Owner	Pose
Killer Croc	Gotham City does not in fact have a thirteen times greater number of bank robberies per capita than the national average. It's really closer to five times the national average, but the numbers /do/ climb when factoring in the number that involve some sort of costumed or otherwise 'enhanced' perpetrator. For his part, Waylon Jones isn't well-read on crime statistics. But to be fair, in his opinion he's also not robbing a bank. The ringing alarm klaxons, the earlier gunfire before someone roughly seven and a half feet tall threw the bank security guard through a heavy wooden desk might indicate there's a bank robbery going on. But /he/ isn't robbing the bank. The guys in ski masks with automatic weapons are robbing the bank. Killer Croc's just waiting inside the front door of the bank, snarling under his breath and eying the clock on the wall, "Five minutes... goddamn rookies always underestimate how long it takes to open the safety deposit boxes. And these guys are greener than the godda- HEY BOSS!" Killer Croc cuts off mid sentence when he spies said robbers piling out from the back of the bank, whereupon he flings the front doors open with enough force to crack the safety glass and twist the hinges so they won't swing shut again. The robbers are making a bee-line for a late model Ford Rustbucket with one original factory hubcap still stubbornly hanging onto a wheel. As the robbers pile into the car with their ill-gotten goods, it becomes readily apparent that there's no room for Croc, given the sirens approaching, and his seeming lack of worry, this is, apparently, all according to plan.
Barbara Gordon	The criminals of Gotham City are amongst some of the most bold in the world. Is 'bold' the right word? Nevertheless, the alarms were sent out, and they spread across the network of monitoring systems that were available to Batgirl's watchful eye over the city. Since regaining the use of her legs, Barbara's blend of what she'd learned from Batman, mixed with her own tech-savvy approach, had created quite a dance of the 'old style' with 'the new style.' Case in point, Batgirl's flock of Bat-drones arrived over the bank before she even did. They were high in the sky, and were sending a live feed of everything taking place at the bank directly to Batgirl's eyes within the cockpit of her armored Batmobile vehicle. Not as large as Batman's own, Batgirl's car was designed with a two-seater setup, much like the cockpit of an Apache helicopter, or a jet fighter. Seated in the front chair, Babs' eyes are on her displays as she both drives the vehicle, and observes the situation unfolding. It's her live feed that lets her know where the criminals are getting out too, and she'd have to hand it to this group... they worked fast. Really fast. 'Killer Croc identified' a AI voice says to Babs who just tightens her jaw as she drives her vehicle with an aggressive turn down a nearby alley. The four large tires growl across the pavement as it hurls itself through a line of trash, and through a partially closed chainlink fence! Croc might sense something is amiss a moment before it happens, the sound of a roaring engine, followed by the sudden sight of a net launcher being fired from a cannon mounted on the top of the Batmobile! It fires right at him, as the black armored vehicle comes roaring down the back street toward the infamous beastly gangster!
Killer Croc	Croc's really far more focused on the sirens, cracking his knuckles, rolling his shoulders, generally limbering up from that earlier light workout of 'Throwing a guard through a desk' for the more serious 'Make the GCPD insurance premiums increase enough to upset criminals who've gone legit and pay their taxes' exercise when he hears it. The unmistakable roar that so often answers crime. An oncoming vigilante! Dang. And here he was looking forward to just hurting some police officers. Mind you, he doesn't notice the drones above, because... well, Croc's not the smartest cookie, and 'looking up' is not something that comes to mind right away when you're a hulking reptilian monster. The roaring engine isn't exactly stealthy, which means Croc's waiting when the Batmobile squeals around the corner and he takes the first few heavy steps to break into a sprint. Most people don't try to run head-on into an armored car. MOst people are COWARDS. Also, most armored cars don't fire goddamn nets out of the grille to tangle up onrushing monsters. Of course, that's not all good news. While Croc's suddenly enmeshed in a net, being enmeshed in a net is a lot like being locked in a small box. Which, you know, triggers all kinds of bad memories. Bad, panic and rage-inducing memories. The good news is, the net feels know pain as claws and teeth slash and rend and tear free as the Batmobile closes in! It's not enough to end the fight, but it's definitely got him focused enough on mindless rage that he's not thinking ahead like it's a chess match. Of course, the fact that he's frothing at the mouth might indicate that he's not real big on 'thoughtful, considered tactical enagement'. Crocs gonna Croc.
