2509/Gotham: Demons In A Bottle pt 2

Gotham: Demons In A Bottle pt 2
Date of Scene:	18 July 2020
Location:	Wetworks
Synopsis:	The Bat Family halts an assassination-by-vigilante and captures the Black Spider.
Cast of Characters:	Illyana Rasputina, Tim Drake, Bette Kane, Dick Grayson, Julia Pennyworth, Rose Wilson

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Illyana Rasputina has posed:
~ Demons in a Bottle, Synopsis ~
In the last episode, the mighty and charitable gathered at the Wetworks distillery to raise funds for the Bushwick Massacre. Popular whiskey distributed in a thoroughly 007 theme went to the over-21s, and Bette got into the spirit of drawing a winning prize for a fat-cat banker, Roger. She never got that drink before he was promptly shot by someone on the brick distillery tower.

Rose charged the distillery tower with blood still wet on the ground. The Batbrats started scattering across the grounds, Bette swiping the banker's phone in her retreat. Tim shooed frightened civilians on his rushed run through the distillery doors to the rooftop. Not fast enough to keep Rose from engaging their assailant, the Black Spider.

Meanwhile, unflappable Alfred saved his whiskey flight and Julia after keeping the banker from bleeding out. Dick ended up shot by a crossbolt in the shoulder while guiding the distillery host, Alec, to safety inside. Leaving the youngest Pennyworth to tend to Dick, Bette joined the scrum in the tower.

To the present: Dick is inside the distillery with civilians Julia and Alfred in the rearguard to herd them in. Bette makes for the tower stairs. Stairs defy from Tim from reaching his bleeding, murderous girlfriend locked in a duel of knifey-crossbowie with the Black Spider. A trimmed black bolt lies buried in the flesh above her hip. The man in black tactical gear with a full hood and goggles moves damn fast, even for her.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
Last locations...

       TOWER                       DISTILLERY
     +-------+          +--------------------+
     |  R E  |__________|                   [ ]
     |                                       |
     |     T .----------.                    |
     +--[ ]--+     8 8  |            D       |
                        |             J A    |
        B               +-------------[  ]---+
                         88
                               8 8

          ----Party!----
                               ---Tables--

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim Drake... Red Robin, though sadly sans domino mask and, as Jason calls them, the Short Shorts of Destiny, continues his flight up the distillery stairwell. Fast. Not as quiet as he might like, as Italian leather dress shoes on metal stairs don't make for a quiet approach, especially at full tilt.

Ten more steps. He reaches into his chest pocket for his earlier-discarded tie, then wrapping it half way around his right hand.

Seven more steps. Tie clip clatters to the stairwell ignored, as Tim's fingers of his left hand snatch the front of his shirt, wresting downward apace. The shirt rips open, losing a button or two but mostly just popping open.

Four steps. He shrugs out of it, leaving just his black undershirt, flipping the red dress shirt around... for what? Tie wrapped around one hand, shirt flipped inside out and held in both...

One step. Door. Slam open.

        Robin flies.

Throwing himself at the dark form with the crossbow, Robin flips his shirt over the man's head to cut off his vision. The better NOT to recognize one Tim Drake with, and it's harder to shoot with your eyes covered.

Bette Kane has posed:
Kicking off her high heels, Bette is moving with haste and speed. How dare they shoot Dick! Black Spider huh? haven't heard that name in a while. Then again, she's only been living in Gotham full time again recently. Up the stairs, two - three at a time, she takes the yellow scarf from around her neck and half wraps it about her left arm, leaving a section dangling for weapon disarms if needs be.

At the very least she can fall back on her military career, part of her public persona, to explain her actions. The military is meant to be brave after all. They just don't teach the kinds of moves she learnt from her cousin Kate. Still, it's a good enough cover in this tight red dress. She wishes she were wearing something more sensible though. Next party, she's definitely wearing her military uniform instead.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick is allergic to crossbow bolts. It mostly hit flesh, the bone is still intact, but it hurts like hell. He is on the ground and looks up at someone nearby and lifts his left hand, "Mind helping me up?" He winces, and his suit does not exactly lend itself to easy movement like his Nightwing suit. The eldest Wayneling rumbles to himself as he his shoulder is causing that much trouble, so he looks over at the bolt and raises a brow, "At least this guy has branding?"

