232. A Hard Act to Follow part 17
November 30, 2004.
Titan's City.
3:57 pm
Bayside Plaza.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"Mmmmmm…..mmmm….," Tempest hummed with mouthfuls of seafood pasta. He forked through his plate and swallowed and nodded: "Definitely Upper Gulf Stream. Above-Trench schools. Only….with a few gazillion surface-dweller synthetic preservatives bucketed sloppily over it, but hey….I'm not about to complain. Beneath all of it is a lovely taste of home."
"Hehehe…," Lindsay leaned her chin on her hand and smiled at him from across the table on the shadowed edge of the Bayside Plaza. "My….you certainly have been hungry today."
"Don't mind me," the Atlantean shrugged and forked through the leftover scraps of the pasta. He was clad in a jacket and a pair of sunglasses that Lindsay provided over his wetsuited figure as a meager, last-minute disguise in the gray shadows. "Skimming the seaboard and making like a torpedo through the cold Atlantic to get here kinda sorta takes a lot of calories out of me."
"S-Sorry…."
"Nothing in Zeus' name to be sorry for! Besides…," he raised the shades momentarily and winked a white on black eye at her. "…whoever thought Princess Diana was a good cook was screwing his mental self. Wonder Woman's too busy to fill in that stereotype. It was lasagna t.v. dinners everyday at her place."
"Hey! Lasagna is good!"
"Sheesh! So much cheese! What is it with surface dwellers and milk byproducts?"
Lindsay shrugged. "A mammalian thing, I guess."
"Heh….I hear that…..," Tempest nodded. He ate. He chewed. He swallowed. He paused. "………." He gazed thoughtfully at Lindsay.
"………," Lindsay was staring to the side. Breathing gently to herself. Mellow.
"……….," Tempest placed his utensil down and pushed his tray aside. He leaned forward: "Of course….tasty fish is the last thing I've been missing."
She smirked. "I don't expect you to try and make me feel better…."
"Why do you need to be 'made' to feel better to begin with?" Tempest leaned his head to the side. "Lindsay, do forgive me. I feel like an utter blowhole. Which is besides the point," he gestured. "What I mean to say is….I feel like I'm missing something."
"I've enjoyed b-being able to talk to you again over the last few hours…."
"So have I," Tempest nodded. "After Raven left, I felt like the Poseidon-forsaken continent sprouted flowers again. What's wrong?"
"When we're done meeting today…," Lindsay murmured. She hugged her far shoulder and gazed pensively aside. "…..y-you'll be going back to Metropolis, won't you?"
"…………that was kinda sorta the plan."
"Why, Garth?"
"The Justice League is going through some major changes right now. It's obvious by now that I've been a major player in their circumstances lately. They trust me now. They need my input as they try to reintegrate Diana and J'onn back into the group while working a bunch of the kinks out. Red Aviary needs to be addressed. And it looks like Mr. Irons may actually be joining the group…especially since the Batman has been absent lately and—"
His voice lingered at the sight of Lindsay. A sad, sighing sight.
He bit his lip and said: "B-But none of that really matters…."
"Does it?" she looked at him. "This whole Slade-Returning stuff sounds really serious. The Justice League needs you, Garth."
"……………..yeah…..they do….," he nodded. He took a deep breath. He said: "But looks like I'm needed elsewhere more…."
Lindsay shook her head. "What do I know?" she brushed a lock of stringy brown hair up over an ear and exhaled. "I'm just like any other citizen of this City. I'm your average schoolgirl. I work at a diner and go to church two to three times a week. This isn't my subject area to dictate in…"
"Isn't it?"
She looked at him. "Garth…don't you think a League full of superheroes is enough to take care of Metropolis?"
"They're fractured, Lindsay. They're trying to form themselves back together while—as Raven believes—a certain apocalyptic fiend may be ripping 'morals' asunder in Gotham City. A bridge needs to be made across this proverbial gap of heroism. They need someone with smarts about this whole crappy scenario. That fish happens to me, funnily enough."
"I know…but…."
"But what, Lindsay? Please…I want to know…"
"It's so selfish of me," she uttered, shaking her head with a hand over her face. "So very selfish…"
He smiled. "I can do 'selfish'."
"……..," she looked up at him. "….don't you think this City needs you too?"
"………."
"The media's afraid to talk about it. People at school avoid the subject. But….the Titans are worse off than the Justice League. It's….It's so sad. It feels like November Fourth never ended, Garth. The same gray, cloudy sorrow has persisted from the beginning to now. We need help. We need all the help we can get."
"Lindsay…..," he breathed. "I…."
"But again, I don't know anything about what's really going on. It's just hard. It's just—"
"I wish I knew what it was like in this City," Tempest murmured. "Over the last month. The last few weeks." He looked sadly at her. His black eyes were thin. "Face it, I didn't leave the Titans because I was trying to go on some all-important quest to figure out some mystery behind the Red Reaper and what not. I left because…..because I was a coward. And because I was fed up with the Titans and their sorrow."