Barbara Gordon	Was the net purely designed to take down the Croc? Not really. It was more of a general use kind of net, if such a thing could exist! It was a great way to tie him up in the moment though, while the Batmobile closed its final distance with rapid motion behind it! Before it could stop, the canopy over the cockpit suddenly popped open, and from within it a dark figure shot out of the interior of it! In to the dark of the alley above the Croc, the figure launched up toward one of the buildings where it blended in amidst the shadows covering its exterior facade... The Batmobile? It kept driving. AI guided now, the vehicle just roared on past the Croc, intending to track the criminals that he was working with, before any of them could ride off in their own vehicles, with a few of the drones high in the sky moving along above it to help feed the vehicle data information that helped the AI drive the armored car, when it lost its Human component... Within the shadows now, Batgirl eyes Croc. She watches to see him rending and tearing at the net, knowing he's going to take it apart in mere moments, she strikes! Batgirl's cape spreads open, black on a dark gold lining, the cape flutters around her, as she descends toward the Croc, with her golden booted feet extending out at the last second to ram right in to his chest at high speeds of her gliding descent! Fwooosh! She drops to the ground then, in a crouch, her form rising up to a very not-intimidating height (compared to him), her cape fluttering around her shoulders, her long fiery red hair flowing out the back of her Bat-cowl...
Killer Croc	It's not really difficult to get Waylon Jones to give up the steering wheel as it were to his animal instincts, and the net's certainly done a good amount of work. So while he's trying to track movement and threats, and he senses /something/ fly up from the onrushing car, he can't put two and two together and get four. Or... motion and humanoid shape being Bat-person. The Batmobile is /also/ moving, and it's moving directly at him. He springs towards the car, claws slashing, and there's a terrible, unpleasant shriek of sharpened, durable claws on... metal? Polymer? Whatever the Batmobile's made of, it's going to have a set of scratches down the side that look /super intimidating/ as it roars past and keeps going. Croc coils to leap after it, only for a figure to drop and land with authority.The cowl... the cape... Croc might be running on animal instinct, but there's enough processing power in that reptile brain that he recognizes that the Batmobile is gone just in time for booted feet to thud into broad, muscled chest and rock him back. Johnny Malnetti, crew leader of the bank job? He'd be ten feet back, sprawled out and trying to remember what breathing is. Croc? Croc staggers back a half step, head sharking, breath snarling out, bright but mindless eyes locking on the crouched figure that has just landed from rebounding off him, hands clenching and unclenching in mindless motion, that cape flutters, that cowl strikes a familiar silhouette... Croc roars, an echoing noise of anger and unfocused hatred. It might sound like he yelled 'Bat!!' but he didn't! It was just a wordless shriek of animal rage and hunting drive. Hunched over to lower his center of gravity, Croc dives forward, clawed hands stretching out, sweeping to try and capture that figure in a... bear? Croc? Hug. Grapple. A grapple.
