well they call him the Prince of Gotham, anyway... (open)

[cowled]

Characters: Batman, Lina Inverse, and open to anyone else!
Location: 'Batman' will be on the Mainland, but Bruce Wayne/Devin Craig will be available on certain days on the Turtle. Because secret identities. They're a thing.
Situation: He's being the goddamned Batman that's its own situation I promise.
Warnings/Rating: Probable violence/fighting/injuries.
Notes: This log is good for 1-20th, give or take. He'll be available as Bruce Wayne earlier in the month (let's say 1-5th) and from the 12-13, and the rest of the days he'll be off Batmanning it up. Bruce will have his Batsuit from the 15-onward, but until then he'll be dressed in Ye Olde Batzorro get-up. Here.






[It's decades too late for any alien locale to cause particular unease as far as Batman's concerned. The desert landscape is harsh, yes, but it's no Apokolips. Still, there's something about it that he doesn't like.

Though truthfully, the same could be said of anywhere that isn't Gotham. It's the one place in the universe he knows with the complete and total intimacy of long familiarity. It's his home, both a prison in hard times and a refuge in the same. And it was a sign of how well Tim knew him that the simple act of bringing him back from cardiac arrest was to say tell him Gotham needs him.

These last three and a half months aren't the longest he's been away from Gotham, but they are in many ways the hardest. If he had something-- a direction, a clear goal, it'd be easier to endure. But between the secrecy of the Emperor and the clandestine nature of this place, he's come up with nothing time and again.

The architecture of Tu Vishan is seven hundred years old. The written language is as complex as any he's ever seen, though he's been working on deciphering it it's a slow, secondary project to keeping people safe.

But his family is here - as whole as it's ever been at any given time in Gotham. He's... trying with Jason, though every conversation they have feels like going ten rounds with Killer Croc, leaves him bruised and beaten in invisible ways. But Cassandra, Dick, Stephanie-- even Damian. Having them here, as much as it irritates him that they're as trapped as he is, he's... glad of their presence, as he is of Kal's and Lois' as well.

And Kon, if he has to admit it. (Though he'd rather not)

He has allies here, and he's come so far in this life as to be able to admit it without much more than a cursory grimace.

He's not happy.

But he's close, and that terrifies him.

So he shoves everything down and aside, throws himself into his work. It's what he always does when he has an excess of emotion he'd rather not dealing with. Bruce - not Bruce Wayne, but Bruce at his most human and vulnerable - ceases to exist, eclipsed by the Batman. The Landfall is a perfect opportunity, one he plans to spend largely alone.

Though, as has been said, 'no plan of operations extends with certainty beyond the first encounter with the enemy's main strength'.]

Comments

as Bruce Wayne | November 1-5, 12/13

[cowled]

[What do playboy billionaire philanthropist geniuses do in their spare time?

As it turns out: anything they damn well want to. 'Bruce Wayne' can be caught lounging poolside in the Water Sector, bartering congenially in the Fire Sector, helping to repair some of the lingering damage from the fire in the Earth Sector (which involves much exaggerated failure with a hammer) and just generally anywhere you damn well please. He's making an effort to seem like he plans on being turtleside all month, because, well. Reasons. And things. So won't you come and make his alibi all the easier?]

mausoleum; November 6/7

[cowled]

[He's inside the great black monolith, crouched down by one of the corpses. Taking forensic samples? Probably.

Any attempts to sneak up on him will probably be met with dry irritation.]

in one of the Abandoned Cities, November 15-20th

[cowled]

[When it comes to the cities found on the mainland, Bruce is in full-on information obtaining mode. He can be found all over the city - perched in high places and taking stock of his surroundings - or maybe examining the buildings and architecture at the lower levels, as well as any signs of damage or decay. Forensics again, but obviously not on any corpses or bodies this time as there's an alarming lack of them throughout the city itself.

If there's any signs of fighting or noise of a struggle, he'd head to investigate, and anyone approaching him would be treated with the usual Batman brusqueness, unless he's already familiar with them.]

free for all! | remaining dates

[cowled]

[Lmk if you want to run into him somewhere else on the Mainland, if you'd like to set up a scenario of some sort, or run with an idea you might have. I'm up for pretty much anything so feel free to PM me, too!]