"Garth, th-that's not true!" she gasped.
He softly smiled and raised a finger: "J-Just…Just bear with me for a moment…."
"………"
He took a deep breath and said: "When I was banished from the seas, my last hope—however fleeting—was in the surface world. And as if it isn't obvious enough already, Atlanteans don't hold too favorable an opinion of…." He winced as he tried to find a way to put it: "…..the upper dust wasteland."
Lindsay blinked at that.
"Ahem….," he went on. "The Titans gave me a second chance. And I grabbed it. When Robin died, I was hurt. But not so severely as them. I didn't expect to survive long enough to see his career come to an end anyways. Much less my own. What really sank the knife in was Cyborg's attitude and Raven's indifference about the way things should be handled from there on out. I knew that we were just sitting around, sulking in sorrow over Robin's death. I knew that this 'Terra' needed to be saved from Dagger at all costs. Noir knew that Terra needed to be saved. He couldn't say anything about it. I could. And I mouthed off vehemently. It wasn't a good thing to do. And I hurt from it. I hurt more than from Robin's death. Because being treated so coldly by the Titans told me that something far more permanent than flesh and blood had perished in this dry, gray land. I couldn't stay here for long, Lindsay. Not while that grayness persisted. Not while everything was still dry and….lifeless. I had to get my fins damp. The dampest I could get them. I had to go out and seek answers. And indeed I went out. But all I found were more questions. But at least that pushed me in a good direction. And now with Noir's propulsion throughout Gotham City and Raven's coming-about…..well……things are just now starting to look up. I guess….I guess I wish you could see that, Lindsay. But at the same time….I wish I could see sorrow. I wish I could see true sorrow. Sorrow as you have known it. As the Titans and everyone else in this City has known it. And maybe I will yet. I just….I just have to keep moving for the time being. Because I believe that this is not a war to be fought in one place…but constantly on the go. And…..yeah. It hurts. It hurts only being able to see your face….on paper or in my head or both. Only being able to touch you through the stroke of a pen…yeah, that sucks like calamari. I hoped that meeting you in person could solace some of that. But….heh….leave it to a male guppy to expect solutions to be so……simple."
Silence.
He looked at her. "I can't stay here, Lindsay. Not now. If there's any painfully valuable thing the Titans have taught me, it's that doing exactly what you don't want to do is often for the best. I don't think Noir ever wanted to leave himself. I don't think he wanted to become the framed brunt of media's attacks after the misunderstanding in Metropolis with Metallo and the League. I don't think he wanted any of that crap to hit his proverbial fan. But he's endured all of it for the best. And things are coming together. They all are. I've looked at Noir with admiration for that. And now I look at myself. I look at the distance I've kept from you…the distance I still feel I need to keep from this City to cross the Red gap….and I have to tell myself it's for the best. But…..But it's even tougher to try to tell you that. Cuz so much as looking at you….hearing your voice….smelling your silly scent……..it makes me want to sit down and cry for reasons even Robin's 'death' can't explain."
More silence.
He absent-mindedly picked a little more at his pasta and stared past it with a sigh. "Gee….I'm good with words….aren't I?"
"…..," Lindsay exhaled through her nostrils and gazed off to the side. She was frozen like that for a while. Then there was movement in the corner of her eyes. A body moved over. And then a pair of lean arms were hugging her from behind. Gently. She strongly inhaled.
"…….," Tempest leaned his chin on her shoulder from behind. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Lindsay. The best thing I can do…the most permanent thing I can do now…….is this……"
She bit her lip and closed a pair of moist eyes. A hand reached up and rested over one of his wrists. "'This' is….g-good……"
He shut his dark eyes and gently kissed her ear through a gentle flow of hair. He breathed: "Could we at least have the leisure of giving death a 'holiday'…."
She managed a weak smile. "I've always been under the pretense that Life will eternally defeat Death someday…."
"Hmmm….," his lips curved gently. "You ought to teach me to sing to that tune someday."
"Then maybe you'll come to church with me soon?"
"Ahem….one step at a time, diner girl."
"Hehehehe…."
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
Gotham City.
5:43 pm
Hideout.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
A coin flipped through the air of a run-down office room before landing in the palm of a gnarled, blue hand.
Two-Face's fingers clenched around the object.
A twisted face twisted twice over as a mutated eye glared at a miniature viewscreen.
"Things are boiling down on us, Lex," Two-Face hoarsely uttered. "When the zeppelin fell, it took with it a good number of the Terrible Troupe….most of which was the Parasite's doing. But it cost me a good number of men too. I'm worn thin. And I've had to make things go slowly, especially now that the Bat has finally showed his face again. Just as I suspected…he's been turtling in the belfry this whole time. Watching like a hawk. I wouldn't be surprised if he knows that we have the good stuff in the Wayne Corp. vaults."
"Mr. Dent, you did employ Hagan's talents, did you not?" Luthor leaned forward on the monitor's display and uttered. "If you're short of men, his help will be priceless."