Barbara Gordon	Barbara spent the better part of 10 years in a wheelchair, out of the Gotham street fights. Her 'formative years' you could even say. But in the past two, she's been working on steadily increasing her street cred. Of course her sudden appearances always get mixed reactions, some intimidated, others... not so much. None of it really matters though, as her duty is always the same. Stop the criminals, save the innocent, enforce justice. Etc etc. The Croc though? He's a certain kind of fearsome foe to face off against. Babs was heavily trained to easily dispatch your average thug throughout the city. Her extensive training in combat sports throughout her teens, with the latter couple of years being personally trained in Batman's own martial skills, she had talent, she had the training, but she wasn't as deadly of a fighter as others within her family dynamic. But, she has an ace up her sleeve, so to speak. Potentially several of them... In the 10 years of being in a chair, Babs mainly focused on tech, and the 'dream suit' she'd someday create once she was back on her feet. This is what she mostly has done now, and is currently wearing, no less. She's right there, right in front of him, and thus it isn't hard for him to get a hand on her. She does duck, but he's fast! She has to pivot, and twist her body to try and toss him over her shoulder... and her suit? IT's equipped with a internal skeleton system which boosts Batgirl's physical strength. She has the strength to bend the barrel of a rifle, or even lift up the back of a car to move it out of her way, should needs be... Against Croc? She's just hoping it's enough to send him across the alley, and in to a wall. Maybe even surprise him some on how strong this Bat-vigilante is too!
Killer Croc	Croc's never really learnt or grown from his personal experiences. Well, not since the dark morass of childhood trauma and other issues that made Waylon Jones into Killer Croc. Oh, he's learned a little bit at the hands of the Suicide Squad, but nothing that's fundamentally changed that animal side of him. Which is why he really doesn't see it coming when Batgirl's enhanced armor gives her the get up and go to put some /oomph/ in that throw. He hasn't even had time for primitive reptile mind to decide if he's going to try and hurl the relatively tiny figure or just smash it into the ground when the ground's /not under him/ anymore!/ Well, not for a second, before he's smashing into a pile of urban debris in the alleyway, tumbling through trashbags, head slamming into a dumpster hard enough to dent the metal. That sharp blow to the head is enough to align some braincells though. That metal hurt! And if it hurt him, it can hurt Batgirl! There's another rending shriek of metal doing what metal shouldn't do, Croc piercing the sides of the dumpster with claws as he's staggering up and lifting the heavy trash receptacle only to hurl it wildly, sparks flying as it grinds along the asphalt towards Batgirl. He's a little slower... and that throw was a good five degrees off target, like maybe in the fight of Croc Head vs Dumpster, it was a bit of a draw.
Barbara Gordon	Batgirl knew that Croc was at least smart enough to get used to some of what she was bringing to this fight pretty quickly. He was a scrapper, afterall, and his durability was a lot higher than most she'd fought, though she did tangle with Grundy back in December... Her Batmobile came away from that fight much more damaged than just clawmarks on that night... When she sees him rise up, she's simply standing there watching him, assessing his situation as he was not, unfortunately, knocked unconscious by her pivot-throw. She watches him decide on a counter-attack, and sees him moving for the trash receptical. 'Great...' Babs thinks to herself, quickly steading her stance, spreading her booted feet out a little, and preparing to lunge! When it comes, she does just that, diving and rolling over her shoulders toward her left, coming back up in to a crouched position with one knee down on the ground, the other up with her left gloved hand resting atop her thigh. Her right gloved hand drops down to her utility belt where she activates a little device, the tell-tale sound of electricity sizzling as her gloved hand reveals some kind of a tazer-weapon. "Croc." Batgirl speaks, her feminine voice modulated to make it sound more intimidating, in a demonic sort of way. "This is enough, the GCPD is on their way. They are loaded with counter-offensive tools to take you down, assuming you even could finish me off." She states, her she-devil voice rumbling around them as she stands up to her full height again, her black and gold cape billowing out behind her in a strong summer wind rolling down the back street. "Turn yourself over to me... It will be best for everyone..." Apparently she's trying to 'reason with' the Killer Croc.