For Lina

[cowled]

[Bruce has been stalking the llothi for several days now, pulling out all the stops to learn their habits and abilities as much as possible. They're smart and their senses keen, but Bruce has been in the game long enough to have tricks aplenty up his sleeve to thwart both.

What worries him is the third creature he sees, occasionally attaching itself to the mated pair. It's small, scaled. Vaguely humanoid, and it can mimic the voices of other people to an uncanny degree. That is going to cause trouble down the line.

He's been tailing this pair for about six hours when suddenly they perk up in tandem. Bruce freezes, but the wind hasn't shifted and he's hardly made enough noise to draw their attention -- and he watches as they swing their massive heads around towards Tu Vishan. From there, a sort of linguistic exchange passes between the two creatures and they lope in the direction they'd shown interest in, at a pace far greater than Bruce can sustain.

But their reaction can only mean one thing. They scented someone on the wind. And given what he's seen these creatures do casually, he doubts there are many who would be able to hold their own against them in a fight. He doubts even his own ability to do so.

Still, that's no excuse to stay where it's safe and it never has been. He sprints after them, armed and damn well ready for a fight.]

Hi, Dad.

[demon_brat]

[Damian didn't plan on trying to sneak in on him? He just moves cautiously and quietly by default, especially where he doesn't know what to expect.

Though he's getting the drift of 'death' pretty heavily. It's both calming and putting him on an edge. As would any place with this many dead, after the Blackest Night, of course.

And what he didn't expect? Was finding his Father, here. Not that he'll go on sneaking, after he recognizes the figure outlined in the spare light.]

[backwordscompatible]

[She wanted to see.]

[That was essentially her entire argument for coming into the abandoned city, half a day's worth of supplies on her back. She had no intentions of staying any longer than that, and the lighter weight made traveling much easier. And she had no intentions of deliberately getting into a fight. The few individuals she had come across thus far were just as curious as she, only there to observe and explore. Not that she wasn't ready to defend herself if it came to that.]

[Still, the young sorceress slowly made her way down the vacant street. A little more cautiously than she may have in the past. There was a nagging sensation in the back of her mind. Like she was being watched. She knew that feeling well enough--there was always somebody trying to watch her back home. Be it a teacher or her father. But this felt...different. Familiar, except not completely.]

[Somebody was definitely watching her; with no signs of anyone else at ground level, she tilted her head upward in search. The question was: friend or foe?]

[dragonswag]

[ Lina's no stranger to harsh climates. She's traveled quite extensively for someone her age, and in her fair share of inhospitable conditions -- most of the Outer World wasn't a cakewalk, that's for sure. And she's certainly no stranger to travelling alone. Still, it's been a few years, if she really thinks about it -- Gourry's loyal, if nothing else -- but it's not like Lina doesn't know how to handle herself. A girl's gotta get by, after all! And she'd be an idiot for missing out on an opportunity to explore the land, to learn more about this strange realm.

Still, this is not her favorite trip she's ever taken. The land is just an endless stretch out to the horizon, and it's not exactly easy on the eyes. And good lord is it hot. The mausoleum is an area of interest, for sure -- she knows that when she sees it -- but she decides to save that for another trip. She's not nearly equipped right now for something like that -- those kinds of things are usually booby trapped to hell, and Lina is not wandering into another situation like that unprepared.

So she presses on for a while, letting herself fly for a little while at first, but honestly, there's no need to use up magic energy like that, and she decides to hoof it for the rest of the way, conserving her energy. She can tell that something's off after a while, that something doesn't quite feel right, but it's hard to tell if that's her intuition speaking or just the heat making her miserable.

Lina knows the place is dangerous, that it has its own brand of nasty monsters if you venture far enough, but she's not worried. Hell, she's taken out pieces of Shabranigdo. Two of them, even. She's sure she can handle a few ugly monsters.

