using that as a cover, and no association to the previous owners." Which would be the //good// possible result here, right? "Or they could be back." Which would be the more //fun// of the results. If things were all being left up to Rose in the end.

"Are we waiting?" This is where he gets the look, the one that says she is ready to go in and go in //now//. Not wait around and miss the chance.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Probably want them to at least start popping their heads--" Tim begins, but is interrupted by the doors of the vans popping open. Several low-rent street thug sorts with makeup smeared haphazardly on their faces pop out of the candy vans like an exploding clown car, as both side doors and the back doors all open at once.

Literally. The clown part, not the exploding. Yet. Maybe.

The SUVs are more sedate in their doors opening, and the goons that step out are more organized. Their suits are cheap, but at least clean and pressed. Sunglasses on, even at midnight. They all have guns--both sides, which they hold casually but menacingly.After a few moments, one of the sunglasses mafia mooks and one of the Great Value clown mooks meet in the middle and begin to chat.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Lookie."

Rose is actually rather happy about the fact that there are plenty of armed goons that are there, ready to get the beat down. They have popped their heads out, and that is honestly all the waiting around that Rose can manage to do. With one finale glance in Tim's direction, she then moves to find the fastest way down off the roof.

Tim Drake has posed:
As soon as Ravager starts her way down one side, Red Robin finishes his scan of the area and the goons below. He frowns a bit-- she's a lot more prone to diving in headfirst than he is, but since she's already looking to engage...

Red Robin pulls a pair of Birdarangs from his utility belt, and whips them, first one, then the other, towards the nearest tires on the lead car of each pairing, trying to make it harder for them to get away easily. He's not the acrobat Nightwing is, but he's no slouch at the heroing gig, as he quickly follows Rose down the side of the building. As soon as he hits the ground, he flicks his wrist, extending his bo staff to it's maximum length.

Rose Wilson has posed:
As soon as her feet hit the ground, Ravager is reaching up to grab the hilts of her two swords, pulling them out. There's a quick look around, noting the positions of the goons, and checking to see if they've begun making any moves with the sudden whooshing of deflating tires hitting the air.

Harmless Falcone thugs. Or other? It's such a hard choice, but there are larger numbers on the Clown side, so that is the direction that Rose heads. She goes for the stragglers, the ones in back, near the vans.

Tim Drake has posed:
Probably a good call on Rose's part... they all have guns, and the mafia guys look menacing, but anyone that's been around Gotham longer than a hot second knows that the clowns are the truly dangerous ones.

Which is why, though flinching when he sees Rose pull the swords (maybe she'll use the flats? Damian... usually... uses the flats) he isn't going to start that argument quite yet. The thud and sudden exploding air of busted tires HAS drawn the attention of the goon squad(s), and they are already looking towards a pair of vigilantes with loathing in their collective eyes.

Tim's a smart kid. His suit isn't terribly great at stopping bullets... so he's already strafing as he moves in towards Falcone's thugs, reasoning they'll be less likely to use their guns in close quarters. Bo spinning, he slides into the melee between the two SUVs, already reaching out and touching a couple of them with his stick.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Vigilante. Mercenary. Blood-thirsty killer. Only one person fits all three, and Tim is probably going to be very, very disappointed to know that Rose doesn't intend to use the flat of the blades.

The first one of the Clowns she reaches gets hamstringed in one slice of the blade in her left hand as she spins between the pair, lifting her right foot to then plant it in the back side of the next goon. It puts her well within range of them, which might be entirely purposeful because that means they are all distracted, and mob her.

Tim Drake has posed:
RATTATATATATATATA!

Tim grunts as a pair of shots hit him in the chest as he's spinning to crack the arms, torsos, and occasionally heads of Falcone's goons with the bo. His logic about the mafia guys not wanting to risk shooting their allies is sound.

As two of the made men beside him fall to a short hail of bullets coming from by the puppy vans, Tim is thrown backwards into the SUV from the force of the bullets hitting the bullet resistant armor of his costume. Maybe he didn't have holes in him, but damn. It felt like it. He draws a ragged gasp of breath, looking over just in time to see blood splatter and Rose being mobbed.

No time to argue.

Red Robin shoves himself away from the now bullet-riddle SUV, leaping over the (hopefully just knocked out? Dammit, these clowns!) unmoving forms of two of the mafia goons, moving to put the SUVs between him and the clown goons-- which also puts him where the other of Falcone's mobsters are, taking cover and preparing to fire into the melee of the other group.

