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[theblondebat]

Grey's Calamity

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theblondebat:

starter post

West Mercy currently seems impenetrable.  Aside from the cavalcade of ERT that’s surrounding the perimeter, the hospital itself is difficult to scale.  Currently the only logical access - if one were to go in unseen and silently - would be through the roof, which is eighteen stories high.

Inside the hospital, Black Mask walks through the nursery, studying each infant, crib to crib.  His goons have assembled the ward’s staff at the nurses station - on the floor, face down.  Only Dr Chen-McDougal remains upright, propped up against the wall as she clutches a compress to her shoulder, trying to apply pressure to the gunshot wound.  

The rest of the hospital floors are teeming with SWAT, while staff, visitors and patients have - hopefully - been either identified and/or staying behind closed doors.  A good safety protocol, even if Black Mask and his crew seem to have no interest in any of the other floors except the one with the nursery.

"Very good, very good…" he murmurs to himself, teeth clacking in his skull mask as he regards the babies.  "These specimens will do nicely.  I’ll create a new generation of Arkhamites with them…"  He reaches out a lambskin gloved finger, stroking it along the cranium of a wiggling, loudly squalling child.

Black Maske spins, facing a goon.  He looks at his Armani watch and then growls impatiently, “Where’s Croc? Damned sewer pest! Why isn’t he back yet?  He’s the only thing holding this operation up.  I’d like to be out of here before You-Know-Who arrives.”

"Voldemort?" the goon hazards a guess.

Black Mask stares at him for a moment.  ”No you idiot…Batman.  Batman, THE!!! BATMAN!!!”

"I heard Batman’s no longer fighting crime," another goon contributes.  "I heard he’s gone over to our side’a things.  I heard the Green Arrow’s now acting like the big boss’a this town, tryina hunt the Batman down.  Taken on a Robin an’ everythin’.  Mebbe we should be looking for someone green? Or red?"

Black Mask cocks his gun, and shoots the goon in the forehead.  The large man drops to the ground like a sack of two-month old potatoes.

"You do that," he sneers.

Batgirl arrives three blocks over from the scene just shy of the closest police barricade currently swarming with news vans and curious bystanders. Morons. If Black Mask were smart, he would have his eye on at least one news channel to make sure nobody got a jump on him. Having the media eye trained and ready to track her progress on top of the SWAT team standing by on a hair-trigger to storm the building at the first go ahead, stealth is her only option. So the front and back doors are out. Unfortunately, there aren't any convenient windows she could slip into either, since most hospital windows require some kind of key to open. Too many stories above Batgirl's head lies the only reasonable access point: the roof. On a normal day, this would be routine, flinging herself across rooftops with a reckless abandon. But one does not simply enter a media hot spot in Bat ears without getting noticed, not without some tricks.

"Quick like a Cass, quick like a Cass," she says to herself like a pep talk and propels herself forward, running hard and fast to clear the wide distance between the nondescript brick office buildings until, windblown and exhilarated, she comes upon West Mercy Hospital only two stories above. Now comes the unpleasant part. 

Tapping a couple of keys on her inner gauntlet, Batgirl calls up her bike to wake up. Ricochet winks its lights and pulls up just down the block behind the media mob. On her command, the mostly invisible bike fires two shots at a fire hydrant across the street, causing a massive geyser of water to shoot up suddenly and loudly, thoroughly soaking the crowd and setting off car alarms. As soon as the small boom had sounded, Batgirl had whipped out her grappling gun and fired at a ventilation shaft worryingly small but would have to do, and let the gadget do its job and hoist her harshly upwards and onwards. This would hurt a lot.

For forty seconds, nobody notices the black and eggplant figure whizzing up through the open air two stories, collapsing with a glove-muffled cry of anguish at the tearing sensation in her shoulder. But the sounds below are quieting quickly again like they're resetting, and she feels a distinct satisfaction at her half-hazard plan's success. 