Except, of course, when two of them rear their ugly, ichor-dripping heads, and the only thing that comes from Lina's hands is the most pitiful excuse for a Fireball she's ever cast. It makes Sylphiel's Flare Carrots look menacing by comparison. And of course, that's when it clicks. That weird, nagging feeling Lina's been getting dimly in the back of her mind -- that's her magic being closed off. Oh, this is bad.

Lina runs through her options in a heartbeat. These things are more Dragon Slave worthy than anything, but if she can't even manage a decent-sized Fireball, then something taking that much magic is off the table. She tries to fire off a Ray Wing, to get herself some high ground and some distance from these things, but all she manages is a little flutter of wind that might not even have been her before it fizzles out. Okay, scratch that. This is so much worse than bad.

These suckers are ugly and huge, and they look fast to boot. Lina takes one cautious step backward as they approach, their eyeless sights clearly set on her, and she reaches carefully for the short sword at her hip. She's not sure she'll stand a chance if she makes a run for it. ]

Oh, you have got to be kidding me. O-okay, nice giant disgusting monster thing...c'mon, you don't wanna eat little old me, right? I'm just gonna --

[ And then that's when the guy with the domino mask jumps in, armed with his own weapons, and all Lina can do for a long moment is boggle, her hand still closed around the hilt of her short sword. ]

Wha --

[cowled]

Robin.

[It's said without turning around. His tonal iteration is different in the way he says that word when he means Damian. It's different for each Robin, a little, because though each one carries the same title they're still distinctive in their own ways.]

[cowled]

[He knew about Zatanna from Dick, and had accepted the fact that their universes were dissimilar enough that Zatanna was no longer one of his contemporaries. He'd noted her arrival in a faintly dismissive way. He didn't need to speak to her to watch out for her safety, which is the exact capacity in which he's acting now.

She's doing well so far, at least. Though she isn't like to be as powerful as the Zatanna he knows, she also wasn't a member of a superhero team at thirteen in his world. Still, he can't help but feel... protective of her, as he would be with anyone he's cared for back home.

He moves between the burnt-out husks of industrial towers and offices silently, tracking her progress. The buildings are twisted and warped, the result of excessive heat conduction. If he was anyone else he wouldn't be perched several storeys off the ground in one of the ruined towers. But Bruce has always had a good eye for structural stability, and he steps softly.

When she scans the skyline, Bruce melts back into the shadows of the building in answer. There's no way that the younger version of Dick has failed to mention his being here, and he doesn't want to give Zatanna any reasons to look for him specifically.]

[cowled]

Keep close to me.

[It's equally an order and a very strong suggestion, his voice is the low, rough cadences of Batman. He has three Batarangs already primed, slotted in between his fingers and aimed at the Llothi. Escaping this scenario would be preferable, as he can assume that the only reason someone so heavily reliant on sorcery is reaching for a sword is that said sorcery is somehow unavailable to her.

Their landscape won't be particularly helpful in an offensive maneuver. There's almost no variation here to be had - a slight hill to their right, but no vegetation to cover their tracks and no natural formations they can use for defense. He has a small charge of plastique, several darts of the knock-out drug he's been using on the kedan but that's far too small a dose for the llothi, a small hypersonics device adapted from the one he used to summon bats when he was new to the vigilante world, half a dozen regurgitant capsules and a taser, but his study of the llothi hasn't yet extended to combat takedowns.

He doesn't like relying on variables, but his battle strategy will hinge on what Lina's capable of with that sword of hers.]

let me know if this works!

[tuskenlancer]

[CT's still planning to leave the turtle behind - to head onto the mainland and just keep going until she finds something better.

But there's no need to rush, she's decided. The mainland is...forbidding, to say the least, and it's probably best to be prepared, to explore everything she can and find out what she's up against.

The abandoned cities are a good place to start. They're as creepy and desolate as everything else, but she's trying not to think about that, and to just stick to her plan and keep going.