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
    Julia makes sure the last of the people are inside before closing the distillery doors. She turns to Dick, moving over to him in her now half-dress and leaning over to take his good hand. Again, she asks him, "...this normal 'round 'ere?" She seems quite strong, if Dick puts his weight into being helped up. "An' everyone else seems to have run off...." she muses, chuckling. "Hell of a party either way, an' a great way to make introductions, innit?"

Rose Wilson has posed:
Next party....Rose certainly isn't wearing THIS dress now that it's been punctured by a crossbow bolt, and bled on. But whatever pain the bolt embedded in her flesh is causing her, it doesn't slow Rose down. The knife that she'd pulled on her run for the would-be assassin is still in her hand, which is perfect timing.

Tim, bless him, is clearly trying to take the man down with that shirt over the head. But all he really does is give Rose the opening that she needs to move in, making a stab for vital organs. One thing people never think about, tactical gear doesn't cover everything, and Rose has been trained by the best.

Just don't tell her dad when she makes one very, very small miscalculation. Or...is it? As she moves in fast, faster than an average person should be capable of moving, she gets a faceful of Tim, the impact of which is enough to make her nose make a sickening crunch as it gets broken. But it doesn't stop her as her hand shoots out, getting Tim himself in the process before she shoves the knife into the unprotected soft spot of Black Spider's under arm.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The tower rises in a handsome brick block over the distillery and the connecting walk. By night, Gotham's city lights twinkle in the distance and floodlights generally add moody ambiance. Inside it's practically dark and Bette has to negotiate through the same dim settings as Dick. Her feet strike on rounded stone steps like rainfall. Another flight, switching back, she ascends higher.

Sounds of the scuffling barely penetrate from the crenellated rooftop. The hiss of fabric, the clash of metal, all are a dull melody.

Already in the fray, Tim manifests from the primordial shadows folding back to reveal the scrum in action. Rose's lethal speed and finesse might have met a near match, and despite her aggressive accusations, the Black Spider has a talent for dropping his shoulder at the last moment or switching up with a bowie knife yanked from a holster at his side. The crossbow remains in hand for an opportunistic shot, but he brings up the black tactical blade to intercept her vicious strokes. Her footwork is faster; he is stronger. A feint to throw her off gives an opportunity to blind him.

Shirt slips over those weird goggles and NerdBat learns smart-strong is a dangerous combination as the Black Spider whips around on his side and drops, folding, torso wrenched to hurl Tim into a classic throw. A knife slides through undershirt and undefended flesh, parting with a red smile.

It punches through the plates shifting around the torso, intended as much to take punches as ballistics. Not Slade's daughter. The knife nicks a rib and catches. He grunts behind the mask, and jerks away, leaving the blade red. But having a Bat used as a short-range batarang is probably not so comfortable either, so draw?

In the distillery Alfred sees to Roger, stabilizing the man in shock and continuing to pursue such business with breathless calm. Julia has Dick and the rest of the civilians, most of whom cower in booths or hide behind the large whiskey barrels. Alec the host staggers to his feet, gesturing at Mr. Second-Best-Handsome who held the great double doors open. "Let's get these barred. Close them up to keep anyone from getting in. We have another door to the tower there," he points towards copper vats. "Access to the belltower. I don't know it is so wise to shut that off but we might have someone fleeing out here."

Tim Drake has posed:
Stabbed and thrown. This is not NerdBat's greatest fight ever. Blood dampens the black undershirt , but at least the cut is fairly superficial. Even as he's thrown, though, Tim grits his teeth against the pain of the stab wound and the bruising from Rose's face hitting his collarbone hard enough to break her nose... he tumbles and rolls back to his feet. Basic Bat move, Black Spider.

He still has the tie wrapped around his hand, and while his desire to see to Rose does ping, his obsession with The Job overrides his chivalry.

Setting his feet he springs back towards the fray, bringing his hands up, the tie outstretched between them like a wide garrote. His shirt is still partially on Black Spider's head after all. The plan was still a go, just altered.

Bette Kane has posed:
Bette reaches the top of the stairs, the doors already open. Blood, knives, Tim's girlfriend can fight - well, she kinda of knew that but it hadn't really been absorbed in to her brain. She should pay more attention when people are making jokes about these things. It takes her only a few milliseconds to sum up what she's seeing. This guy is going down and no pleas of insanity are going to help him.