"You think I don't know that, baldy?" Two-Face contemptuously growled. "Yeah….Clayface was helpful with his formula samples. The infiltration of Wayne Corp. went off without a hitch. But don't think that it'll stop there. Right now we're poised to begin the final phase of the shipment."
"What exactly are you waiting for?"
"Dagger's prerogative," Two-Face said. He flipped his coin while talking: "You know how it is. The Parasite moves….Triangular moves. Dagger's got the best gauge for when that Red Streaker's moving around again. And lately, he's been rather dormant. Rumor's out that some major targets of the Parasite's are combining together inside of Gotham City and that's what got him all brooding and crap."
"Hmm……lucky for me that the spotlight's off Metropolis."
"Heh….yeah, Lex," Two-Face clutched his coin and glared. "Luckyyyy…..," he hissed.
"Besides the men Hagan 'trained'," Luthor's eyes narrowed. "What kind of security are we talking about in regards to the goods?"
"I lost the Ventriloquist to the Parasite the other day…."
"How unfortunate. Another psychopath bites the dust. Why am I surprised?"
"Shut your trap. I've got the Croc."
"That oversized lizard won't be enough to stop either Red Aviary or any surprise counter-attack by the League. You know that."
"Then what do you suggest?"
"I'm sending you my best man," Luthor's lips curved. "He's strong enough to pulverize an army, much less a few darkly-caped fledglings. You can thank me later."
"Right….."
"What about Hagan himself?" Luthor asked. "Have you heard from him lately?"
"Never stopped talking to him since he flew from Arkham," Two-Face said. "Don't you worry your pretty face about that."
"How reassuring. Well……I would say 'Godspeed', but I sincerely doubt he is on our side."
"Luthor, when all of this is over, we will not know a greater freedom."
"Is that what Dagger told you?"
"It's what I feel numbnuts."
"Poetic to the last. Don't call me again unless someone important dies again."
"Right. Get off my screen."
Blip!
"Nnnnrgh….," Two-Face flipped his coin a few times, glaring at the empty monitor. "……." He paused. He glanced quietly across the room.
Flanked by two mean-looking thugs with pistols, William B. Fox sat disheveled and frazzled on a beat-up, leather couch.
"So…..are you two still bosom buddies or--?"
"Shut up, you pathetic infant!" Two-Face growled. He pushed his chair back, stood up, and paced across the room in his suit. The coin flipped and sang through the air as he talked: "If it wasn't for you, I'd be free of any Bat-humping goody-goods!"
Fox smirked. "If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be manhandling Wayne Corp. so easily to begin with!"
Two-Face stopped in his tracks. He glared down at Fox. He pointed a gnarled hand and growled: "You watch it, punk. I could off you in a freakin' second!"
"And you won't because….?"
"Your father's too rich. I'd much rather dump the Gotham River into your carcass than give him a reason to hunt me and the rest of Triangular down!"
"How quaint," Fox leaned back with his arms behind his back. "Gotta face it, Harvey. I'm not all that bad. I was the only person to drive away free from Batman and Nightwing's caper in the alleyway. Right?"
"Cuz you're the only one of my rescue team to have urinated in his britches and fled from the heat of battle? Don't insult me…"
"Feh."
Two-Face stood before a boarded window and stared out at the darkening urban landscape of Gotham City. He sighed against the gentle flow of frosty cold air. His coin flipped. His mutated eye lowered its lid. "If what the Oracle found out from your computer files what I think was found out, we could be running into trouble this very night. Word travels fast in Gotham. Even in the old school style. Ya know…" He turned and curled a half-blue lip. "Word of mouth."
"I only saw Batman and Nightwing. Who else could possibly be on their side? Assuming they survived that scuffle in the alleyway…."
"They did….," Two-Face pointed. "And anyone could be on their side. From the Justice League to the Titans to Entrigan to the Creeper. Were you born yesterday in this City or is your face just stupid?"
William examined his nails and smirked: "Hmm…I dunno…can I take the Physical Challenge?"
Cl-Clak!
"……," William blinked. The barrel of a pistol rested between his eyes. "Then again…."
"Nnnngh….," Two-Face growled. "What say I send your brain to the digital airwaves….permanently, hacker?"
Fox gulped.
From the distance, a cold voice throated: "The fools are the worst ones to exterminate, Dent."
"……..," Two-Face lowered his pistol.
Fox nervously glanced over.
Dagger emerged from the shadows, twirling a knife in his hand. He stared coldly at the bunch in the office and uttered: "They're the most reliable at times. Always ones to fall back on and give commands to. You know this."
"I don't need a lecture, Dagger….," Two-Face holstered his pistol and muttered. "I just kicked Luthor off the videophone. Why don't you give my faces something less stressful to talk to?"
"Keep your priorities straight," Dagger said, his brow furrowing but his eyes remaining icily firm. "Things are coming to a heated climax tonight."
Fox blinked. "T-Tonight?"
"The Bat….," Two-Face's fists clenched. "I knew it! He's onto us!"
