Owner	Pose
Bruce Wayne	It had been a while since the Bat had staked a place out. He'd come a long way from those early days of fixating on some underworld figure, pimp, or gunrunner to the exclusion of all else. Now the entire city was a webwork of ongoing cases, investigations, and situations that needed monitoring. One pair of eyes had become the panopticon in the form of cameras, satellite imagery, and the watchful eyes of his students ? his soldiers ? over the dark, infested corners of his city. But there were times when he could afford the pause. Those nights where many of Gotham's scum were feeling the uncomfortable twist of superstition in their collective gut. Did that shadow move? Was that a footstep? Did they feel something tall, dark, and cold looming behind them only to find shadows and air when they turn around? These are the good nights in the Bat's reckoning. The ones where the atmosphere of terror he cultivates pays off. It doesn't work on everyone, of course. There's a meeting going down tonight. He's sure of it. He crouches atop a crumbling, moss-eaten gargoyle that is the very icon of Cyrus Pinkney's 'Gotham style'. His heavy, dark cape flows around him leaving him little more than a formless and ominous shadow with two pointed ears and glinting, white eyes staring down at the apartment block below. He waits and watches.
Selina Kyle	You could make a case that it works on everyone. Just not neccessarily in the way intended! Selina Kyle, for example, goes through fits and starts of keeping her head down when she's been particularly... indulgent in her work; when she's not just out of town on another job, but... Most people, if Batman knew them by name, would leave the city and never come back. Selina?     "Who are we hiding from?" Comes a stage whisper just beside Batman's ear.     Selina makes it her business to go right up and bother him, when opportunity strikes. It's probably fine! She gave him some info on Luigi Falcone a little while ago, so that's got to buy, like... a month or so of flirtation, right?     Catwoman has her hands and the tips of her boots on the very corner of the lip of the building behind Batman, leaning forward VERY precariously, and dangerously, just to bring her lips close to Batman's ear to ask that silly question, clad in the black, begoggled costume she'd adopted in recent years. Though no one has yet to talk her out of the high heels.
Bruce Wayne	He doesn't flinch nor start when he hears her voice. If he knew she was coming, he made no sign of that, either. One might be forgiven for thinking him a statue, some grim and sinister addition to the stone sentinels that festoon the building. There's a long pause when she speaks, before he slowly turns his head to observe her out of the corner of his right eye. "The Neelanjali Ruby," he says, his voice gravelly and flat, "Missing from the Bharati Gallery in Starling. Expert job." There's another pregnant pause. "Know anything about it?"
Selina Kyle	Catwoman feigns a soft little gasp of recognition, and pouts "I'd *heeaaard*; that's *awful.*" She laments coyly, pointedly not confirming one way or the other. Selina has changed subtly over the years - one of the few people to have more or less been there since around Batman's beginning - but she still treats most things like a game if she can help it.     Or maybe that's just with Batman.     In Catwoman's position, it makes a great deal of sense for her to grab onto something more stable, but Batman would know by now that it's not practicality that draws Selina to put her right hand on Batman's right shoulder - clasping her fingers one at a time from pinky to forefinger like one might toy with a line of piano notes - her left hand on Batman's left thigh, and puts her chin on Batman's left shoulder.     "Seems like a job for the police, though. Or at least one of your Birds~" Catwoman tilts her head to the left as her eyes peer to the right at Batman, a coy smile on her face, "I'm in*sulted* I didn't get a call, if you really have time on your hands~"
Bruce Wayne	"Starling Police are handling it," the Bat answers pointedly, not outwardly reacting to the touch but the sudden, subtle tension that runs through him would not be missed by one so alert as Catwoman, "Just found the method interesting. Not to mention the prize." He remains still, slowly turning his head to look down at the building below. A car rolls up with three men inside, parking deliberately outside the pool of light produced by a nearby streetlamp. The curtains on one of the upper floors flicker, the tell-tale sign of someone peering through them. The Dark Knight tenses again. "What do you want?" he asks gruffly.
Selina Kyle	Catwoman notces that flicker of the curtain, briefly arching an eyebrow behind her mask, before Batman brings her attention back to him.     Catwoman grins merrily and purrs, "Hmmmmm... 'What I Want', by The Catwoman..." Catwoman turns her eyes upward while tilting her head back in a playfully thoughtful expression. "A Skeleton-Key for the entire world... Vibranium claaaawwws..." she says distractedly, as if checking a mental list, "... that *lovely* little emerald choker Mrs. Trent wore to the museum debut last week, that matches my eyes~..." Even if Batman couldn't see it, one could probably sense her fluttering her eyes demonstratingly, with her goggles not in the 'mirrored lense' mode.     Selina's left hand squeezes, as her right arm moves to wrap around Batman's front, leaning more of her light weight against his back. She tilts her head towards him, closes her eyes, and suggestively sighs, "... some company on a lonely night." She lets a moment pass like that, dreamily adding, "I'm sure I'll think of more..." before she opens her eyes, peers up at Batman from the base of his neck, and asks, "How about you?"
Bruce Wayne	"Hnh." Rather than give a proper response, the Bat simply grunts through his teeth at the thief-turned-morally grey vigilante who now practically drapes herself over him. Their position on this high parapet is such that he doesn't shrug her off nor try to move from her, even though he knows this Cat is especially well-known for always landing on her feet. Maybe there's a part of him that doesn't want to move for other reasons he'd much rather keep deep, buried and dead. "Leonard Szabo," he begins, eyes turning towards the curtain that had moved moments ago, "Underboss for Janos Szabo. Trafficking women on the side. Thinks his boss knows about it and wouldn't approve. Or worse, he'd want a cut."