Bette rushes in, the man blinded but still deadly, she unravels her scarf and begins trying to catch that blade and hand. A delicate dance, blocking it from striking at Tim or Rose, but failing to actually capture it like she wants. She gives him a good punch to the side trying to force the disarm on him, though he is stubbornly keeping that dagger for the moment.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick accepts the help from Julia as he rises to his feet, his strength combined with hers being enough to bring him to stand. His bandaged shoulder still sore, but he can still move. "Normal? No, but not the most unexpected." He looks to the floor for something to use, and grabs a wrench for the vats with his left hand. Dick may have been born right-handed, but he's been trained to be effective with either hand. "This should do, thanks Julia!" He says and makes his way where he was originally going. Time for payback.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
    "Welcome. Give 'em hell, yeah? I'll keep things locked down here. You yell if ya need an extra pair of hands!" Julia calls out to Dick as he takes off with a wrench. She glances around and sets to helping barricade the main doors with a barrel or two. "Couldn't tell ya how many there are but if everyone runs off to scale the tower, then nobody's here to keep an eye on the rest. And Grandfather, too," she adds, "OI, anyone still able-bodied help me close them down yeah?" she whistles to the guests. Can't let the little lady do all the work, right? The... table-hauling wound-binding little lady.

Rose Wilson has posed:
There is a chance to be witty, and funny, and say hi, or something else to Tim when they come face to face. But Rose doesn't take the time to be witty, which it would probably failed. Anyways.

With the other pair going for Black Spider she hangs back, just so that she can mark where they are, what they are doing, and then she goes forward to take a kick at Black Spider's delicate area. Chances of him being armored there?

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
The open-air gallery is tight, cramped, hard to move in freely. Aside from the door, those paving stones under the sky cannot accommodate a full scrum. Rose and Tim add dimensions of complication on their own, the acrobatic tumbling of the NerdBat quite different from Rose caging him in. Two on one, there might be a chance for him to rip away that pleasant dress shirt from his face and still get a good kick in.

Bette blowing through the doorway changes that. Sweeping her scarf out has a somewhat limited effect; she snarls his wrist. The knife jabs upwards, snapping the scarf back to him where the shorter range makes those punches less effective to his reinforced sides. Armour plating absorbs the worst of it, and his greater strength teeters on a point of making any closed-fist blow or punch painful. Or a crack with the metal hand-crossbow, delivered with a swipe as he moves.

He's headed for the wall, backing up to take advantage of the low point between the stone-- It will twig for Tim, as much for Rose; he plans on going over.

Suicidal?

Maybe.

Dickhas to cross the catwalk separating the distillery with all the large vats and tubing used for producing the beloved whiskeys around here. They can cross it, looking down on the production floor, but the tower lies ahead. It won't be the fastest process. Julia has the easiest route since finding a few guests able-bodied and steady enough to start piling up a few tables and barrels in front of the door. The large beam being dropped down takes at least four people, including the wound-binding lady, and it probably breaks fire code.

Tim Drake has posed:
"I don't think so," Tim growls and slams his arms downward, using his grip on the tie to bind Black Spider's arms to his side using Tim's own arms from behind and the tie across the front, leaving Spider open for Bette and Rose. And also adding Tim's own weight to prevent the man from diving over, or if he does, forcing him to take Tim with him. It's a calculated risk.

Bette Kane has posed:
Bette sees the ploy, it's a good way to get out of this mess. It might have even been planned. But no, she's not going to let this jerk get away. He was probably paid, but for what - hopefully they can figure that out later with all the data she downloaded off the bankers two phones. Priority right now - black jerkface spider.

Tim has the right idea, not letting him get to that exit. She takes the low line, sweeping his legs and then body slamming in to his hips. Both her hands go to the forearm wielding the knife, pinning it to the floor with all her weight.

"It's over, give up. Police are almost here," she hopes, "and we have you three to one. Just hope you've got yourself a good lawyer buddy, you're gunna need one."

Dick Grayson has posed:
Dick nods to Julia, "Will do!" Wth that he tries to make his way across the catwalk, not having the same mobility as before and makes note of what is below him, but it is what it is. After a great deal of effort, the eldest Wayne kid keeps moving towards the tower, ready to help out his family in there, armed with his wrench.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
    "Aright, thanks. Take five, take a seat.. grab a drink?" Julia laughs, dusting her hands off after they finish locking down the door. "Hell of a party..." she says again, though the fight up in the tower would be even more of a shindig if she knew what was happening. She's more intent on keeping things together here, and heads towards Alec, the host, and nods to the various devices. "...got any plain ol' water here? Probably want to get folks hydrated, too. Can't live on whiskey, and something to sip might help calm some nerves..." she suggests, smoothing out her dress somet too.

