Owner Pose
Selina Kyle     Gotham's predictably wet tonight. Hail melts in the streets after yet another sporadic shower. Anyone with reason to be out hurries on their way to get back to shelter, be it a cargo van, awning or beater car that sputters weakly in the damp.
    Combine the stink of wet garbage and briny water, and it's almost foul. The elements themselves are against visitors happening deep into Gotham's dock and warehouse district. Not without good reason, and a raving party hidden in a dingy warehouse isn't on the menu. A derelict paper factory actually serves as the venue, windows blacked out with sack cloth and corrugated tin to keep the red neon lights from spilling out. Down on the factory floor, large machinery under moth-eaten dropcloths acts as the background for a feast.
    A rather disgusting display of excess involves an awful lot of roasted meats on platters, served by terrified or coked-up youths in black pants and white shirts. A mafia churrascaria means men in suits and copious amounts of alcohol, security ringing the lieutenants discussing the latest money-laundering on the table. And trading in humans, musn't forget that trafficking angle.
    The air smells of chemicals. Hidden figures lurk in the dark, armed and happy to get involved with any trespassers. With the occasional trucks and bulletproofed sedans secreted all around, no harm in dragging a problem off to make a few extra bucks.
    Catwoman would truly prefer not to be shackled up into a van and injected by something to keep her quiet, cotton-mouthed, and confused. She's a far cry from the latest purchase a half-hour ago, escorted out weeping and hooded, to a new life that probably isn't the Kane County Cleaning Services ("For all your uniform needs").
Barbara Gordon Batgirl was out and about tonight. She'd been driving about the city in her personal version of the Batmobile. A smaller version than some of which Batman uses, with two seats, one behind the other, in a cockpit-style setup. The well armored 'sport' vehicle was near to the situation unfolding in the warehouses when she picked up the unusual comm traffic. Their radio signals were encrypted, which generally meant something less than savory was going down, at least when it comes to areas of Gotham like this.

The engine of the Batmobile goes in to stealth mode, as it pulls down a narrow alleyway, in to an all-eveloping shadow where it goes completely black.

There's a motion in the dark, something headed skyward from the alley, nearly silent in the dark Gotham night.
Harley Quinn Nothing stops Harley when she is on a mission! Winter, gloom, a rogue Superman or even a laughing clown! Okay, maybe that last one could....

Specially where money is involved! And tonight she was going to collect what Penguin owed her. Because how else can you get your poor old taco truck repaired for a new business venture she is prepared to go to with Ivy and April? Need to have the moneys!

So here she is in Gotham again. She first went to Tony, then to Louie, then to Frankie and finally to Bob. And it was Bob who told her where to find some of Penguin's goons. They would have her money.

"Well, Bob. I hope you awhe right or else I am bustin' the rest o' yoh teeth off yoh mouth.." She murmurs to herself as a sillouette reveals itself right at the entrance to that warehouse. "ALRIGHT BOYS!" she shouts out into the darkness without a single shred of subtlety. "I am heah foh my money! My next stop is the iceberg lounge if ya guys don't cough it up!" Harley knows she needs to be tough with these henches so they don't start having funny ideas. Too bad she hasn't been here in such a long time that she doesn't strike fear into people's minds as she used to. It's a mistake people don't do twice.

But in this case it seems these goons are ready to do that mistake as soon enough some of those shadows are beginning to move her way to deal with the trespasser.
Selina Kyle     A taco truck not having enough money means the truck sells something like soggy flautas or canister film. Not actual tacos. It's probably impossible to not run a profit on a taco truck.
    Penguin's goons chow down on abundant steak and beautifully grilled chicken on skewers. Few bother with the chicken but it's there for Giacomo, cause he's watching his waistline, and Iago, because the missus. They keep chewing and staring when the doors blow open to reveal... no, not the boss, some chit. Harley gets stared at for a bit, as though they're trying to place who she is, what she wants, and why she wants. She gets more than a few seconds of gawping. Sucks to be them.
    The enforcers do whatever they were trained for. Draw, stand in the way, shout profane comments like "You got a problem, honey?"
    It's a strange mix of meat and the caustic materials used to make paper still staining the air in weary corners. For once, Selina might be grateful for wearing a mask. Bringing in her motorcycle helmet was also a good move to filter out the gut-turning stench, but she has left it at arm's reach instead of wearing it.
    The careful plan to zipline down and snatch up the next of the staff sold off to the highest bidder or most indebted goes kaput when the doors open. She swivels, clinging to the spar that holds up a beam. 'You can't be serious' is practically on her lips, mouthed but not said. That's Harley. Of course that is Harley. Who else marches in like she owns the place? The Cat scrapes her fingers over the much-painted and slightly rusted metal, hoisting herself up to straddle it. She needs the leverage to move quickly to the center of the room. Creeping to get within reach of the table from two or three dozen feet up isn't desirable, but it's what she's got.
Barbara Gordon Selina moves right along that beam as she has the high ground, but she moves beneath an old dusty and dirty skylight on the roof, and with a flash of lightning, the brief outline of black, gold, and red can be seen for just a second.

