2434/Court of Owls: Prologue - In The Grip of Talons

Court of Owls: Prologue - In The Grip of Talons
Date of Scene:	12 July 2020
Location:	R. H. Kane Building - Kingston
Synopsis:	Some curiosity on the part of Bruce Wayne leads him to a vicious battle against mysterious new...or perhaps very old...foes.
Cast of Characters:	Bruce Wayne, Strix

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Bruce Wayne has posed:
GOTHAM CITY, LATE FEBRUARY, 2020

The blueprints had been off. That was the first sign.

Bruce Wayne and his Company technically own more of Gotham City's real estate than anyone else, so when the historic R.H. Kane building was due for a large-scale renovation and restoration, it was just one of those routine things that crossed his desk at Wayne Enterprises. Something he or Lucius Fox would all-but-rubber stamp and move on to more important business. As was not uncommon for Bruce, a dozen or more things were all operating in their own spaces of his mind when the minor detail caught his eye and suddenly those blueprints, for a short while, became the focus of his entire world.

The R.H. Kane building was Gotham's tallest skyscraper. Bruce knew it well, even aside from being the owner (in spite of it carrying his mother's maiden name, the building had changed ownership long before Martha's generation). It was a valuable perch for surveying the city. A critical landmark for urban navigation, particularly on the rooftops. So it was attention-grabbing when he noticed the blueprints had the building about a meter too short.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It was an old building, so the superstitious omission of a 13th floor was already traditional when it was built. Most buildings still had a gap there, not quite a full floor (Though some did, using it as storage and the like). It was that which Bruce honed in on. The measurements were there, the gap accounted for, and yet somehow the math was not adding up. The real building had extra height that the blueprints did not reflect, and that made him curious.

So a tour was arranged. A chance to see the renovations in-progress. Bruce arrives in the late afternoon, chauffered by his ever-faithful manservant Alfred Pennyworth, who waits with the classic Rolls-Royce as Bruce makes his rounds. He feigns interest appropriately. Asks the pat questions that threaten to tip into the slight vapidity his public persona is known for. And at the appropriate time he excuses himself and asks to visit the men's room. As he's stepping into that particular space, he presses a button on his cell phone, which sends a signal that triggers a device he planted the night before, and the security system, or specifically the closed-circuit cameras, start to go on the fritz.

Bruce briskly moves to the elevator and presses the button for the 14th floor. Internally he counts as the high-speed elevator moves past each floor, noting the time-interval between the lights on the display above the door as they reach each one. Another small devices is magnetically affixed to the elevator control panel, and with another press of a button on the phone, the elevator comes to a halt shortly after reaching the 12th floor, but the emergency signal, much like the Security Cameras, doesn't get sent.

He knows he doesn't have a lot of time, but he quickly opens the emergency egress in the ceiling and climbs through, noting with a certain grim satisfaction that there is indeed a set of doors leading to a "hidden" 13th floor. Doors that account for the missing space in the blueprints. The elevator doors take some effort to pry open, but soon Bruce finds himself in...an unusual space.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
A short hallway leads into a wide, very dimly-lit room, with raised daises along either side. Plush, regal chairs...antiques by the look of them...rest atop those platforms...enough seating for about a dozen on each side. Carved on the wood paneling of the dais at regular intervals is a symbol of a stylized owl, and seeing it, Bruce's blood runs cold for a moment. It's the first piece of real evidence he's ever found for what he had long dismissed as a faded myth. While he might write this off as a long-abandoned remnant of something that once existed but no longer, that's not what the evidence shows. There's no thick layer of dust. No covers on the furniture. No cobwebs clinging to corners and ceiling. At a minimum someone is maintaining this space, even if there are no other signs of recent use. He takes a picture of the symbol with his phone, before tucking the device away for the time being. Another doorway leads into a smaller space...and now things truly become worrisome.