Rose is in the middle of that mess. Not going to happen. Red Robin winces from the bruising on his chest being pulled as he slams his bo down onto one of the arms of a guy holding a gun to force him to drop it. He kicks the gun under the vehicle.

//I should call the Boss,// Tim thinks to himself as he whips the bo around to try and knock another gun from the other guy's grasp. //...I should REALLY call the boss.//

Rose Wilson has posed:
Down she goes. The massive weight of the mob carries her down in a flash of steel and spraying blood. Because, although she goes down, she's stabbing and slashing as she goes. None of them are killing blows, that much is clear to anyone that is spending time to watch and see what damage is happening.

Would he really want to call the Boss with his maybe-he-wishes-girlfriend-psycho nearly murdering poor, defenseless bad guys?

One of the clowns goes flying as she kicks him in the stomach, sending him flying from her currently prone position.

Tim Drake has posed:
One of the mafia guys lets out a loud yell of pain as his wrist snaps from Red Robin's bo attack. Tim kicks his gun under the vehicle as well, swinging the spinning stave around to knock out another goon as he dives towards the young batling to try and tackle him. Five down. Two more left, behind the other vehicle.

TATATATATATATA!

Tim ducks, wincing as he hears the hail of bullets hit the vehicle he's using for cover. He reaches into his utility belt and snags an explosive birdarang...

...but wings it at the nearest KITTEN van, hoping to distract some of Rose's newfound friends. It bites deep into the back bumper and then goes BOOM. It doesn't nuke the place, but it does blow the back doors and bumper off and set the van on fire.

Rose Wilson has posed:
It doesn't just distract them, it knocks a few of them back. Which opens up the pile on so that she can get to her feet, swinging her sword down towards one of the ones prone on the ground as she gets to her feet.

There's a quick glance in the direction of the now blown van, and it's enough to distract her and let one of the clowns get a shot off. Or three.

The three shot burst slams into her, and knocks her down to her knee, a growl rumbling up from her chest as she just stops, and tries to get herself under contro.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim has his own problems. He doesn't carry too many of the explosive 'rangs, and that was the only one he brought with. However, he does have a few other tricks up his wristguards. He takes a deep breath (painful with the bruised ribs) and bumrushes from behind one SUV to the other, diving low and sweeping with the heavy staff to knock the crouching remaining mafia guys off their feet. As soon as he does, he cracks them both in the head-- night night!-- and takes their guns, too.

Now to help Ravager--

Though... of the ten clowns, she's already disabled all but three. So.

Technically they are even, kind of.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Technically. Although the one that actually //shot// her has earned her irritation, that anger flashing as she surges back to her feet as soon as she gets her wind back.

The others have been stabbed, knocked out, slashed, but she's not actually //killed// any of them. Yet. The one that shot her? Well. The sword in her hand flashes as she swings for his hand, getting a few fingers and causing him to drop the weapon before she starts in for the kill.

Tim Drake has posed:
"RAVAGER, NO." Fwipfwipfwipfwipfwip! A birdarang (standard) slings through the sky, cracking into the temple of Rose's target bluntly and crumpling him to the ground. Red Robin can't stand by and allow anyone to be killed-- even Joker's minions. There's two left.

And a still-functioning white van, which they are making a break for!

Rose Wilson has posed:
It's not the cry that gets the attention, it's the fact that it knocks out her target that causes her head to snap to the side to stare at the source of the birdarang.

The two running for the van are left to run as Rose straightens up, sliding the blade against her leg, wiping the blood from the surface of the metal before she slides one of the pair home on her back.

Does Tim feel his chances crumbling every second now?

Tim Drake has posed:
At the moment, Tim's hormones aren't entirely in charge, which is probably for the best. He scowls to himself... out of anything that might stop the van. And too far to make it. The white van peels off, half dragging one of the two clowns as it screams out of the parking lot.

Red Robin sinks against the side of the SUV, breathing hard. After a few moments he makes his way to the back of the vehicle and pops the trunk. Bricks of light blue powder are stacked back there.

He lifts his wrist, punching a call to the GCPD immediately. "Red Robin at the old Brightsides Furniture warehouse in the Narrows. Have detained several suspects along with a large amount of illicit substances. Some are seriously injured." He clicks off. They'll be here to clean up soon.