"It's bigger than that…," Dagger said.
"Red Aviary?"
"No….and I've seen to that."
"How?"
The cold man twirled his blade to a stop and gripped the handle. "I've kept things in…..perspective. I don't think it'll be we who will have to worry about Red Aviary any time soon."
"We're partners, Dagger," Two Face growled. "Don't treat me with too much ambiguity. Remember, you're in my turf now. Not Anderson's or Luthor's. Does this even look like Area 51 to you?"
"Hardly," Dagger shook his head. "Things are even more tame."
"………."
"If you want to know answers," Dagger paced forward, twirling his blade again. "Then I shall tell you. I shall tell you and you alone. And these are things that even Luthor doesn't know."
"………," Two-Face's eyes narrowed. "I'm listening."
"………," Dagger glanced aside.
So did Two-Face. He then realized that Fox was the center of attention. He pocketed his coin away, snapped a finger, and pointed the guards at Fox then out the door.
The thugs nodded and roughly hoisted the billionaire hacker-heir off the couch and out of the room. The door was shut behind him.
"Talk away, Dagger…," Two-Face said.
Dagger leaned his head to the side. "Mr. Dent….have you ever wondered exactly why Wayne Corp. of all companies is integral to Triangular's plot?"
"…………………………."
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Gotham City.
Downtown.
7:55 pm.
Wayne Corp. Building.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Outside.
Where snow was gently falling…not in a flurry, but in a soft-laden drift…
Robin, Batgirl, and I were perched across the towering Wayne Corp. Building.
We sat and crouched around metal, gothic gargoyles stretching out in the frosty air.
The red sky stretched coldly over us. A brisk November wind kicked at my hair and the other two heroes' capes.
We waited.
Silent.
Steady.
Eyes trained on the target across the space.
Batgirl was scanning the streets and nearby lofts with a pair of electronic binoculars. Her red hair fluttered as one wavy piece of scarlet. She said quietly…stealthily: "I can see Batman and Nightwing. They're scouting out the opposite facings of the skyscraper. It won't be long now, and then we can begin the operation."
"Thanks for keeping us posted."
The redhead's lips curved under the seeing instrument. "You're the bird here. I'm surprised you aren't giving the place the good 'ol eagle eye, Tim."
"Love you too, Batgirl."
"………," she lowered her binoculars and blinked through her mask in the Boy Wonder's direction. "Jeez…aren't you going to scold me for not calling you 'Robin' in uniform?"
"Too late now. Besides, who cares?"
"………..well allrighty," Batgirl returned the binoculars to her masked eyes and scanned forth again. "Moving right along…."
I glanced at Robin. I then looked at Batgirl from the side. Thoughtfully. Her thin figure. The beautiful red hair. The slowly breathing form that denoted lungs used to exhaling words of wisdom. Gloved fingers built for typing as much as karate chopping.
So……this is Kara's 'friend'?
………
Yeah, I can see that.
I ran a hand through my long black bangs.
I glanced over.
Robin was looking at me. He smiled.
"…….?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You've been rather quiet lately, Noir," he said.
"……," I blinked. I hand signed: 'Yeah. I hope so.'
"Heheheheh," he chuckled.
Okay. Now I'm really worried.
I leaned my head to the side. Curiously.
"What?" he leaned back against a gargoyle and shrugged like a petite, eyemasked Fonze. "Forgive me for affording a smile on a day of rebirth."
Day of……rebirth?
Hmmm……
I hand-signed: 'Robin, may I ask what has happened to you?'
"Why? Do you hate it?"
'I am not sure yet.'
"Heheh," he folded his arms and stared over the skyscrapers edge. "Yeah. Me neither, to tell the truth."
I scratched my head. Confused.
He took a deep breath, and his plastic grin became something more permanently somber. But there was still that awkwardly fresh enthusiasm lacing his voice as he said: "For the longest time, I've not really been living, Noir. It matters little if I 'died' or not on November Fourth. Robin never had much of a solid body to be evaporated or tossed into some grave six feet in the ground. I've been about as real as that monument they erected in our City Cemetery. I'm just…….I'm just an ideal, Noir."
"…….."
He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "I've achieved what I shot for two years ago. And back then, I thought I would only be good enough to become fifty percent perfection. My best bet was to be half an essence of something…..something hardcore. Unbeatable. Badass. But I proved myself wrong….again. I became more than Robin. I….I was a Titan. I was a force for all forces to reckon with. And as much as I may have angsted about it or my nemeses may have taunted me about it or you and the other members of the team plagued me about it….my weaknesses were nothing. Working for Slade, I could beat the stuffings out of all my former peers in spite of their powers. Seeking revenge, I nearly killed Slade and many of his metaphysical monstrosities during over a dozen occasions. Normal humans don't just become that. I'm not trying to be full of myself, Noir. I'm just telling the truth."
I nodded. 'You are the Boy Wonder, Robin.'