Killer Croc	Croc's motions are slowing, less wild, animal brutality, more cunning, more controlled, head shaking like a punch drunk fighter trying to clear his thoughts. He squares off against Batgirl a little more warily, a touch more upright to tower over the svelte, costumed figure, head rolling slowly, "Pffff.. GCPD? They're gonna hold back until we're done... They're /janitors/ in this city." Words, spoken for the first time since that net wrapped him up, Croc slowly circles, keeping his distance from Batgirl as his eyes dart down to her gloves... he /heard/ that sizzling, he can see the little arcs of electricity. His jaw sets. He can't just give up... but, well, he /did/ get involved in a riot at Arkham awhile back and some powerful tasing was what took him down. He shakes his head slowly, hands rising up, fists balled like he's preparing for a boxing match, "Awww, c'mon... you can ask nicer'n that, can't you?" He snorts and mutters, "I mean, for one thing, y'sound like a broken Subway speaker..." And then he's darting forward, leading with a left jab that's really more size and enthusiasm than trained boxing skill. It's hard to get lessons in actual fighting styles when you're eight feet of reptilian and people keep shutting down the underground fight rings in Gotham because of all the kidnapped participants.
Barbara Gordon	A few months back, Barbara actually participated in one of those underground fight clubs, alongside Elektra Natchios no less... Of course, it's quite a lot harder when you don't have your fancy suit and tech! Batgirl didn't think she'd be able to talk this brute down either, and sure enough, he's lunging toward her! She's right there to welcome him too. She ducks under his punch, and twists her body around to swing herself out to his other side, before she strikes upward with her electrified hand! How many volts is enough volts to fry a Crocodile though? Either way, she's committed to finding out now, and if it's not enough, then he's right up on her now and can likely get a grip on her, or get her with another timely, and punishing pummel from his powerful arsenal! Above the Bat-drones continue to float and flutter about in the wind, observing the fight from high above, while the rest of her flock has moved on to pursue the rest of the bank robbers that were helping the Croc tonight. That's Gotham, action all over the place some nights!
Killer Croc	Croc's fighting with /both/ sides of his personality, that low, cunning street tough, and... well, lower cunning reptile hunter. It's not enough for him to hit Batgirl, but it's enough that he's throwing a pretty tight and vicious combo of blows for her to dodge and dip around when she launches her hand in an upwards blow! But Croc? Croc's smart now! He's thinking! He's /tactical/! He's... really only thinking enough that his tongue's not lolling out when that hit strikes the underside of his jaw and CLACKS it shut. That strike and the crackling discharge of electricity rock his head back, before his chin snaps back down, arms and legs straighten, and he topples back onto his back in the middle of the street. He snarls out, shaking, jerking limbs lashing out to try and grab an ankle, voice slurred like that reptilian tongue isn't quite cooperating with his attempts to move it, "That... wasn't very... heroic!" Really, it's not like /he's/ planning anything heroic, if he manages to grip her ankle he's just going to swing her and see how /she/ likes being tossed around Gotham's streets.
Barbara Gordon	Batgirl rises back up to her full height as the Croc is sent down on to his back. Her cape falls around her shoulders, but she keeps her hands up, her elbows holding her cape from falling around her forearms. She's moving toward him, and pulling a bolo-strip out from her utility belt when his hand grips hold of her ankle, and the powerful beastly criminal has a chance to throw Batgirl now! In a blur of black and gold, she ends up smashing back in to a trio of rubber and plastic trash containers, her body rolling right in to them, her cape wrapped around her tightly as she lets out a series of grunts and exhalations that are equally modulated by her cowl's mechanics. Pushing herself up to her hands and knees, Batgirl throws her cape back over her form, to give her more agility as she is quick to try and get back on her feet before the Croc can steady himself again. From high above, one of Batgirl's drones comes buzzing down out of the sky, a 'bombing run' of dropping explosive stunning pellets around where the Killer Croc is located, trying to distract him, and dissuade him from advancing on Batgirl again! In the distance, the sound of the GCPD sirens can be heard getting rapidly closer by now too.
