9230/Rumble In the Park

Rumble In the Park
Date of Scene:	22 December 2021
Location:	Sheldon Park - Bleake Island
Synopsis:	Dane and Roy handle the GCPDs light work in the wee hours of the morn.
Cast of Characters:	Dane Whitman, Roy Harper

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Dane Whitman has posed:
The Industrial Park of Bleake Island is a contested space among the riff raff in the wee hours before the sugar and caffeine kick in with Gotham's finest.

This offers time enough for the costumes to enjoy a nice morning stretch!

There's a new face this morning. One clad in somber steel by the looks of him. A warblade rests in its sheathe at his side, and he doesn't seem to need it as he grabs a man for a headbutt, absorbing a bat to his back unphased.

There looks to be at least two gangs this morning, the Jokers and the Two Face Gang. Usual rivals all over Gotham, making this nothing new. About a dozen and a half by the looks with all manner of simple arms...

Roy Harper has posed:
Arsenal has not been sleeping well lately. Things have been...difficult. After fighting with his bed for a few hours he gave up, put on the armor, and went for an early morning patrol. He spends most of his time away from Starling City, out from under the shadow of Green Arrow. The Outsiders give him the autonomy he craves and the team he needs. Gotham is his jam.

Finding fighting in the Cauldron is as sure a thing as finding salmonella in gas station sushi, so when he trots across a rooftop and hears the sound of battle Arsenal is unfazed. But wait a tic. Who is this? For a moment, the young archer stands at the edge of the rooftop, leaning casually on his bow, watching the scene play out. "I dig the armor," he murmurs. "The 12th century called and wants it back."

This dude doesn't look like he needs any help, but Roy's not a watcher. He likes to jump in and take part. He clicks a small thumb button on his bow, which results in a corresponding click in his quiver. Bow up. Grapple arrow in. Fire. The arrow sinks into a sign sticking out of a building. When it sinks it, three small anchors click from the arrow head and sink into the sign. Without thought or care, he leaps off the roof and swings down to the ground near the melee. He tucks and rolls smoothly with military-style efficiency, coming to his feet.

"Good morning there, Sir Lancelot," he says, though his tone is light and playful. "You out here making new friends?"

Dane Whitman has posed:
Rounding to throw a rib crunching sidekick into the man who tested old hickory against steel and leather, Dane replies to the new arrival,"Percival, if you will. Lancelot's another fellow."

Joking aside for a beat, he finds himself double teamed again as the Two Faces dabble in tactics for a change. One of them snaps a chain around Dane's gauntleted wrist while the other advances on that side with a sledgehammer. Maybe this will be a more equal threat? When Dane wrenches back, he nearly pulls the man over and snatches the chain for himself, whipping it at the hammer man before knocking him out with a hard cross!

Dane corrects aside to Roy then,"Black Knight, came for the music. Stayed for the breakfast."

Roy Harper has posed:
Arsenal whistles low as Black Knight simply yoinks the chain away from the attacker. "Aren't you the muscly armed paper boy." And here's where the cocky teen hero always gets himself into trouble: He loves to focus on the wisecracks and sometimes fails to notice the dude behind him, also with chain. Said chain snakes around Arsenal's ankles and yanks back, pulling his feet out from under him. Just as he's going down he says, "Name's Arsenal. I didn't know there was...." His chest hits the ground.

With a small growl, he rolls to his back. It's difficult to even separate out the individual motions. In the single second it takes him to roll he already has an arrow out and loaded in his bow. "Shoulda bought me a drink first," he snarls at the attacker who just put him on the ground. The arrow sinks unfailingly into the man's thigh. He lets out a howl and goes down, out the fight for sure. Maybe with some physical therapy there is a chance he'll walk without a limp someday. Maybe.

Dane Whitman has posed:
The Black Knight nods appreciably at Arsenal's archery. That's a rare level of skill in his world. Probably as rare as keeping pace with a gang fight in full medieval armor, realistically, but that's just how Dane rolls!

The big man surges forward to grab the man he whipped with the chain, open palm pressing to his face before he wheels around to send the man careening into the one Roy just shot! Rolling with the momentum, he whirls around to deliver a heel to the sternum of another as he replies,"Glad to meet you."

Coming to rest in a boxing posture, Dane collects his breath before adding,"Nice shooting."

Roy Harper has posed:
After untangling the chain from around his ankles, Arsenal does an effortless kip up to a standing position. "Thanks," he says in response to the Black Knight's compliment. "Did you say something..." He quickly ducks under a bat swing. "...about..." Arsenal baton-twirls his bow around his back to his other hand, smacking bat-attacker's midsection sending him doubling over. "...breakfast?" He whirls around with a spinning kick striking the doubled-over attacker's head, knocking him unconscious. That's a concussion. Kid keeps the rehab centers in business. "Cuz I'm starved."