When the lightning flashes again from another angle, there is nothing there this time.

Batgirl is listening from the roof, however, her cowl filtering the sounds down inside the warehouse to give her the voices being spoken there-in.

It's possible she's just waiting to hear what is going to go down next, or maybe it's just really hard to find a way inside...? Who knows!
Harley Quinn Honey? HONEY?! That's infuriating! And Harley shows them just that by putting her mean face on. Grrrr. Clownette mad. And also with a baseball bat in her hands. Which helps passing on the menacing look. Hopefully!

"A'ight. I tried ta be nice. But guess we will have ta go with Brooklyn rules after all." Uh oh. So the first guy that gets close to her? He gets hit where the sun doesn't shine rather hard with the bat. Hopefully he wasn't expecting to get laid in the next decade or so! He falls down with a whimper. "Ya know, if a gal comes ovah lookin' like a freakin' clownette and we are in Gotham what do you think it might mean?" She says in a rhetoric-like manner. "Pizza delivery?" she opens her arms to the sides as if she was acting for an audience, moving further inside, "Or maybe I am supposed to be house cleanin'? Which let me tell ya, this place stinks. What kinda operation are you guys doin' heah..." she looks around suspiciously. Because it takes a crook to know a crook and these guys are up to no good. She can smell it!

"Look, I just want the money big black and white owes me from like.., four years ago. And you guys awhe gonna fork it out." One way or another her attitude seems to say.
Selina Kyle     That sensation of something up above, outside the corner of her eye, twigs for Selina. She ought to harden herself against the discomfort. It's hard to resist, turning her head and spotting nothing. Old habits die hard.
    There, she shimmies on her belly across the narrowest stretch of metal worn down from the elements. Walking up there would be more comfortable with some kind of rigging, but her footwork isn't sure enough to make that wise. Not with someone lurking near the skylight and the shots fired up as a threat by someone with more bullets than sense.
    "Extra mozzarella and sundried tomatoes, baby!" is not the way to play along with Harley F. Quinn, but some one is a wise guy. Or he really does want to have a little fun, even if bones are breaking thanks to a bat, versus a Bat.
    "How much you talking? Five hundred?" asks another. He is still chewing on his well-done excuse for a skirt steak.
    The servers aren't smart enough to drop their dishes or move back. They cringe and hide away from Harley, though they stay near the table. Getting very far is clearly a bad move. Especially with violence on the loose. Selina tilts her arm down and looses a line, fired from a small projectile. The rough end is a bolt that punches through metal, lodged barbs springing after impact to anchor. She dives down from her crouch to the nearest upright beam holding up the ceiling.
    "You silly men, all worried about playing games rather than giving the lady," emphasis there, "what she wants."
Barbara Gordon There's a thud on the roof followed by silence.

In the shadows of the warehouse now, Batgirl jsut stands and watches. Her cape is down around her shoulders, better allowing her to blend in with the scenery as the two women now present themselves to the thugs of the joint.

One of the thugs is backing up closer, and closer to where Babs is just standing, but she doesn't make a noise, even as he looks up toward the thud from above. She just stands there, staring at him, listening, watching, and waiting.
Harley Quinn "Nah, it's moouh like a few thousand---" Harley stops when she spots the swinging cat. A beam of a smile appears on her lips. "Cats!" she tells Selina and waves at her all excitedly, pigtails bobbing up and down and she for a moment forgetting the very dangerous men all around her, "Penguin owes you some money too?" she asks the other, "Or are you heah foh somethin' else? I am guessin' you ain't workin' with these guys, it's too dirty foh ya. And I heard you weah sorta retired?" see? Gossipy conversation in the middle of a warehouse full of goons and victims. Typical!

"Guessin' you awhe heah ta mess them up because they awhe traffickin'.." She nods towards the servants, "Those people awhe showin' signs of abuse. Marks on their wrists. And not due to kinky bdsm."

"So ..., how about we kick ass like old times eh, Cats? Sirens back on the job?" Does Harley wait for a 'yes' from Catwoman? Nah, she just throws her bat to one of the goon's face. It rebounds off his nozzle, sending the man toppling to the floor and she running to catch the bat while it's rebounding off.

Seems it's time for some good ol' fashioned beatdown!