Killer Croc	Croc snarls out, a vicious and victorious sound as Batgirl goes flying, and it buys him some time to scrabble onto all fours, and then up onto his feet.... with only a little bit of unsteady swaying because his nerves are still jolting, He's gathering himself, stepping towards the vigilante when suddenly a drone comes buzzing down and unleashes a rain of explosives , concussion and stinging pellets drawing out a wound, snarling noise of animal rage. His head shakes, trying to clear the ringing, one pupil might be a little more dilated than the other... and he's having trouble walking a straight line towards the stunned vigilante. But he can hear those sirens, and while Croc might be dumb, he's not stupid. He does his best to shakily rush into the middle of the street, grabbing the manhole cover and flinging it towards the drone in a petty act of revenge. He /glares/ towards the black and gold form of Batgirl regaining her footing, "Sorry, Batgal! I think you /and/ the cops isn't really a fair fight! But if you wanna go for round two... well, c'mon down! You know it'll be fun!" And then Croc's doing his best to /quickly/ clamber into the sewers and make an escape. Even if he's going to be looking over his shoulder the entire time just in case.
Barbara Gordon	Batgirl is back on her golden boots pretty sharply, mere moments after Croc flees toward the street nearby. She advances toward him, her march a dedicated and determined posture, with her long hair, and flowing cape moving in the breeze sweeping around her body. She is about to launch another electrical device at him, as he taunts her, before he can leap down in to the open manhole... The cover that he'd thrown had slammed in to a building, leaving a chunk of concrete missing from the building now, but the drone it was flung at turns about, and begins to sweep back toward Barbara's position. Batgirl stops at the open sewer hole, she stares down in to it... judging her decisions. Going down there would be a bad decision... That's essentially his home turf. The drone, however, hovers a few feet above Batgirl's cowled head, and with a glance up toward it, she communicates with the AI that drives it, and soon the drone is lowering down in to the sewers below... Around the darkened street, the blues and reds of GCPD police cars running-code offers a haphazard illumination to the environment, as Batgirl glances down at her gauntlet computer to check on the status of her Batmobile. "I'm gonna need a bigger gun..." She mutters as she stares at the holographic display illuminating her face in the darkness. Down in the sewers, her Bat-drone hovers slowly around, searching this way and that with its own monitoring devices.
Killer Croc	It's not too often that things go according to Waylon's plans. Partly because his plans are usually missing several steps and he can't spell 'contingency' let alone come up with one. But there's always that one lucky break. The fact that eventually, as things get more desperate, it really stops being Waylon's plan. And starts becoming Croc's. That animal brain isn't oriented for detailed planning or abstract goals. But direct, straight forward ones? 'Escape'? That it can grapple with just fine. This does mean the drone hasn't got a difficult time picking up Croc's trail, there are fresh gouges in the long-worn brick walls, and a grate that normally blocks off access into the unused, abandoned network of utility tunnels and old steam pipes that's clearly been battered out of the way. That poor drone just has the bad fortune to be something that's moving and making noise, and Croc has hit the point that truly makes him a danger to Gotham. because, really, he's a nuisance when he's just filling in as dumb muscle for some crew of criminals. But now he's an animal, and he's running on instinct. There's likely a moment of video feed where he can be picked out from his position clinging to the tunnel ceiling with those lethally sharp claws digging into the brick, before he's on that drone and the feed is full of wickedly sharp teeth before the feed cuts out. Of course he doesn't eat the drone. He just bites and claws into it only to find nothing but circuits and wires and other things that even Croc's clever enough to know aren't food. And leading from the scene of the drone's sad fate there are more scratches on the walls, claw marks on the floor, even a couple of those steel-hard scales stuck in gaps in the bricks. He's not /hard/ to track really. But who'd /want/ to track down almost a ton of angry reptile?