The room Bruce finds is clearly a...lair...of some sort. However the technology here is from another era...a time of clockwork and steam and tesla coils at best. It's not a lab, but one might be forgiven for thinking it so. Especially with the casket-like device sitting off to one side, hooked up to some of these clockwork contraptions. There is damage to the casket, or at least a large crack visible across the glass pane on its' front door. Off to the opposite side sits a rack with some peculiar gear upon it...an outfit that is unmistakably owl-themed, surrounded by a rack of a vast array of edged weapons. He doesn't recognize the outfit, but it mirrors what is being worn by the figure inside that casket. From what Bruce can tell at a brief glance, something is being pumped into the casket...liquid? Gas? IT's difficult to tell without cutting one of those lines, and he has neither the gear nor the time for a detailed analysis. His eyes sweep the room, and fall upon another object...a photograph. It's an old one...possibly late 1800's to early 1900s. Several figures are standing together in front of the foundations of a large building. Possibly the Kane building, especially as Bruce recognizes its' designer, his own Great-Great-Great Grandfather Alan Wayne. Only one other is immediately recognizable. Sebastian Clark...the Mayor of Gotham in the early 1800's. One of the city's longest-serving mayors before term limits were put in place. More and more odd pieces of the puzzle forming in his mind.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
It's only decades of finely honing his senses that alerts Bruce that he's not alone. It's not any specific thing so much as simply the sudden sense that another presence has entered the room. Bruce turns to find a man wearing the uniform of one of the building's security guards. A befuddled smile half-forms on Bruce's face as any of a dozen different airheaded excuses for his presence start to bubble to the surface, when he meets the eyes of the man.

Eyes that are framed by the face of one of the men in the photograph in his hand.

He's fast...as fast as any number of his most challenging opponents. Initially there are no words, only the flurry of motion as the "guard" lunges forward, and the battle is joined. There's no chance for playing this off as dumb luck, Bruce's defenses are pushed to the limit almost immediately, as fists and feet come at him in rapid succession, carrying no style he is familiar with, but nevertheless shows the signs of a highly experienced and deadly fighter. Bruce's counter-strikes are largely turned aside, until finally he lands a solid kick to the man's midsection, sending him stumbling back, crashing into the stand that holds that odd costume...but bringing him in arm's reach of the blades that hang on the wall behind it.

Bruce's opponent snatches several in rapid succession and hurls them at Bruce with deadly accuracy, and the Talon...for what else could it be but that figure spoken of in the dark rhyme that all of Gotham's children seem to know...draws first blood.

Not all of the blades find their target though, and at least one strikes some of the machinery connected to that casket, causing a shower of sparks and a sudden release of steam. And whether Bruce knows it or not the person in that casket is roused from her long slumber in the moments that follow, even as he lunges forward, ducking under another thrown knife and then shifting into a rapid flurry of strikes to try to put the Talon back on the defensive. But even as several strikes land...they barely seem to have any effect on the man, who only smiles coldly at him and notes:

"Been a long time since I've killed a Wayne. I was hoping you'd stop by, Bruce...though I would have preferred us both in our proper uniform."

And that fraction of a second of shock is enough for the Talon to land another strike, this time to Bruce's midsection. His turn to stagger back and painfully impact with a wall behind him. Talon's fist fails to connect with Bruce's head, though, leaving a crack in the wall where it connects, and Bruce moving into a rather inelegant tackle that brings both of them to the floor.

Strix has posed:
There's a soft *PANG* of latches on the casket being released, and a hiss of air as layers of cool mist flow out from the crack of the opening lid to settle on the floor. The figure inside tenses, sensing something amiss. This is not how she is usually woken up. Not this abruptly. Something is wrong.

She pops open the lid and assess the situation. There's a security guard and a man fighting. The security guard she knows as a fellow Talon. The man, however, isn't somebody she recognizes as a member of the Court. Security has been breached!