She's in her armor as usual, with a heavy pack on her back, loaded with rations and supplies. CT knows how to travel light, but she also knows that she has to be prepared for anything - and the desert wasteland she's up against doesn't look like it's going to offer much in the way of help. CT wanders the city slowly, taking in everything, and stops when she sees a dark figure perched on the roof of a building.

She stops, taking a step back into the mouth of an alley and trying to melt into the shadows, watching the figure. She can't tell if he'd seen her - if it is a person, and not a statue - but watching to see what happens next seems like the best course of action.]

[backwordscompatible]

[Her eyes scanned the skies for nearly a full minute before she finally looked away. Maybe she was just imagining things?]

[Absently pulling at her backpack, she continued on her path. The further into the charred remains she traveled, the stranger she felt. Almost like vertigo. It was an indescribable sensation--not quite pain, but hardly pleasant. At one point, a hand rose to her head. Maybe it was just the atmosphere. The sight of all that destruction was enough to make anybody depressed.]

[As she turned the corner, however, the same feeling was upon her again. She froze, visibly frowning as she lifted her eyes once more.]

Okay, is somewhere there?

[She hated sounding paranoid, but walking through a creepy ghost city was weird enough without somebody following her. Then a though occurred to her, and she almost smiled:]

Robin, if that's you, you might as well come out already.

[Chances were slim it was her fellow teammate. No doubt, he would have already said 'hello' by then. But on the off-chance he was messing with her, it was best to call him out on it while she still had the verbal advantage.]

[cowled]

[There's an eerie quietude to an abandoned city. The only thing Bruce can compare it to - beyond the obvious - is the hush that fell over Gotham after the quake.

Oh, there was still noise. Broken water mains, distant sirens, the shift of settling rubble. People crying. But there was a sense of stillness and desolation draped out over the city like a shroud and this nameless place seems similar.

He's standing atop one of the less burnt-out husks of a building, surveilling the land to the extent he's capable of (without his specialized equipment, not nearly as much as he'd like it to be) when movement on the street catches his eye. He's too far up to make out specific details, but he's willing to bet that it's someone who saw him - his uniform is rather conspicuous here - and rabbited.

Interesting.

He doesn't move - doing so would give him away - but he does shift slightly to glance up the street.

There's a slight groan to the structure he's standing on when he does so, and that in and of itself is a warning. He didn't move nearly enough to merit that noise, and Bruce suddenly couldn't care less about the potential scrutiny from the street. He pivots in time to take a juvenile llothi to the chest. The weight of it staggers him backwards and for a moment there's a sense of total weightlessness -- and that before he falls.

He's 83 metres above the ground. The gravity is comparable to Earth. He has 4.12 seconds until impact, several seconds shy of terminal velocity.

And if he catches himself on a grapple line, the combined weight between he and the llothi (which is doing its damndest to dig its claws into his shoulder) could take his arm off. Bruce grits his teeth, doesn't waste the time it would take to try and disengage himself--

(Six places to anchor a grapple, he catalogues them as he falls. Three he's scouted for stability, three unknowns. One chance)

-- from the Llothi. Instead he just pulls the grappling line from his belt, looks once and fires. 1.8 seconds left.

The grapple catches, Bruce grits his teeth-- this is going to be one hell of a landing. 15.8 metres to the ground. He grips the line with his dominant hand, stabilizes it with his left, ignores the llothi (lucky it's a juvenile, it's not quite dangerous enough yet to straight-up bite through his gorget - not that it isn't trying) as best he can and waits for the elastic snap at the end of the line.

It happens, slows his descent. He can feel the line burn as it slips through his gloves, and when it's done all it can do, just before he jerks to a halt, he lets it go and falls the rest of the way. He'd calculated it so he was a bare five metres above the ground.

He's fallen from higher.

Every lesson he ever learned about taking a fall resurfaces in his mind, forces him to go loose. When he hits the ground it's shoulder first, the impact knocks the llothi free and hurts like hell. Bruce loses consciousness for less than a second and when he regains it he's already forcing himself to his feet.]

[tuskenlancer]

[It all happens so fast, she barely has time to wrap her mind around what's happening until it's over.