Barbara Gordon	Batgirl sure doesn't want to. But it is her job, isn't it? Where once she was still on the street in front of the open manhole, now she is gone. A GCPD squad car rolls up to the open manhole, its driver getting out to stare with confusion at the absent iron cover. The drone had been sent down to make sure that Croc wasn't setting up a trap for Batgirl to just leap headlong down in to. She'd seen it was clear, she'd seen him tear in to the drone, and she'd taken her move. Like a shadow of motion, she dropped in to the sewer, landing with the aided ease of her lightly powered armored suit helping her just tank a drop down in to the undercity... She bounced backed up to her full height, with her cape falling around her shoulders. Batgirl's green eyes scanned around in the dimly lit lower levels. Some parts of the city's sewers were in better shape than others, some even had lighting fixtures behind metal covers, but down here seemed to be more dilapidated than upkept... Little eyelits come down to cover Batgirl's emerald eyes, with the low-light vision being granted to her now. She proceeds ahead, her lithe form keeping to the shadows as she was trained by Batman himself... Eventually she comes to where her drone lies mutilated, a mess of mechanical mayhem left behind by the Croc. She crouches beside it for a moment, pulling a few key elements from it that she tucks in to her belt wrapped around her trim waistline. When she rises up again, her cape once more falls around her body, as she eyes the marks upon the walls, and proceeds to track the beastly man turned mostly beast. She pulls a sharp batarang from her belt now, clutching it at her side in her right gloved hand...
Killer Croc	There are certain benefits to being a cold blooded reptile. Not in the figurative 'Your enemies can't manipulate your emotions' way, but in a very literal 'As long as it's not too cold or too hot, you can blend into the surroundings when it comes to thermal temperature ranges' way. And Croc's got other advantages. The nest of tunnels and pipes and abandoned subway tunnels beneath Gotham are his home. Downside, home sucks and isn't pleasant, and also it's hard to socialize. Upside, it's a maze and if you don't spend all your time down there it can change dramatically from visit to visit. Sounds echo through the tunnels weirdly, one moment there's the sound of a snarl that seems to be around the next corner, only for that next corner to show an empty expanse of rusted, water-dripping pipes and grates. The tunnel runs for a few hundred feet before opening into what must have been a water treatment chamber at some point, there are large pressurized tanks, or at least presumably pressurized, for various treatment chemicals, with large water main pipes snaking off through concrete walls with the hulking form of Croc snarling and turning side to side in the middle of the room. Like he was expecting to find another exit. Okay, maybe even /he/ can't always keep track of the maze.
Barbara Gordon	Normally Batgirl would 'cheat' and bring up a schematic of the area on her wrist computer. But she didn't want the bright glow of the screen to give her away when she was trying to be relatively embraced in shadow here. Some part of her told her that Croc was working with senses that would overcome any effort on her part to stay hidden, but she was trained to do this, she was trained to try. Plus, Croc was still part man, he wasn't entirely lost to the ways of a scaly reptile... The sounds did echo, and it was challenging to her tracking skills, but she continued to creep onward, with the ambient sounds of the sewers around them being an ever present reminder of what they were both lost within. Eventually, Croc was seen amongst those tanks, and he'd feel it rising around him, the pressure of another person being present. Batgirl strikes, coming from the shadows she lands on his back, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and her legs around his waist! She hooks one hand up to his throat, and squeezes with the aid of her strength-enhanced suit! The caped vigilante moves her hand to his opposite shoulder then, wetly slapping her bodysuit covered arm against his neck, as she tries to choke him out! Her eyes peer over his right shoulder, her pointed cowl covered face right up near his own. "You committed a crime!" She growls at him in her modulated voice. "You're going back to Arkham, Croc!" She adds, her grip on his whole form tightening as she is latched on to him from behind!
Killer Croc	Those animal instincts are keen, his shoulders visibly tense, if he had hackles they'd surely raise, he goes from confused relaxation and aimless turning to tensed, powerful monster in a moment. Of course, that moment is the rustle of a cape, the feel of the air changing as a body flies through it. He's spinning in earnest as the mysterious figure lands on his back, arms hooking around that broad trunk of a neck. And while his neck allows a surprising amount of range of motion to his head, it's not /actually/ enough for him to twist his head around like an owl or anything. Which means the thrashing jaws and flying spittle are really more unsettling and disturbing than /dangerous/. Those arms around his neck are tight, that suit's enhanced strength is enough to draw out a choked growl from the towering croc before he's thrashing and twisting side to side, arms trying to reach back and grab at the vigilante on his back. That sharp-toothed maw opens wide, letting out a mindless, enraged roar... apparently it's about the most concise argument he's got to get across 'I don't want to go to Arkham'. And as he's struggling to get her off his back, he spins and twists and hurls himself bodily into the various metal tanks around the room, trying to squash Barbara against something like she's a particularly aggravating mosquito instead of a Bat!