Selina Kyle	"Hmmm." Catwoman echoes Batman's noise, and continues in a playful mimicry of Batman's gravelly expression, with a dramatic delivery of: "And a 'Grumble-to-English' dictionaryyyyyyy."     Catwoman just grins lazily and closes her eyes, seeming to just enjoy the simple things in life, for a moment. But, as Batman gives details on his purpose here - or perhaps answers her question? - Catwoman's eyes open very narrowly, watching the curatined window again distractedly.     Heart-to-hearts with Catwoman are hard to come by - the occasional tense explosion aside. Selina Kyle can be a bit more forthcoming, but with both of them it can be hard to tell what's true and what isn't, the way she tends to present it in the tone of a whimsical, charming disaster. But what Batman's heard, and whatever he's digged up/come across on his own paints a decent enough picture; that Selina comes from the exact polar opposite of the food chain that Bruce Wayne was born into. One can imagine she's... seen things.     Catwoman doesn't seem to react for a few long seconds, before she vocalizes a long, soft sigh, a gentle "Hmmmmmmmmm..." through closed lips as she tilts her head back into an upright position, and slowly draws her right hand across Batman's symbol, before putting her palm on the back of his shoulder, releasing him from her... overly familiar grasp. "... And you're going to save all those Cinderellas from their wicked stepfather."     Her voice isn't quite... dirisive, and isn't quite bitter, but there's something a tiny bit darker than she usually lets on. "... Hmm." She grunts softly, and then turns her head towards Batman. "Work date it is~" she says in a more familiar voice, before smooching Batman on the cheek and adding, in a teasingly long-suffering tone, "As usual~"
Bruce Wayne	Batman waits a moment for Catwoman to draw away from him, eyes still fixated on the car below. Once upon a time he might have run out a potential game plan. He might have laid out his plan of attack so she could follow along. Or he might have simply told her not to interfere. But after so many years there's a sort of unspoken understanding that he shares with few others. The kiss to his cheek will find the stubble that suggests it's been some time since he traded the batsuit for his daylight clothes. Once she's away from him he pitches forward, dropping towards the street without fear. What happens next is a symphony of the fear he cultivates. His cape billows out behind him, catching enough air to slow his descent. Heavily booted feet plunge into the roof of parked car, landing him in a crouch and buckling the sheet metal inwards with an agonized whine. The three men within begin to shout, the driver and front passenger spilling out onto the pavement while the rear passenger struggles to open the now-buckled door. The Bat steps from the car roof, landing fluidly alongside the driver. A fist is thrown in his direction in a panic, and he catches it, holding it aloft and to the side as his other arm drives its elbow into the man's face. There's a sickening crunch and a fount of red, the flat of his gauntlet driving into the man's face over and over until he crumples in an uncomfortable, disjointed pile.
Selina Kyle	As Batman falls to earth, Catwoman smirks a little and says, out of earshot, "Not that I don't love to watch you work."     Catwoman would be lying if she said she was never affected by Batman's atmosphere, his presence; hell she'd be lying if she said it didn't still catch her sometimes, though it clearly hasn't garnered the reaction Batman had intended. That said, watching the men that DO skitter and flail in Batman's presence never ceases to be a treat.     The backseat passanger scrambles out of the back seat on the opposite side of the car from Batman, and begins to fumble with his inner coat pockets, reaching for his gun. He pulls it roughly halfway out into the air before suddenly a whip loudly wraps around his neck, the tail end smacking the side of his face hard enough to leave a lasting welt.     He looks up just in time to see Catwoman perched on top of a lamp post, before she leaps off of it, pivoting to face him as she lands on the roof of the car; and then leaps backwards while yanking on the whip, flipping backwards over Batman's shoulder to land close to him. The force and momentum yanks the third man head first into the corner of the car's roof, knocking him out with a deeply undignified thud.     Catwoman retrieves her whip with a flick of her wrist, and looks up at Batman, clearly pleased with herself, and with the results of the brutally fast bout of chaos. Say what you want about Selina Kyle, the lady has finesse... and, honestly, there have been *Robins* that weren't as comfortable or synchronised with Batman to manuever around him like that.     An unspoked understanding, indeed.
Bruce Wayne	The last man is already scrambling. He doesn't try to shoot at the pair nor fight back, he simply takes flight. For the first few feet he's practically running on all fours before he stumbles upright. He's breaking into a sprint when the loud hiss of compressed air being released rings through the street, and something catches him viciously in his upper back. The Bat stands with one hand raised; his grappling gun clenched in an armored fist. The cable hangs slack, ending in a pincer hook that is half-embedded in the fleeing man's shoulder. A flick of the switch draws the thug backwards, bringing with it a shout of agony as he takes a few awkward steps backwards before collapsing in a heap himself. It's then that the Dark Knight is on him, fist rising and falling over and over. All frustration and fury refined into something cold and focused. He pauses for a moment before he looks at Catwoman, rising to his feet as they stand amidst the carnage they've created. The grappling gun retracted, he watches her a moment longer before firing it into the air and ascending upwards into the night.
Selina Kyle	Catwoman winces sharply when the grapnel strikes the fleeing hoodlum, but more in the spirit of watching someone fall off of a skateboard. She can't say she feels much sympathy for these kinds of people.     As Batman looks at her, Catwoman lifts her shoulders and fills the silence with a suggested "Go team?"     And then he's flying away.     Catwoman hooks a finger through the ring of her costume's zipper, fiddling with it thoughtfully out of habit as she purrs, "Story of my life~"