Meanwhile the guy backing off to where Batgirl is draws out a gun. Because always have a gun in a bat fight! He points it at fight starting to happen!
Selina Kyle     Sorta retired, the ignominy of it. She's not wearing the Batsuit, at least. Leave that for Barbara up on high, watching from afar.
    The aerial leap when Selina disengages from the line gives her a pretty short drop, under ten feet. She lands with a little more sound than she would like, but girls can't be perfectly soundless when they actually have mass. Corporeal object meets stationary surface, there's a noise. The moment she is rising, someone trains a gun on her, and she shakes her be-eared head. "Is that the way to say hello to an associate? Tsk, tssssk." The hissing sibilance stretches out into the moment. "Harley, darling, these gents have no manners."
    They have the guns and she has that almost languid saunter to the man holding the gun, almost daring him to test and see if her tailored black suit is made of anything more than a vinyl raincoat and lots of wishes. It's a good deal more resilient than that. Helps to have some money invested into it.
    "What's that we say about nice guys?" She tick-tocks her fingers back and dives past one of the skitterish servers too high on some chemical concoction to really understand what's happening. Muzzle-fire flashes in the red-soaked gloom. Hands break her fall against the back of a chair, sending it toppling, already spinning to kick one of the mafia lieutenants in the shoulder to wheel him over too.
Barbara Gordon The gun is drawn. The man makes his choice.

Batgirl's gloved hand comes up to wrap around his right shoulder and slam over his mouth and nose. Her left goes around his waist, where she just holds on to him as he starts to shout something in to her hand. Muffled, quiet. A capsul breaks on his teeth, pouring something over his lips, tongue, and in to his throat.

Batgirl just holds him, in the shadow, her left hand clutching that gun now as she crushes it with her suit's strength enhancing feature.

He thrashes about a few more seconds before he's out.

And gone.

Up in to the air, Batgirl goes, leaving the man to hang upside down from the rafters, just in case any of his companions shine any lights around to look for him.
Harley Quinn "I swear... Evah since we stopped bein' bad girls..." Harley kicks a guy's face out of the way on her rampage, ".. this city is going all to heck." she lets out a dramatic sigh. "It's like people have no manners no moouh! And really, human trafficking?!" she shakes her head, "That's freakin' low."

And there goes a guy flying out a window. Seems like Harley hasn't been skipping biceps day? Or maybe it's just that little boost from a little Ivy giving her a little more strength than she should have.

"Oh hey!" Yes, she saw the black and golden. "Is that Batgirl?!" she says. Go go, Harley, breaking people's cover like that! "Which one are ya? The blonde, the redhead? The brunette?" because batgirls are color coded by her hair according to Harley.

"You workin' with the bats now, Cats?" She asks her old partner in anti-heroing.
Selina Kyle     "Is it not worth your while being respectable?" The question for Harley -- and Batgirl up there -- comes after Selina rolls onto her hip and brings her knees up. Both feet together give a terrific kick, force knocking back another man running at her. She doesn't need her elbows when she uses a modified form of taekwondo to open up space, and when someone grabs her arm? They are soon shouting and doubled over from the vicious claws that tip her gloves. They help for more than climbing, carving a raked set of four lines through a coat and shirt. The gun holster snaps, a weapon falling to the ground and skittering Harley's way.
    "Being down and dirty is so easy. Cheap." Another kick goes for the knee, a sick pop sounding awfully loud. Two of the goons think better; fight another day, and run for the back end of the gloomy hall where escape is easier. "Messy." Ugh, like she could ever put up with messy! Perish the notion, while some terrified trafficking victim covers their neck with their hands and hides against the wall.
    A smile would be appropriate, but she isn't smiling, circling opposite of Harley in a dance that mostly covers the bases so no one attacks them from behind. Shots would be ugly. "You can come down and play. It's perfectly safe. We won't tell."
    Ooh, that's a punch to the stomach and a slap to the face, but the former connects. Latter, not so much.
Barbara Gordon The group of men rushing toward the back hallway for a easier escape are suddenly engulfed in a burst of smoke that puffs out all around them. What follows is a series of manly man screams that in no way suggests that each one of them has just urinated their finely stitched gangster pants!

The screams are accompanied by heavy pounding thuds before the noises are quiet again.

Then up in the rafters, Harley's answer is given as indeed it's the red headed Batgirl variety.

She just stands there now, looking down at everyone still standing on the ground floor below.
Harley Quinn "Red!" Harley exclaims delightedly. Clearly her favorite Batgirl. Because of course it is, she was the one that got her into the Birds of Prey after all. "Theah you awhe. You know I should be cross with ya.." She kicks one of the fleeing men on their arse to help him to get quicker to the smoke bombs outside. "Nevah heard of ya again aftah we went to karaoke. And you didn't even sing!"