Barbara Gordon	The best move Batgirl has had in situations similar to this has been to choke out the much larger enemy. She's had mixed results with it... The Human ones are generally no problem, especially with her suit's capabilities. It's these weird outliers in Gotham that do give her a lot more trouble, however... and Croc MIGHT be the worst of them yet. Although, she didn't even consider trying this to Grundy... she knew that wouldn't end well for her. As the Killer Croc starts to slam himself around against the metal tanks, and anything else that he can as well, Barbara starts to question if this one was a good idea either! Her cape flutters in the wind around them both, her body is jolted by the impacts backward against things, but her back was armored well, her body contained inside a suit meant to protect her from blunt strikes more than anything else.. but he sure was powerful. She sticks to him with a surprising amount of resilience though, and the Croc might even be surprised by it! But eventually, Batgirl can see that it isn't enough, and he'll see her right hand come up to his chest, under her left that is clutching his throat. She slaps a shocking device against his scaly barreled chest, and flips open a cover on a switch that she slaps her gloved thumb down upon to try and send a powerful burst of electricity in to the beastly male's form!
Killer Croc	Twisting, turning, lashing out, even that tail of his manages some environmental damage lashing into the wall and leaving gouges and shattered brick. But that reptile brain is clever in very base, unthinking ways. It's that fluttering cape that keeps snapping into his vision that inspires him, one large hand reaching out, lashing for that cape and grabbing hold of it, both hands gripping and /heaving/ It's not artful, or particularly skilled, a little like Croc is trying to simply launch Batgirl off his back and over his head to hurl her in front of him like a sack of potatoes. It's actually really considerate of Croc, trying to throw Batgirl free of that electrical device right before it triggers and he's snarling out, slavering in rage, head twisting side to side, pectorals and abdominals spasming and twitching as that electricity jolts through his form, one hand moving towards that device, though it keeps jerking and jolting away, taking far far too long for him to grab it and rip it off with a pained cry. Still, it definitely stopped his follow up from flinging Batgirl off his back. And he's moving slower, like his muscles aren't quite doing what he wants them to.
Barbara Gordon	Croc's grasping hand is able to get ahold of the black and gold cape! He is able to use it to reach further back until he gets a grip on some of the armored plating attached to Batgirl's suit. It is roughly exactly after she pushed that button that he throws the Batgirl across the underground chamber! She's launched right in to one of those metal tanks too, her body thudding against it with a ringing thrum that echoes out through the room, and its floor and walls alike. Batgirl crumbles to the ground with her cape wrapped around her again, her red locks of hair tangled and messy behind her shoulders. She is slowed and stunned, her form moving to get back up on her feet again, as she tries to recover. Quickly, her eyes look over to the Killer Croc, as she works herself up on to her forearms, and one knee. Her other leg extends outward at her side, as she pushes herself up on to that one knee, casting her cape back out of her way now, she brandishes one of her Batarangs, raises her hand up and prepares to throw it at the Croc now! The dagger-like ends of the Batarang gleam in what little light exists within this darkly consuming room, as Batgirl throws it with a savage might herself!
