rock and roll ain't noise pollution

[cowled]

Characters: Batman and open.
Date: The night of the 11th/morning of the 12th.
Location: All over the place!
Situation: He is the terror that flaps in the – wait, wrong caped crusader. Essentially, Bruce is running around being vengeance and the night and all that fun stuff.
Warnings/Rating: Bruce isn't really prone to excessive amounts of talking when he's Batman, so threads might run a little bit short. Rating... expect some violence, maybe?
Notes: Feel free to toss actionspam or prose at me! I'm good however. Bruce is going to be all over the city doing all sorts of things, just ask if you want me to set something up for you/your character, otherwise feel free to jump right in. \o/





[Even here, it feels like fighting an endless war. The city's been quieter after the war and most of the active gang members ended up behind bars, but the problem with that is the power vortex it leaves behind. He's spent the last few weeks fighting that momentum, to ill effect. People are still being robbed in the streets, and the brutality of those robberies has escalated. More than once he's arrived too late on a scene to do anything but damage control.

Long nights. Longer days, too. But the fight goes on, and Bruce wouldn't want to be anywhere else. The front lines have always suited him. Even now, he doesn't think he ever could be a sideliner. Those few months after Bane were some of the hardest in his life in terms of sheer personal inability. Bruce was so accustomed to pushing himself longer and harder than anyone else that finding out that there was a limit even to his tenacity had been terrifying in a way that not much else ever was.

Keeliai is nothing compared to Gotham. Compared to Apokolips. The Source Wall. It's nothing compared to Darkseid's siege on Earth, to losing his mind. To being lost in time.

He has allies here. Family. And although there is an omnipresent threat of danger hanging over all their heads, it doesn't have the aura of urgency or desperation that so often permeates the crises he's faced on Earth.

He wouldn't go so far as to say that Keeliai has made him complacent, because 'Batman' and 'complacency' are as far removed in meaning as any two words in the English language can be, but he is... calmer here, almost. After a fashion.

It doesn't mean he's lost his edge. It just means he's found a little serenity instead.

Lbr, he's still punching thugs in the throat, though.]

Comments

[wholenewstory]

[It isn't like patrolling Gotham or Bludhaven - not even in the Metal Sector, her focus tonight. It's the closest to home, with its gleaming spires and jagged streets, but the difference remains stark in her mind.

Part of it, she knows, is her. She hasn't worn the Bat since arriving; instead, she wears a simple black outfit, tailored for tightness, and a thick scarf to obscure her lower features.

It's not particularly protective, but then she doesn't need much in the way of protection, really. Even her Batgirl costume was tailored in favour of agility over defence.

These thoughts don't cloud her focus; the scuffle, at least twenty feet below, catches her notice instantly. Her eyes narrow, taking in all the information she needs, and then she leaps.]

[hackingyoursensors]

[Dick is handling a few minor thugs. A well-placed kick here, a carefully-thrown Batarang there. He's not having too much trouble, but the thugs certainly aren't going down without a fight.

They weren't kidding when they said kedan were stronger than humans. At least Dick is used to facing people much bigger and stronger than he is.]

[usavatar]

[The shell is still glowing when Steve finally abandons the idea of sleep and leaves his apartment. He's been up with only snatches of sleep for days now, his last full night's rest spent curled around Peggy. He wants to ask her if she'll come stay with him again. Will ask, today, because if he doesn't do it soon she's bound to either notice him looking haggard and take him to task for silence, or ask whose turn it is to share a bed.

It's a familiar routine at this point. Nights without sleep, either staring at the dark or reliving a cycle of memories that always wait at the edges of solitude. He doesn't know if it's punishment, maybe, for those things he considers failures. Punishment for sins he hasn't identified.

During one particularly long stretch of sleeplessness after getting pulled out of the ice, he imagined it to be a duty of sorts - the remembering. As fewer and fewer were left behind to do it, more and more of the remembering fell to him. Ridiculous, but when all he had was silence and memory, the ridiculous seemed reasonable.

There's a park he goes to on mornings like this, to set up the equipment he had the kedan make for him. Parallel bars, a pommel horse. He warms up with stretches and starts with the bars.

It one of those things that he put more focus on after getting woken up - boxing, yes. Hand-to-hand training with some of SHIELD's agents since they wouldn't allow him to work with the soldiers at Fort Hamilton, then. And gymnastics. Flexibility and agility have always been priorities.

Steve starts slow, a few handstands on the bars, sweeping up, sweeping down again, finding his way into a rhythm. When he does, he starts to pick up speed. It's the same kind of grace he has with the shield. The grace of juggled hammers, of a sword in motion. Something heavy and dangerous made light by velocity.

His legs touch the bars as he swings downward again and he grits his teeth. Do it better.

Again. Again. Again, until there's no pause between the downward sweep of his legs and the twist to rise back into a handstand with both hands on one bar. He has a routine in mind now, and repeats it with minor errors until he's able to sail through the entire thing without a single one.

Dismount. The impact of landing after flight.

Again. Do it better.]

[flytoohigh]

[ Just a teenager on rollerskates out exploring the city. That was, until he was jumped by a group after his money. However, where most people would be upset with the sudden attention, Ikki only seemed to be excited.

He's never fought true non-humans before, but they aren't too difficult to dispatch. Ikki simply relies on his speed by his Air Trecks, the powered rollerskates he wear. He's like a blur as he throws elbows into faces, and knocks Kedans aside with powerful kicks. Eventually he just claps his hands together and generates a massive upward gust of wind in the alleyway, throwing the attackers into the air, only to falls painfully back to the ground.

Ikki's just wiping off his black leather jacket, laughing out loud. ]

You should know not to mess with the Storm King, now give me all your money or I'll be forced to get serious! [ So yeah, now he's gonna steal from them. ]

[knowsmadness]

[Since the riots and other criminal issues have mostly been put down, Kara's hands have been far too idle. She's a military woman at heart, and lives and thrives on constant action and movement. If she wasn't going through the militant routines on the Galactica before the Cylon War, she was training and beating the crap out of Helo in both cards and in the boxing ring.

After the war, Kara had been on constant alert and often went days without sleep, because there was too much to do. She was the Galactica's top pilot and shooter, better than Apollo himself, and that meant being on the Commander's beck and call list.

Here, she has too much free time, too much idleness and those words do not describe Kara in any way shape or form. Despite knowing that there is a lot at stake here, Kara is beginning to feel a little useless.

In a nutshell, she's out here doing the same shit Bruce is doing; patrolling and occasionally punching a thug in the neck.]

[tactile_telekinesis]

[Kon always spent a few night out, checking over things. He didn't have Young Justice any more, so to keep him sane and safe from getting bored, he checked over the turtle now and then. He was out right now, cruising along, high enough that he wouldn't really be spotted, but low enough he could see what was going on.

He went in lower when he saw a shape of a familiar looking bat. He flew so he was in front of Batman and grinned.]

What drags Batman out?

on the 12th

[andaway]

[He really wasn't in the best mood to talk to people right now.

Whenever he got sad, or angry or simply homesick in their world he could just fly to the fortress of solitude and let his mind take over, let his worries disappear in the arctic. As long as he didn't make it a habit Lois understood.

In this place there simply wasn't a place to hide in, he couldn't just call in sick on his newspaper and get away with it because he was Mr Lane. He had to put on a smile only let it fad when he was among friends.

He's had to do that ever since Kara disappeared, ever since he stopped being able to hear her heartbeat. So Bruce's message to come talk to him is both appreciated and not, because he could really do without though right now.

He's wearing Clark's clothes when he knocks on his door.]