There's a movement on the building next to the figure, a worrying-sounding creak of metal, and then the figure is moving, pivoting on the roof. CT flinches as the llothi jumps on him, staring with wide eyes as they both fly off the roof and towards the ground.

She moves on instinct, running out of the alley and towards the street. She can't hope to stop it, doesn't know what she can do, but standing there and doing nothing isn't an option. Before she can reach him, though, a line flies up, catching on a turret of a building high above. The figure slows immediately, and though she doesn't know where the hell he'd gotten that line from, she knows without a doubt how this will end - a hard landing and a dislocated shoulder, if not worse. She increses her pace, only for the man to let go at the last second, crashing to the ground with a boneless flop and a sickening sounding thud.

The llothi breaks free, and CT raises her gun immediately, ready to fire - but it's clearly had enough, and it takes off with a startled-sounding yelp, leaving only the two of them. She's expecting him to be - well, hurt, if not worse, but by the time she looks down at him he's already staggering to his feet, and CT all but yelps herself, training the gun on him.]

What - what the fuck are you?

[cowled]

[Sore. The comment comes to mind, and if the armoured man were Clark or Diana he'd have said it outloud with a wry, irritated tone.

But this is a stranger, relatively speaking. They've had exactly one conversation and the person was paranoid, close-lipped and wouldn't so much as deign give a name that wasn't obviously fake. Bruce eyes that gun with a sort of patient weariness and doesn't move.

The man is startled, but Bruce is willing to doubt he's not hostile. As suspicious as a Bat, yes, but Bruce has never seen him be openly threatening to anyone on the network. Brusque, yes. But not hostile.

If the man shoots at him, he'll do something about it. But with the llothi gone and the threat for the moment passed, all he wants to do is nurse his wounds. The creature left four deep punctures in the meat of his left shoulder above, across and beneath the scapulae and he has an obvious dislocation to the same side he'll have to reduce when he's not in someone else's company. The punctures are the worst of the two. The llothi have something toxic on their claws that's caused an infection in every case he's seen, and despite his constitution he doubts he'll be the exception to the rule.

The rest of his injuries are inconsequential. His hands ache from how tightly he'd held the line, several ribs are bruised and the way the llothi had shoved itself against his gorget has affected his breathing, but nothing's approaching fatal.

Still, despite that, his posture is easy, confident and casual. He doesn't favour his shoulder, despite its displacement.]

Human. Do you mind?

[He nods to the gun. He'll throw a batarang if needs be.]

[hackingyoursensors]

[Dick was extremely happy to have made landfall. He was a nomad by nature so being stuck in one city, even one very diverse city, was driving him nuts. He was used to jet-setting all over, both as Robin and (to a lesser extent) as Dick Grayson. It was no wonder he was getting cabin fever. Or was it turtle fever?

In any case, he'd jumped at the chance to explore the mainland. But this is his first time finding a city so big. He was exploring mostly on the ground, checking inside of buildings and basements, taking note of the damage and trying to decide what might've caused it.

Not surprisingly, Batman's there.]

"This city looks like something out of a horror movie."

[Idle conversation. Deal with it.]

Early in November, Fire Sector Market

[crotcharrow]

[Tommy is in the Fire Sector to collect supplies for his trip to the mainland. With two speedsters traveling together, there's no telling how much food they'll actually need. Especially if they are running themselves empty by exploring the vast expanse of the mainland. Tommy really didn't want to get stuck in the middle of a barren desert with no food or water and no way of getting home.

So he's been trading people favours for supplies which hasn't really been all that successful. So he figured he should go to one of the many markets and did what he did best. Taking things without people realising. Part of him did feel bad but hey, he ate a lot more than the average person, and really, it's their fault for not giving him more food in the first place.

He's currently hovering by some pastry stalls, watching the shop keeper barter with someone who was quite obviously not a native. He watches them for a few moments, and then takes advantage of the distraction, and slips away with near a whole tray of pork buns and disappears down an alley all in the spanse of a second or two.]