She pops out of the casket, light on her feet, and quickly engages the stranger. The first order of business is to get them disengaged. She quickly moves in and in perfect timing with her fellow assassin, swipes at Bruce's back with her claws. That should break them apart.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
The hiss from the opening casket serves as warning, and Bruce swivels into a low, sweeping kick to try to take Strix off her feet as she rushes in. The desired effect from Strix is still met, however, as it's the OTHER Talon that draws a line of crimson across Bruce's back with one of those blades. There's a hiss from him, and he combat-rolls away from both of them...and towards the door. It isn't often that you see the Batman in retreat, but he's definitely looking to make his way back towards that open elevator door, but there's a wide span of room to cross before he can reach it, and even that is hardly safe harbor if or when the Talons choose to follow.

William Cobb spares the briefest of moments to look at Mary, but there isn't time for explanation or question. "Stop him!" He barks, grabbing yet more of those throwing knives from the wall. Thankfully Mary's got several of hers already attached to her costume.

Strix has posed:
Mary nods, moving to flank Bruce, while throwing a few of those throwing knives at him. Their aim isn't necessarily meant to connect with the man, but rather help direct his positioning so that he'll end up between the two Talons.

There's a bit of jockeying for position before the oddly silent assassin strikes out with a kick, aimed at a knee to cripple the man. But the force of the kick just doesn't seem to carry the weight or power that it should. Mary grunts and staggers a bit, the effects of being woken up improperly and so suddenly starts to take its toll.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
A knife whistles by Bruce, and he stops a short way into the large room. He turns to face the Talons as they emerge from their "roost," Bringing up his fists in a defensive fighting stance, though the sleeve of one arm is darkened by a bleeding wound somewhere on it. To Strix's sight, the man is definitely not a Talon...the fighting style is wrong...but he is still clearly exceptionally well-trained. His discipline and calm remains intact even faced by two of them. Mary's precisely-aimed kick does buckle Bruce's knee, but he rolls with the momentum of his "fall" and actually tumbles between them, coming up swiftly, though it means taking another wound on an arm to block the first Talon's knife with a forearm. Still, that brings him in close enough to grapple, and grapple he does, managing to grab ahold of bits of the male Talon's uniform and shifting, sending him stumbling towards Mary in her seeming moment of weakness, trying to get his opponents tangled together so he can break for that elevator door...which he does. So close now...though he's well aware it's by no means a guarantee of escape.

Strix has posed:
Mary is visibly experiencing the side effects of being woken so abruptly. She stumbles dizzily, as she tries to regain her balance, but not soon enough to dodge William being thrown into her. She goes down in a heap of tangled legs and arms, but she still has some presence of mind to act.

Three daggers are thrown at Bruce, with a tight enough spread that surely at least one will hit. It may not be enough to stop him, but it'll certainly be enough to never let him forget this encounter.

Bruce Wayne has posed:
There's a grunt as Bruce feels the knife sink into his back, near the shoulder blade. Not much time to worry over it. Hopefully those things aren't poisoned. In either case, Bruce is through the elevator doors and onto the top of the halted elevator.

But he's not in the clear yet...William disentangles himself from Strix and rushes after, landing a flying kick on Bruce's back that sends him stumbling across the top of the elevator. Bruce keeps his feet, turning about with a device in his hands...a cell phone?

But the seemingly-harmless device unleashes a flash that's a few thousand candlepower brighter than the flash on any ordinary camera, and it goes off right in William Cobb's face, causing him to growl and instinctively reach for his eyes, temporarily blinded.

And that's when Bruce really lays into him, smashing a flurry of strikes against Cobb's midsection, following with an uppercut that catches the man under the chin, and finishing with a leaping kick that shoves him right back through the elevator door and onto his back, and positions Bruce to neatly drop down into the elevator on the recovery.

He quickly yanks the device off the control panel, and hits the button for the parking garage, cuing up a particular number on his phone as the elevator descends.

"Alfred...west elevator, bring the clean-up kit and make sure the area is clear."

He feels himself getting lightheaded from exertion, the slow fading of adrenaline, and blood loss. This was sloppy...damn sloppy. And while he'd like to be telling himself he'll be better prepared next time he's still only barely aware of what exactly he's facing. But he's certain of three things:

The Court of Owls is real.

They know who he is.

And now he's made himself, and his family, a target.