Batgirl easily picks the door's lock and lets herself into the emergency stairwell. Crap, which floor was the maternity ward on? How could she possibly have forgotten that now?! She's embarrassed to have to turn to the nearest nurse's station on the 17th floor for guidance, finding the maternity ward Black Mask was currently occupying on the 8th floor. She decides to stick with the stairwell for now since the elevator would be an actual light up LOOK AT ME sign. Around the 10th floor, Batgirl hears a commotion behind the door leading out onto the floor and she wonders if she'd read the map wrong. But no, this was the psychiatric ward, as the sign read when she slips in silently in a crouch, bo staff collapsed but in hand. 

She hits the ground, ducking inside the nearest open room when she hears the stomp of boots against tile. Two of Black Mask's men walk by her room without a second glance as they cross the empty hallway to the next unoccupied patient's room, a backpack slung lazily over one of their shoulders. She watches the two gun-toting goons carelessly loot the room for tranquilizers, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and other goodies the psychiatric ward is sure to be rife with. Are they seriously dumb enough to do their own business now of all times? Yes, yes they are. One of them belly laughs at something the other says and they move on to the next room to scrounge through, Batgirl's room. 

[npcblank]

To her credit, the officer handles Zach with a modicum of respectful professionalism - she doesn’t treat him like a criminal, but once they leave the building (and the watchful, glaring eyes of the other apartment dwellers) she holds Zach’s arm firmly and uses her other hand as a makeshift barrier between Zach and the throngs of press and lollygaggers.  

And there are plenty of both.  It probably wouldn’t have been as big a news story if it wasn’t for: a) Zee’s (read: Sindella’s) antics in Europe; and b) the recent hooplah about Nightstar’s connection to the WAVES Magazine massacre; and c) the rumors of an attack on the Titan Tower. 

The last issue being less of a thing because most SFers knew that attacks on Titan Tower were run-of-the-mill occurrences for over a decade now.  

However, news about Zatanna and Nightstar fueled the excited press and public towards regarding Zachary with accusing eyes.  Many of them seemed to already pass judgement.

"You and your sister are going down!!"  someone screamed, as the police officer gently cradled Zach’s head and pushed him into her squad car.  "The Zataras are a menace to society!! Rights not tights!!"

The brief interlude drive to the precinct was short-lived - press and public alike also waited there to catch a glimpse of the young magician.  Many assumed he was already being arrested for the accident on the I-280.

Inside, the detectives were less than pleased about having to question Zach, and even less-so when Zach claimed complete ignorance to the entire incident.

"Do you have an alibi," one of the detective grunted, although it was clear from his expression that whatever alibi Zach gave, the cops would just write it off as rich-boy privilege combined with suspicion of more magic tricks.  

Once thing was certain: If he were anyone else but a celebrity, Zach would be under arrest right now.

[zacharythemagician]

Zach hadn't ever actually been arrested before. He had spoken to the police on a number of occasions, from getting in trouble for noise complaints and things of that nature, to routine things for Titans reasons. Then the only time he'd ever actually been in a police station was after his then girlfriend had been killed in a car crash -- So, it wasn't something he thought about often. 

Either way this wasn't exactly the same. And to be honest he was freaking out a little, not that he let that show. No, he sat there with his usual bored, haughtiness, which was actually even shocking him how well he was pulling it off. Enough so that he was even getting on his own nerves... This performance career really came in handy sometimes.

At least they hadn't put him in handcuffs, because then he would have had to get out of them and they probably wouldn't have liked that too much... 

"I doubt you'd believe me if I did." He didn't think saying he was with Mia until about twelve, then went home to work on his show for the next day with Bunny would matter. He doubted they'd believe either his girlfriend who also was under the media spotlight, or his assistant. Though the security cameras in his building would have seen him entering, and not exiting until the next day...  "How about someone explains to me what I am even supposed to have done anyway. Legitimately. I want to know what I'm being blamed for, not second hand information I've gotten from watching the news." 

[looktothenightstar]

Is bimbo still a word?

Bimbo cannot still be a word.

Oh well, I guess GGG's "right thinkers" better stay away from me while I'm club-hopping tonight.

Because, you know, all us evil aliens can suck a man's free will right out his face.  

[theblondebat]

npcblank: . . . it’s the black leather that big breasted blonde bimbo Batgirl wears-

Ex-fucking-scuse me? I am not a bimbo! I'm proud of how I look and I don't flaunt it. Get over it.