"Yup….damn straight," he muttered. He gazed at me through the side of his mask. "But is that enough?"
"……….."
"How far do you have to go to become even better than perfection?" he sighed. "Perhaps….you need to go further into yourself…and decrease from that one hundred percent. Perfection….isn't perfect, Noir. Why would my teammates be disabled in sorrow after my absence if I was perfect? I may have been the best Robin ever, but I was never the best human ever. And a human lives with his weaknesses. A human knows when to separate personality from vigor without leaning too obsessively towards the latter. A human knows……knows that an idea is not something built on blood. It will only consume itself when bearing witness to its own weight in meat…."
Silence.
A drift of frosty wind.
A shudder…like the wave of an ivory lighthouse's illuminated sweep through the red sky.
"I never bought Starfire flowers, Noir…"
That caught my attention.
I looked at him. Curious….
"All the time I ever knew her…," he murmured. Gazing softly through the falling flakes towards the towering immensity of Wayne Corp. "…I never got her a single rose. Or daffodil. Or baby's breath…or whatever the hell they're all called. And why is that?" He took a deep breath and stirred where he reclined against a gargoyle. "I've saved so many people I've practically saved them from saving themselves. And to what end? To die a fake death and send the world spiraling into some read-streaking oblivion. And somewhere Starfire lingers in the Tower…around a cemetery…over the rooftops of a City turning grayer by the hour. And all for nothing. Because the ideal is still alive. The Robin lives life as a ghost. And if he goes the way he was always made to go, he'll haunt the gray City and her gray sighs forever. And what inhuman part of me—no matter how hardcore—could possibly ever want that?"
"……," I inhaled. A gentle smile. I shrugged and shook my head.
He gazed at me. "Not a single day has gone by that I haven't thought about her, Jordan. And….and perhaps that means…..there was a part of me that was alive those two years of being a Titan leader after all." He shuddered and rubbed the back of his neck while looking off towards the crimson horizon. "….Tim was there. Tim was there the whole time. How can I deny him further?" His eyemask thinned and I pictured a pair of unseen eyes closing underneath. "How can I….hurt Starfire further? Or you….or the rest of the Titans for that matter?"
Silence.
I shifted where I was kneeling. I bit my lip. I glanced at him again through my shades with a soft breath.
Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing……?
"Just….the s-sound of her voice…," Robin murmured. "….whenever she would so much as say my name, I felt like I had become part of something more precious than anything in the world. How could anyone care so…whole heartedly about another person in spite of all his weaknesses?" He sighed and seemed to hug himself slightly. For a moment, I saw a flash-eyed glimpse of the little boy who was crying in a warehouse soon after Jericho left his body. "….how could I ever….ever have taken that for granted?"
I swallowed. I smiled crookedly and hand-signed: 'I do not think you ever took Starfire for granted, Robin. I think you took yourself too seriously.'
He narrowed his eyemask. "I-I'm sorry. My reading sign-language still needs more work. Could you repeat that?"
I winced. 'I said, I think you have nothing to worry about……' I simpered.
"Heh….it doesn't help to push away the symptoms when the source is the problem, Noir," Robin said. "But after tonight, that's all going to change. Robin will live again. And in turn….he'll drag a relic to the surface. I hope that'll be enough….t-to remedy the loss of the Titans….once all of this is said and done and we return to our loved ones."
Hmmm……
'Loved ones'……
I smiled at that.
"I owe it all to you, Noir," he said. "Here's to a successful mission…." He held a gloved hand out.
I smiled. I extended my flesh hand.
We gripped each other. Palm to palm. We tightened our hold and parted with a snap of fingers before colliding our fists back together and pointing.
I winked a black eye.
He chuckled. "Heheheheh….still got it, Number Two."
I chuckled breathily.
ZAAT!
"God, whatever happened to the age-old pinky swear? Must have fallen with the Soviet Union."
"Waah!" Batgirl jumped, juggled her binoculars, nearly dropped them, but grabbed them at the last second. "Whew….darn it. You make me feel amateur everytime you just appear like that."
"I wish I could say I'm sorry," the Messenger shrugged with a smile from where he stood on the ledge above us. "…but I make it a habit to startle redheads. I could never do it back home without 'Polyphemus' getting pissed off and blasting a hole through my chest."
"What's up, Messenger?" Robin asked.
"Well if you aren't bright-eyed and bushy-caped!" the Asian teen winked. "Lemme guess. You switched tights."
"Make it quick or else I'll sick Noir on you."
"He wouldn't kill me. He's my friend."
"Wyldecarde then."
'I will do it, too.'
"Alright, Alright," the Messenger rolled his eyes. "I hear you three are on a mission."
"Yes," Batgirl nodded.
Robin's eyemask thinned: "What about it?"
"Uh uh…wait for Batman and ex-Robin first."
SWOOSH!
THWIISH!
As if on cue, Batman and Nightwing returned via grappling hook.
"Speak of the devils!" the Messenger sing-songed.