Too bad he's focusing so much on being hungry because he might have noticed the thug about ten feet behind him who just aimed a .22 pistol at him.

Dane Whitman has posed:
The Black Knight half expected a quip about not knowing who Sir Percy is, or rather was. So a mild chuckle escapes at the finale about breakfast until he zeroes in on the shooter. He should have anticipated this.

They both should have, really.

Dane lunges to interject himself as two, then three shots ring out!

Bang, PING!
ang, PING!

By the third shot, the Black Knight is showing that he's not all Kingdom of Heaven as a golden triangle of light emanates from his left wrist, the translucent projection coalescing into the form of a transparent kite shield allowing his advance on the gunman!

Dane mutters coarsely in a dead Germanic language as his freehand balls around the handle of his sword...

Roy Harper has posed:
Arsenal exhales. He is both relieved and embarrassed. He's not making a good impression in front of King Arthur here. "Thanks, man," he murmurs to the Black Knight, all cockiness drained instantly from his voice. But, he's a smart ass right down to his toes so that lasts all of six heartbeats. Then he goes up on his tip toes so he can see past the taller hero. "You shouldn't have shot him," he says to the shooter. "He looks pissed. If I were me, I would run."

*crunch* The crisp frozen grass behind Arsenal cracks. As fast a blink he wheels around as one arm goes up to his quiver. In mid turn he mentally counts...one, two, three dudes sneaking up behind him. Before the spin is finished he has three arrows out and knocked in his bow. "Really?" he says to the approaching thugs. "Is this how you wanna die? Here in this frozen park?" The three look at one another and then just turn and run. "Damn, I think I kinda wanted to shoot them," Arsenal quips as he returns the arrows to his computer-assisted quiver.

Dane Whitman has posed:
When the remaining trio turn tail, Dane exhales audibly and hangs his head with suppressed swearing.

The shield at his wrist then snaps from sight with a soft sizzle as he turns and...chokes out,"Thanks."

A pair of fingers to his lips heralds a shrill whistle before somewhere a horse neighs high and loud....

Somewhere up in the clouds.

Roy Harper has posed:
"I'm the one who should be thanking you," Arsenal says. "You're a grade A badass." Then he hears the horse sound. His first thought is Gotham PD is here, but they don't use horses in the Cauldron. He looks up and lets out a light laugh. "Are you actually shitting me right now?"

He turns back to the Black Knight. "Are you...are you summoning a sky horse right now?" he asks.

Dane Whitman has posed:
The Black Knight collects himself as a pale spectre swoops down from the dreary heavens. Cellphones would be clicking hither and yon as yes, an actual pegasus has been summoned,"I appreciate your sentiment, but I shouldn't be here. I would have killed them, and that's.... not acceptable."

As he vaults on to the large beast, Dane blinks realizing Roy said something else then, and he adds,"Arsenal, this is Strider. A pegasus...which I suppose is indeed a sky horse."

He chuckles at that, personal gloom parting for the moment.

Roy Harper has posed:
Arsenal exhales a sharp, appreciative breath. "Wow. Terrifying winged horse is terrifying," he remarks. He keeps his distance. No childlike wonder here, he doesn't want the creature to stabby-stab his eyes out with those hooves.

As the Black Knight prepares his departure, Roy says, "Hey man, don't be hard on yourself. You didn't kill them. You can 'maybe' yourself into an asylum, or focus on the good you did here today."

Dane Whitman has posed:
Strider capers round, wings flapping as if showing off for a crowd as Dane takes hold of the reins. He replies,"You're right...and thank you."

The clattering of hooves and beating of wings comes to a stop then as Dane pats the side of his neck and he says a few calming words to his charger,"He's just annoyed he missed out. I'd rather not consider what his hooves would do. Anyway."

Sitting aright in his saddle, Dane offers in parting,"Your archery is a thing to witness. No wonder the gangs aren't bigger, it's not the cops. Keep it up, I may swing by again some time."

With that, those wings pound downward and up they go, gaining altitude and speed...

Roy Harper has posed:
Roy loves to minimize everything down into the confines of his sarcasm. It's how he deals with a world that has hit him pretty hard and dealt him some shitty cards. But right now he just stands in unabashed wonder as he watches a winged horse carrying an armored knight up into the sky. "See ya around," he says with a lift of one hand.

As he turns to walk away he says aloud, "Did that really just happen?" As he walks past one of the downed attackers, the thug tries to grab his boot. Arsenal just kicks the dude in the head and sends him back into la-la land.