Rose Wilson has posed:
There's a shake of her head, but Rose doesn't argue with his call to the GCPD. Instead she cleans off the second blade, sliding it home once more before turning her attention towards the clowns.

What could they possibly have in their pockets that she might want? Who knows, but while he handles official business she does a quick search of pockets. Whatever she finds she looks at, then tosses off into the distance before she gets to her feet, heading over in Red Robin's direction just in time for him to sign off.

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin isn't digging through pockets, though he is a bit interested in the powder. "Never seen this before. Wonder what it is..." he mutters to himself. He pulls out a small vial from his utility belt and takes a quick sample to take back to the Batcave for analysis. "And why do Joker's goons want it? And how did Falcone get his hands on it...?" All rhetorical of course, but the detective in the batling is already gearing up. "Ravager, is there anything in what's left of the other van?" That's missing half a back end.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Lots of reasons they might want it. Probably none of it because they want some innocent drug out on the street, either." For whatever might be counted as an innocent drug, that is.

The question about what is in the other van gets a lift of her shoulders, but then she starts towards the van to climb through the mess of the back end so that she can root around inside.

Tim Drake has posed:
There are a few tattered briefcases in various states of burnt that hold cash. Most of it is damaged but a fair amount may be salvageable. There's also... if one of the briefcases is dug through enough... a small incendiary device with a small gas bomb. With rictus gas in it... the gas that kills with laughter and leaves corpses smiling.

Seems, as typical, the Joker intended a double cross.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Money...and..." Rose isn't going to actually touch it, because as tough as she might be, she has no idea if this particular bit of insanity is something even she could survive.

So when she hops back out of the van, she moves towards him, "Might want to warn them to wear a gas mask if they go rooting around in the brief cases."

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin frowns. "Joker gas? ...so he was going to kill them?" Somehow that doesn't shock him, but it is.... disappointing. Still, he relays the information... to both the GCPD and after a moment, he flips on the Bat Family comms. <<Red Robin here. Joker and Falcone were making a trade for some kind of drug. I have a sample. Jokers goons brought cash with a Rictus gas bomb in it... typical double cross. I'm disabling it and bringing it in. Don't want the GCPD folks at risk.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"Mmhmm." Rose replies with a simple nod, letting her attention roam around the area, counting those that have fallen and then she moves to lean herself against the side of one of Falcone's cars.

It's clear by her stance that she'd probably kill them all and go for ice cream, but she's willing to patiently wait for him to finish up doing whatever it is he feels like he needs to do. But she's lacking the self-starting instincts to chip in where she's not sure what he would even need from her. Mostly.

"We going back to your place after this?"

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin nods some before disappearing into the remainder of the van to disable the bomb and retrieve the gas vial. Thankfully still liquid and not aerosol yet. He hops back out, looking grim. "Yeah, we can head back to the Roost until I'm summoned by the Boss," he agrees.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Is it really rolling of ones eyes when there is only one eye, and she could be just...looking upwards? Maybe? Probably. Either way, Rose pushes away from the car to head for him. This time she goes right into his usual bubble of personal space, toe to toe, and leans in until he can easily smell the fact she brushed her teeth after the burgers earlier, "Tell him you're busy."

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim blinks behind his domino mask. She's... really close. His heart skips a few beats like a dropped boombox. "Oh." That's all he manages to reply, thrown off entirely by the sudden reminder that this was, in fact, a date. He was going into detective mode and had forgotten for a few minutes.

Rose Wilson has posed:
Proof that Rose is probably bad for the superhero look. "You have anything else you want to do here?" There is probably no intended double-entendre to it, although maybe there is. She's still standing really, really close, after all.

Tim Drake has posed:
"Uh. Well. We usually ghost before the police..." he trails off. It took him a moment to catch that she might have a double meaning there. Maybe. Or maybe he is reading too much into this. "Sooooo. Probably... should... head... back? And we can..." he scrambles for a way of putting it. "Uh. Compare notes?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
"We can compare something." Something. Whoever knows what that cleverly decided something is! Doesn't matter, though. While Red Robin might get a pass by the cops, she probably wouldn't. So when he gets agreeable about ghosting before the police show, she turns to make a run for the building they came in from.

Tim Drake has posed:
Red Robin isn't far behind her. Besides, he has his car not too far away (what, do you think they walked to the Narrows?) and they can take it back to the Roost asap.