"Waah!" Nightwing gasped and teetered. Batman caught his shoulder. "Whew….dammit….frickin' nerd!"
"Hehehe…I know, right?" Batgirl smirked.
"Messenger…," Batman spoke against the cold wind of the elevated perch. "What brings you here?"
He dug his hands into his sweatjacket's pouch. "The same thing that always summons me to appear."
I bit my lip.
"Something's wrong, isn't there?" Robin stood up. "Let us have it!"
"I wish I could, Mr. Red Breast," the asian teen uttered. "However, I can tell you what isn't wrong."
"How do you mean?" Nightwing asked, his eyemask thin.
"I've been hopping all over Gotham City over the last few hours," he said. "There isn't a sign of Red Aviary…….anywhere."
"………."
Batgirl shifted nervously. "Th-Then that means…."
"I think he's waiting for something," the Messenger said. "It's not like him to disappear. But it is like him to brood."
"Deathstroke isn't blind," Batman spoke. "He has to know by now that we're organizing something."
"And then he must know that Robin and Noir are both together….and out in the open," Batgirl added.
The Titan leader and I exchanged glances.
"Perhaps he knows that, perhaps he doesn't," the Messenger spoke. "I just thought you all needed to be….updated on his absence."
"We're about to perform a heavy strike on Triangular," Nightwing said. "Perhaps at the same time, Red Aviary will strike." He glanced at the others. "Much in the same way that Deathstroke attacked the Terrible Troupe when Noir and Triangular were battling them at the zeppelin and Kane Building!"
"That's a risk we're going to have to take," Batman uttered. Frowning. "We've come too far to back down now. But only if we all agree."
"I'm all for this operation," Batgirl said. "Triangular's just as dangerous as Red Aviary if you ask me."
"I'm in too," Nightwing nodded. "It's about time I kicked some ass…..besides Noir's, of course."
I gave him the finger. The left finger.
"Hey!" Batgirl smiled. "That prosthetic's coming in handy already!"
Nightwing muttered.
"You know I'm sure as Hell in," Robin said. He glanced at me. "Isn't that right?"
I gave a thumb's up.
"Then you'd better hurry," the Messenger gestured. "There's a nest full of triangle-humpers in that place."
"Yes. We know," Batman said. "Nightwing and I just scouted the place. The usual security guards are on patrol. But if I'm right—"
"And you usually are…," Batgirl added.
"—then we might not be able to trust Bruce Wayne's own employees."
Nightwing leaned his head to the side. "This all comes full circle to Clayface, doesn't it?"
Again, Robin shuddered.
And again, I noticed.
"If what I assume is correct, we might have a……very interesting fight on our hands."
"Hmm….," Batgirl smiled.
Nightwing folded his arms. "I can deal with….'interesting'."
"Man…I like you guys," the Messenger winked.
Batman glared at him. "Are you done with your warnings?"
"Do you want me to be?"
"Here….," Batgirl tossed him a communicator. "Keep it on that frequency. It's a dial tune or two away from the one we're using to talk with Alfred."
"Ah. The all-hour-Butler-Channel."
"If you learn anything new about Red Aviary…," Batman spoke. "Contact us. We will be most appreciative."
"As if we aren't already," Robin said.
I smirked.
"Right then," the Messenger saluted. "Sure beats embarrassing lesbians in Vegas."
ZAAT!
Robin did a double-take. He gave me a strange look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
I sweatdropped and lied: 'I have no clue.'
"Noir…."
I looked Batman's way obediently.
"We're going in. We need you to take point with your stealth. Nightwing and I have spotted a good entry point. I'll guide you over the communicator since I know the place. Nightwing and Robin will follow suit as you prepare the way for them. Then Batgirl and I will take care of the rest."
I took a deep breath. I nodded.
Batman whipped out a communicator. "Alfred. Come in."
"I'm here, Master Bruce."
"We're about to begin. Standby."
"With bells on my rested feet. This feels like the old days, sir."
"Let's make it so that today will be an 'old day' for us in the future."
"Agreed."
"Nightwing. Robin. Get yourselves ready."
"Right on."
"Way ahead of you."
Batman looked at me. "Okay Noir….showtime."
I took a deep breath.
The Equalizer knows how to follow directions.
I stood up straight. Flexed my smoke-charged limbs. And pulled Myrkblade out.
CHIIIING!
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Wayne Corp. Building.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
CLANK!
A grate to a ventilation shaft in the ceiling flew off its hinges and fell on the floor of a dark utility closet.
CLANG!
I dropped down, Myrkblade in one hand. My black left 'arm' extended. I drifted towards the closet door, under which a thin crack was spilling light across the glinting tile floor.
I pressed myself up against the door. I leaned an ear against it. Taking a deep breath, I stretched my black hand down and felt with a current of murk under the door and along the floor on the other side. My spatial sense kicked into gear. I bodies.
"Snkkkt—Master Jordan, are you there?"
I blinked my black eyes in the dark. I smirked.