Killer Croc	Croc's springing, at least he's springing as much as approaching 800 pounds of muscle and bone can spring. Ferrets spring. Cats spring. Croc's more... bulldozing. Driving towards Batgirl's figure in mindless, animal rage, those wicked claws sending showers of sparks that help light the room in brief flashes as he claws his way towards her. Things are looking downright dire when that batarang is thrown with expert skill and timing, aim true. It would probably do enough damage on a /person/ to get some kind of lecture from Batman about excessive force. Or maybe just a grim silent stare. Against Croc the blade strikes above his left eye, slicing through scale and flesh, a shower of dark red blood erupting out and dripping into his eyes, throwing off the aim of his next wild swing of claws. It was surely meant to be a deadly slash to Batgirl's throat or other vulnerable joint in her armored suit, but instead it's a blind slash in her general direction before he's thrashing about in a literal blind rage. It's not really a /better/ situation, but at least it's making sure he can't reliably grab her again. And one of those large, claw-tipped hands has blindly reached out to find an intact canister of chlorine for the water treatment, his bulky form leaning against it for support and balance.
Barbara Gordon	In truth the Batarang that Batgirl threw at the Croc, wasn't meant to be thrown at people, it was meant to be lodged in to walls to do a variety of tech-based things... but she wanted to hurt the beastly man, she wanted to cut him like he was trying to cut her. She was already battered, brusied, and weary from this fight, and she suspected if she was going to win this, she'd have to do it by a 'thousand cuts.' Then he went in to berserker mode! His claws sending showers of sparks that were progressively getting closer and closer to the Bat! "Shit." She even mutters, her modulator still functioning, as she reached for her golden belt wrapped around her waist! When he reached her, he'd feel it. His claws made contact with her in a satisfying way! But she was gone!? Batgirl had used her grapple gun to fire it in to the dark, and through it, she was yanked away from him, and between several of the tanks! Back in to the shadows, the Batgirl retreated... He might even need a few minutes himself, but should he linger, and search, he might sense that she's nearby, and he might even catch the scent of Human blood in the air, as there are droplets of it across the floor in her wake.
Killer Croc	Croc feels that momentary thrill, he knows he struck home, he knows he has the advantage now, even if he's breathing like a bellows now, slow and heavy and loud enough that it could probably start some sort of Gotham myth about a dragon in the depths of the city. That scent of blood sends him nearly reeling, heavy breaths shifting to a low, rumbling growl that doesn't make him sound any /less/ like an ancient reptilian monster awakened to hunt. He snarls, that animal instinct fading, or at least mellowing enough for him to recall such lofty concepts as 'language', low bass voice rumbling out as one large hand lifts, gingerly feeling at that head wound, "I know you're out there Bat... you know we're going to do this again! And next time you're not getting away. Next time you're mine!" But he seems to think that lingering threat is enough to count as a win... after all, there's always that part of him that doesn't have great self esteem. That little voice in his head saying to take this 'win' because there's always a chance whichever Bat, Bird, or other costumed crimefighter he's wound up tangling with, they're going to have backup. Because /heroes/ get to have friends. Croc will settle for backtracking to a more active sewer tunnel with deep enough water for him to dive into and swim off to lick his wounds... figuratively probably.
Barbara Gordon	For Batgirl, she wasn't even but a handful of meters away from him when he was shouting. She was just in the corner, behind a stone pylon. With her back pressed to the wall, she'd been trying to hastily tend to her wound. It was across her left hip, and down toward the front of her thigh. Her suit had been torn open right where her upper leg bends and there was no reinforced plating beneath the black material. Now it was gashed open, and she was openly bleeding, while listening to him. She did have a few first aid items on her belt for emergencies, but she's really only ever used them on citizens who'd been out there on the streets, harmed and not close enough for EMTs to get to them on time. But now she was quickly using it on herself. Dabbing the blood away, and spraying some kind of a sealant over the wound. But she stopped when he got closer, and she just breathed, her chest rising and falling inside of her armored suit, the golden bat logo bouncing up and down as she breathed evenly, or tried to at least. She heard him stomp off though, and it made her relax just enough. She finished her hastily applied work to her thigh, then started off toward her own chosen tunnel, her cape flowing around her body as she walked now with a bit of a limp, and a wince occasionally crossing her visible pink-hued lips. "Next time. Bigger... gun." Babs quietly mutters as she passes under a small light hanging from one of the curved sewer ceilings...