Rose Wilson has posed:
A crossbow bolt to the hip really does typically limit the kinds of flexibility and manuverability that a person has, and it does take a bit of the edge of even someone like Rose. Probably wouldn't affect some people, but it slows her down, and the addition of people that frown upon killing also means that what might typically be a chance for a killing blow isn't taken.

Something that she'll probably be grumpy about later. But for now she just goes for the head, and when Bette goes for dragging the man down she takes a split second to make the choice before she shifts her stance, widening her feet dispite the arrow to the hip and spins her foot lifting up so that she brings her heel down on Black Spider's head with both the momentum of the kick and every ounce of that Wilson strength she can muster.

Illyana Rasputina has posed:
They fight, in their fight, they bleed. From broken noses, from gashed sides, from barbs punched in unprotected flesh.

Gotham is unkind to her children, as they have been so often unkind to her.

Eric Needham is strong, that much is a given. His body flexes and the armour defending against punches slides with him, giving that coverage. Trying to foil the Black Spider from leaping over the tower and to certain doom (or not) puts Tim at risk of that crossbow discharging, a bolt slamming short of Bette at close range. The two men twist, Tim being dragged, putting him at risk of a brutal elbow to the ribs. A bunched kick would be enough.

So close. So utterly close.

Except Bette is going for his legs. Her sweep has momentum but not much room for Rose to really work. Those boots scrape the ground. The Black Spider doesn't fully fall, jogged off balance. The knife is released, rendered inert, palmed under Bette's grasp. It, too, has that tiny arachnid carved onto it like the bolts currently decorating a banker, Dick, the wall.

The scraping clamour with grunts and kicks greets Dick as he comes to take his revenge. Below, Julia manages to get the pilings set. Another door out the back assures anyone who needs to leave in a rush can. Mostly the fear sticks in the air in a heavy miasma, wide eyes all around. People drink when Alec and Mr. Second-Most-Handsome dole out glasses of water or pop. No liquor. Courage comes from good old fashioned sugar-water.

They know nothing of a man dropped by a hit. They don't hear the crack of a goggle breaking, of a head hitting stone.

"Quite the party," says a tired twenty-something woman, leaning on her boyfriend. "But at least we're not Bushwick, right?"

Only in Gotham.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim grunts in exertion, having been driven to his knees keeping Needham controlled as best he can as the man was brought down and stunned. He thwips the tie back, roughly grabbing the downed and dazed man's arms and tying them behind his back before nudging away the dropped crossbow as best he can from this position. "Weapons. Get his weapons away." he advises.

Bette Kane has posed:
Bette rests weight on to Needham's knee as she kicks away the dropped dagger. She wipes her brow and then checks over herself. A bolt came //this// close to her and it could have been real bad. Real bad indeed. She realises she hasn't been cut, miracle of miracles. You rarely get out of a knife fight without a few cuts, hence the need for armor.

Taking off that armor will be the next job,... after she's caught her breath. She looks to Rose and Tim with a look of concern and a touch of delight. There was no way she was going to let this guy go. Such a bold attack, as if all the progress that had been made of late in Gotham meant nothing.

Dick Grayson has posed:
"Great, more stairs," Dick notes as he moves to join the fray, his improvised weapon up to guard like an escrima stick. Following the noise, he eventually comes to see Needham brawling with some of his allies. Dick stays quiet as he maneuvers his way there, getting ready to jump in when he sees an opening, knowing how Bette and Tim fight, and ready to take advantage of that as soon as possible to avoid causing unnecessary confusion.

Rose Wilson has posed:
"I can..." Rose starts, glancing at the knife in her hand, then she reconsiders whatever she was going to say, instead moving to scoop up the crossbow before move out of range in case Needham decides to figure out a way to put up more resistance. The knife she was using gets shoved back into the sheath beneath her skirt, and she grasps the shaft of the bolt in her hip to deal with it in the manner of all psychos everywhere. She tries to pull it out.

Julia Pennyworth has posed:
    Julia opts to help pass out drinks before pulling up a seat herself, choosing simple water instead of sugary options. "Not the sort of greeting to moving to Gotham I expected but..." she knocks back most of the glass and sighs afterwards. "...could've been worse. Guess we're on standby 'til th'cops and medics arrive, yeah? Someone did give 'em a ring I suspect?" she glances around the group. "...don't think anyone's dying tonight, at least."