Master Jordan……heh……
I wonder if that makes me part of the family now……
I tapped a tiny button on the extra-tiny communicator in my ear. A simple morse code response.
"Very well. Master Bruce is sending me data concerning the security net. There is a camera that does sweeps of the hallway just outside that eleventh story closet room. Unless he's mistaken, the camera should be tilted away and giving you plenty of access…………and………now!"
I took a deep breath.
FL-FLASH!
I teleported through the current of murk under the closet door's crack and solidified on the other side. I was in an amber-lit hallway of luscious proportions. The walls and floor looked and felt like marble. Highly expensive. Highly regal.
Highly 'Wayne'.
I looked up. I squinted.
Through my shades, I saw besides a light a whirring, tilting camera. It was angling itself to face me.
I took a deep breath, flattened myself against the wall, and covered my body with a fountain of murk. Cloaked, I invisibly….slowly crept my way underneath and past the camera. I made my way towards the far end of the hallway and slinked around a turn.
"Keep an ear turned in, Master Jordan. There should be two guards at a station around the bend. Master Bruce wants you to disable them and hide them somewhere. That shouldn't be much trouble for you. Just……whatever happens, do not let them trip off the emergency alarms. Dick and Tim are making for the utility floor where a service elevator waits for them. But for that elevator to take them down to where they can aid you, they need you to clear the path. In the meantime, Batman and Batgirl are working their way to the security network hub downstairs to see if they can give you an edge. Good luck, Master Jordan."
I took a deep breath and invisibly blurred along.
And thanks to you too, Super Jeeves.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Upstairs inside the Tower…
A huge air conduit opened cylindrically to a utility room. A huge metal turbine spun slowly, filling the dark interior with a continuous groan and hum.
After an awkward stillness, a laser beam shot out from the cylinder-side of the fan.
ZAAP! ZAP! Z-ZAAAP!
Each shot successfully ripped through contact points of three metal bars covering the fan's area like a great. The 'lid' of the new hole crackled and fell over. CL-CLANG!
With a breath, Nightwing timed himself just right and rolled through the cylinder just barely dodging the blades of the fan.
"Nnngh!"
Robin did the same, following right after him.
"Mmmf….now that's an interest."
"Don't steal my lines."
Robin smirked. "Well aren't you confuzzled!"
"Shhh!" Nightwing crept forward towards the wide doors of the service elevator across the way. "Your Titan buddy is hopefully paving our way as we speak. We've made good time, hopefully he has too."
"Noir's one of the fastest people I know," Robin whispered back. He half-winced; "I mean that in a good way."
"But of course."
"What's gotten you so edgy?"
"I hate waiting," Nightwing pouted with his hands on his hips.
"So? Let's think of something constructive before our lift arrives."
"Like what, Einstein?"
"…….," Robin glanced over. He saw a few garbage basins on trays…full of black plastic bags.
He smirked.
He walked over and rolled the trays back and forth. "Hmmm….I think it's take out day at Wayne Corp."
"?"
"Here….give me a hand….," and Robin reached in his utility belt for something.
T-T-T-T-T-T-
I snaked around a corner.
I squinted my invisible eyes.
I saw at a fork in the marble, reflective hallway a desk. And two security guards were positioned there. One sat at the desk, his face lit with monitors as he eyed what I imagined to be security feed. The other was leaning against a wall, looking sick. He had his face in his hand and he was moaning.
"…….."
"Snkkkt……are you there still, Master Jordan?"
I tapped my earpiece with a black finger.
"Batman thinks those hired hands are not what they appear to be. Before you do anything, do give them a look over, will you?"
I took a deep breath.
I reached a hand up, and lowered my shades. My cloak faded, but I snuck back in the shadows and watched with naked eyes from there. Concentrating on every line and contour of their bodies in the brightened aura of my vision. And then…
The standing guard moaned.
The one sitting looked up at him with an indignant rise of his eyebrow. "Hey! Psst….what's your problem?"
"It's….w-wearing off….."
"What's wearing off?"
The guard removed his hand from his face, and his eyes and nose and mouth were all…….'drooping'. That's the best way I could describe it. A melting pumpkin sort of a thing.
"Nnnngh…..wh-what do you think?" he gurgled.
I made a face.
Oh lovely. Shit almighty……the Hell?
"Already? I thought you used half a can earlier!"
"I-I was saving for….t-tonight….the boss thinks something big is happening."
"Save your breath. The more you talk, the more your face changes. You're looking less and less like Officer Brandon."
The nametag of the 'melting'-face guard reflected 'Brandon'. He said: "Look…will you help me out?"
"Pfft….all right," the sitting guard rolled his eyes and opened a drawer. He pulled out a can which he unscrewed and handed to the other person. "There. Make good use of it. Don't expect me to bail your ass out everytime."
"Don't need to tell me twice, man…," the standing one reached a finger in…took a gloop of some brown mudlike putty, and spread it over his face. "Yeesh….I hate this job. My mother won't even recognize me!"
"Shut up and become Brandon again already."