"And you guys." This Harley says to the servers, "Move out to the main door, police should be around soon. Or well..." she looks up, "... Mmm, maybe half hour." look, she knows how cops work in Gotham okay? "What I mean is you guys will be all right now!"

And finally her attention is back on Selina, "And it's not about being respectable. It's almost as if we should be bad girls to keep all these henches in line!" Truly Harley logic, and with the fight slowly starting to quiet down it means it's time to talk. "So, what's been up with you. Did you find a new guy? Still pining on Batsie? Let me tell ya, it's never good to obsess over a man!"

Harley knows it well!
Selina Kyle     The first secret of villain school is not to reveal who your favourites really are. That's a foolish way to go. Red brings Selina up short from punching someone in the face, checking that cowl if it becomes visible. Different Red from the Woman of the Bat. No need to report letting that jab through her defenses, or the harsh double-kick shoving him back to Harley. "You take care of that," she hisses.
    "These kids need help." An obvious fact, the eight or so aren't really up to running away or any good. Crying and cowering is about the best they can do. One stuffs a few roast beef slices into his mouth, uncaring that the juices run down his chin. They're all young, hungry, and probably malnourished to look that heroin-chic. They can be herded pretty well, staggering or dazed though the poor victims of all this might be.
    "They forget the city they're in. What do they think they are?"
    A little harsher than she intends on that, instead of slinky and sweet, but her blood is up. No disrespect meant to Batgirl up there. "I've been prioritizing me. It gets so hard to find the time." She picks up one of the fallen guns in a napkin, making a face under the mask. "Starting to feel a little... mmmm. Slinky. The toys aren't shiny as they used to be. Are you shining up well, Harley? Karaoke with a Bat? Why, how things have changed. Fascinating. Tell me more while we clean up?"
Barbara Gordon The redheaded Batgirl just stares down at Harley, whatever she's thinking, or feeling after the Clownette casts up those carefree words her way are yet still a mystery. She notes Selina's presence too, and after a moment she just drops down from the rafters.

"What have the two of you gotten yourselves in to now?' Comes Barbara's voice, not altered by any suit function, just her regular voice, feminine and sweet.

She looks around at the food that was being consumed.

"How can anyone eat anything with that horrendous smell in the air?" She has to ask in general of everyone with ears and still conscious minds.
Harley Quinn When Selina double-kicks the poor guy towards Harley it has the clownette nimbly sliding out of the way, "Ole.." almost as if she was bullfighting! And then she helps him go to sleep land with a bat to the back of the head. It's not delivered in that hard a manner! So he might just have a concussion. Might. "This is why I am gettin' my Harley Hole rollin heah in the city. These henches need some kinda code. They can't just keep doin' this shit and think it's okay.." whatever is she talking about now? Harley Hole?!

Harley does start frowning when she sees the state of the captives though, "Well, you guys are safe now." her tone now lower, a big contrast from the loud way she was talking with Cats and Bats, tender and sweet. "We will make suwah you awhe well taken care of.."

"And I am innocent, Bats! I was comin' heah ta get some money that's owed ta me and found these sorry people doin' this kind o' shit." She shakes her head to herself. "Good thing you two dropped in. You weren't stalkin' me, were you?!" she asks with a little suspicious tone to her voice.
Selina Kyle     "Goes to show they have poor taste." Since Harley hasn't fallen into that quip, the Cat rather has to. She doesn't even crack a wince at the bat coming down on the miscreant with nothing better to do than lie sprawled out unconscious.
    Her shoulders scrunch and straighten, and she runs her hand across her hip to resettle the whip there. No need to pull it out and break the speed of sound with it, so her Indiana antics will wait for another night. Barbara earns a measured look through those goggles, coloured lenses not quite hiding the wide eyes. "Why me? Making sure the strays get homes. A little worse for wear but alive thanks to us." A little circle of applause follows, dry and quick. "Tada, most outstanding. Let's do it again sometime. Karaoke not required."
    A smirk and a flourishing bow too? She's in quite the mood.
Barbara Gordon Barbara's green eyes are first on Harley who gets a smirk across her visible lips. "Harley." She says in that 'way' that Bruce might speak to Selina. "Do you really want 'these' people's money?" She asks the Clownette who is skipping past her in front of her.

She likely knows the answer to that though, and instead sweeps her green eyed gaze TO Selina then.

"It's good to see you out and about." She tells the Cat. "You look... re-invigorated. I hope your reasons for being here are just to stretch your claws a bit..." She says with another little smirk showing there-after.

Selina, and Barbara, likely have plenty of knowledge of one another outside of the cowls and goggles.

Babs' eyes then go around the situation. "GCPD is almost here, you two. I think I can handle things from here..."