#friendtonone

[felinesiren-blog]

I should have assumed the common gutter trash wouldn't be far. Still dressing in knock-off designer dresses and posing with the rich and ambivalent?

Oh, Hush. What a pleasant surprise. The thought of you is making my cats hiss.

[doctorplisley-blog]

Hushed Tones.

Fox Gardens is posh. Excessively so. Even the price of the martini (dry, light whispering of Vermouth, stirred - I said "stirred!") Ivy's sipping has her reconsidering the evening.  There's no way she'll be able to pay the bill, but her pride's not letting her run (yet) and it's certainly not going to let her ask Tommy to foot the bill. Adding insult to injury is the surprising amount of concentration it's taking to alter her skin tone this evening; she's managing a pale ivory, but she noted a faint, greenish undertone in her earlier trip to the bathroom that's left her on edge (stopthinkingaboutit) and excessively (stopthinkingaboutit) paranoid (stopthinkingaboutit). She hasn't had to do this in months and inside she's berating herself for getting so out of practice. If she's going to get her half of the bill paid, her other abilities had better not be so rusty.

It's nearing seven and her hands are betraying her efforts to conceal her impatience. Try as she might, she can't seem to stop their fluttering between the stem of the glass before her and the hem of her dress (short, black, open-backed, paired with a pair of neutral heels of no real challenging height; elegant, but practical should she need to flee). She considers, albeit briefly, sitting on them, but dismisses the idea as childish and clasps them firmly over the napkin resting in her lap. With the occasional glance back down to her watch, Ivy begins to consider the dimly lit dining room and its occupants, curious as to whether Tommy's already arrived. When she doesn't spot him, she resorts to an inventory of the restaurant's exits and their respective blind spots, just in case.  Another peek at her watch, another fruitless sweep of the room.

Dammit, Elliot. Where are you? 

[doctorplisley-blog]

 friendtonone said: Of course. I would assume no less of you. I’m going to say for arguments sake, it is happening.

I suppose it'd be wise to arrange a meeting and discuss things more thoroughly. If I'm not mistaken - and I'm not - I've just obtained a reservation for two at Fox Gardens at seven this evening. Ask for Isley. I'll be waiting. 

Oh, and dress well.

[gothamcreation-blog]

Victory or Failure.

Batman was revitalized, renewed now that he was back his own time- home again. Rested. He had been monitoring the boys- watched them come together- Dick, Tim, and the self-proclaimed Batman he had sent in his place. They lingered, bouncing around sporadically in a way that suggested action, then, the movement seemed to settle but Batman’s concentration was on the whole. He knew in this moment- victory or failure. Victory or failure.

He saw Tommy.

Failure.

The man was fleeing. Batman saw Hush’s- brown trench coat and bandages.  No longer was he familiar as the images of Bruce’s childhood and early years, of the soft face and orange hair, and suits barely different from his own, the gloss of silver cuff-links and the near glow of the jade pendant his friend so dearly loved. Dearly loved, as Bruce now knew, far more than Tommy’s own parents. His mind was full of keys, keys to locks, and the doors would open and what he knew would mix with logic and that would yield this game he played as Batman. As the detective.

He caught up to Hush easily and for a moment his glove reached for some wire to catch the man’s feet, trip him up but instead something else came from him. His voice instead dashed dark Gotham air and traveled towards his old friend. “Tommy!” Batman commanded. “Stop!”

[flyingdgrayson-blog-blog]

Best Laid Plans

Nightwing was pretty sure that stealth wouldn't matter when the villain was actually waiting for them. There was always a sense of nausea that came to him every time he came near this theater. This is where it all began. A trip to this very theater started the domino effect that rippled through the lives of his whole family.

It was like a sinister Mecca. A pilgrimage to be made by each member of the Bat Clan at a significant moment in their life. Except, this wasn't such a trip. This was a foul imposter using this holy place for his evil plots. It made him mad, just as mad as he was knowing that Hush had deceived him for six months. The act putting his wife, his son, his siblings all at risk. This time, Tommy Elliot was not going to escape. This time the man was going to end up locked in Arkham forever. Dick would personally see to that. They didn't need this sociopath with a made up grudge coming after their family anymore.

"Let's get this over with. This place always makes me want to throw up." Nightwing nodded to his brother, climbing off the bike. "Which way should we go? Roof access with the element of surprise? Or should we just walk in balls out?"

He took his helmet off and set it with the bike before making sure the stealth device had it good and hidden from any passer by in Park Row that might want to make a couple bucks by stealing, then selling a bat vehicle.