[tuskenlancer]

[She can see the wounds in his shoulder even from here, but the way he moves, he might as well not even feel them. CT's eyes widen behind her helmet as she stares at him - he's tall, maybe not Spartan-tall, but then again, considering what she'd just witnessed, she's not ruling out supersoldier of some type. He's wearing a mask with a strange, pointy hood and a legitimate cape, and overall, she basically has no idea what she's looking at here.

She's not about to lower her gun, though, not if he's that unaffected by falling from a building and she still doesn't know what he's planning to do here. CT shakes her head, still aiming at him.]

You don't have to worry about this if you don't make any sudden moves.

She jerks her head in a vague gesture towards his shoulder, eyeing the blood leaking out with disquiet.]

You're hurt.

[Just in case he hadn't noticed.]

[cowled]

[His tone takes on a bit of an edge,]

I'm fine.

[And he really does not like guns.]

If you're going to keep that pointed at me, we should find cover. These streets aren't safe.

[tuskenlancer]

[He's clearly not, and CT frowns. It's possible he's taking something that keeps him from feeling the pain - that might help explain how he could just get up and walk away from that fall - but bleeding is bleeding, either way.]

It looks like the roofs aren't safe, either.

[Just the fact that he hadn't pushed the gun issue makes her feel a little bit better, though, and she lowers it, though she doesn't put it away quite yet.]

Do you have anywhere to suggest?

[maybe somewhere with medical supplies. 8(]

[cowled]

Inside.

[There's a burnt out husk of a building nearby, he'd scouted it earlier. Some sort of restaurant, if he had to hazard a guess by the paraphernalia in the back. Things that resembled ovens and stovetops. The plate glass windows remained more or less intact, and there's something approaching a functional door. Two exits. Sixteen tables - some damaged or overturned, and approximately 50 chairs in varying states of disarray or rot.

He takes a step forward-- grits his teeth at the surge of pain. A sprain? Hnn. Ignore it, work through it. Don't let it show. Easy to step past the man and head in the direction of the small, single-storey building he'd indicated. He puts his shoulder against the door, warped in its frame and pushes it open and heads inside without bothering to look if he's being followed. He can hear footsteps well enough, thank you.]

[cowled]

[Zatanna-- Zee would likely assume it was him over one of his birds, but that she's so close almost elicits a smile.

He's surprised she's so aware of her surroundings at this age. There are very few people who can realize they're being tailed when he's intentionally trying to stay hidden. He doesn't move a moment longer, considering his options. She doesn't have the supplies to venture much further, so her intention is likely to return to the Turtle sometime in the next twelve to sixteen hours. She's alone, which is somewhat surprising given Dick's... attachment to her (Even if Dick is from a different universe and not yet in his teens, Bruce recognizes the tone he'd used to describe Zatanna) which implies that she hasn't done her research on what's out here, or expects to be able to handle it.

Still. As much as he doesn't care to reveal himself, there's no point in making her uncomfortable, either. He could simply turn and leave, but-- in many ways his Zatanna is one of his oldest friends. And she'd no doubt disapprove of his giving the cold shoulder to another version of her.

With that potential chastisement in mind, Bruce fires off a grappling line, leaps from his perch and disengages it again a few metres from the ground, where he lands silently behind the girl.]

Zatanna.

[Go-go gadget bat-voice.]

[cowled]

[The elder of the two Robins gets a noncommital noise in response. Bruce is currently examining a scaffold that collapsed under intense heat. The way the metal is warped and twisted suggest that the onset of such a fluctuation in thermal temperatures happened in less than ten seconds.

He scrapes flakes of the metal into a small phial for analysis back in Keeliai.]

What have you found?

[tuskenlancer]

[Inside doesn't seem much more secure than outside, in CT's opinion - none of this is very safe, and who knows what could be hiding in there.

It's probably not any less safe, either, though, and she follows him in without protest, doing a quick survey of the building once they're in. There's no sign of danger, and she lowers her gun a little more, stepping a little closer to the man and studying his wounds critically.]

I have a first aid kit in my bag.

[She's even willing to share it, though she'll wait for his agreement before she goes to the trouble of pulling it out.]