The man finished spreading the mud over his face. He then put the cup down and applied both sets of fingers, 'shaping' his lips and mouth and eyes back into normal shape. Soon, he was the clean-cut profile of an ordinary security guard….or so I sickly surmised.
"There….," he sighed like a refilled drug addict. "That's taken care of…."
"Don't be so sloppy next time. This night's important."
"Alright already…Mom!"
"Mind your post."
"I'm doing that…I'm doing that…sheesh….."
I was well into retching-mode at this point. I somehow found my cool and shuddered, flexing my limbs and shaking off the willy-nillies.
God……metamorphs are so gross. Good thing I spent the time at Wayne Manor meditating and not pigging out on Alfred's French cooking.
"Snkkkt! Well? How's it look?"
Speaking of which……
"Do they seem peculiar to you? The guards, that is……"
I tapped my communicator.
'H-E-L-L—Y-E-S.'
"………"
I cleared my throat.
I tapped again.
'G-O-I-N-G—I-N.'
"Very well. Good luck—"
SWOOOOOSH! I blurred out in an instant.
"….?" The guard sitting at the post looked up. "Huh?"
I snarled, leapt over the desk, and slammed my foot into his face.
"AAAA—!" SPLAT!
I made a face as I descended in mid-air.
Did his face just make a friggin' 'splat'?
Frickin' gross goose god almighty!I
THWOOOSH-THWAP! The man fell back against the wall in his slumping chair. My foot managed to make a crater in his cranium. And….it was stuck.
"!" I gritted my teeth and fought and yanked and struggled to pry my foot free from his mangled, muddy orifice.
"HEY!" the 'Brandon' poser gasped and ran towards me. He reached to his side for a pistol.
I took a deep breath and jabbed Myrkblade towards him.
SLASH!
He pulled his gun out….but not for long.
CRACK!
The murk-laded blade smashed his firearm apart.
He winced and skidded to a stop.
I took a deep breath and yanked my body outward with a pulse of smoke.
SPLORK!
I popped free of the sitting man's face, spun towards the standing guard, thwacked him hard in the side with Myrkblade.
WHACK!
He teetered.
Plant! I landed. I snarled and swung my black fist into his face.
SPLUNK! A crater formed in his head. He gurgled as a putty-soft cranium oozed around my fist.
I gritted my teeth and shook….shook….shook my left arm.
SPLUT! I jerked it free.
The man collapsed on the floor, hissing and emitting muffled cries. He frantically brought two hands to his face and assisted a rebuilding process.
I stood in place. Shuddering.
"You idiot!"
I spun and looked behind me. I blinked.
The guard in the chair was 'pulling' his face back together with two nimble hands. Mud solidified into skin and tactile facial pieces as a pair of lips matched a growingly distinct voice accompanied by an identifiable frown. "Are you actually stupid enough to attack us here? Do you have ANY clue just how holed up we all are in this place and—"
SPLAT! Myrkblade temporarily divided his skull in twain.
Shut up……
THWOMP! He fell over on the ground…twitching into unconsciousness as a generic 'face' gradually reformed on its own.
"Snkkkt…grrgggkktt….," the other guard hissed and twitched as he tried to reform his face.
Exactly what is their advantage by doing that to themselves?
I let him be for the moment and walked over to the security feed. I nearly pratfalled from what I saw.
-T-T-T-T-T-T-
A dozen black-and-white security monitors displayed various, random interior locations of the Wayne Corp building. The images ranged from marble hallways to money vaults to high-level offices to lobbies. But two or three monitors in particular displayed what appeared to be an underground warehouse of sorts lined with huge, bank worthy seals and metallic doors. In the shadowed corner of one such large interior, a couple dozen innocent people were bound hand and foot and twitched helplessly under the watchful eye of what appeared to be robotic sentry guns. Most—if not all of the individuals were security guards and inner sanctum employees. Patrolling the far corners of the warehouses were men dressed as security guards with guns. And many of them quite remarkably shared a face or two identical to the ones being held captive. In the distance of those few camera footages, conspicuously glowing vials rested in packages heavily guarded.
All of this could be seen across the electrified wall of the bottom floor security network center.
Two guards sat at chairs before the images. Their postures were casual….lazy….at ease. One fingered a can of muddy cream as he spoke to the other: "How long do we have to keep those creeps alive anyways?"
"That's up to the boss, man. But I seriously doubt they'll live to see the goods leave this place."
"I wish I knew more about what exactly it is we're guarding," the man with the can spoke. He fingered his face with muddy cream and malleably adjusted his features to look like a photo of an actual security guard resting on the security camera controls. "Especially if we're butchering our faces just to work here."
"Heh…the pay's pretty damn good. Not to mention fringe benefits," the other winked.
"Heheheheh…yeah," the man gave himself a high brow. "On weekends, call me 'Susan'."
"Hahahaha!"
Th-Th-Th-Th-THWISH!
A birdarang flew in and knocked the can out of the one guard's grasp. The cream spilled all over his crotch. His abdominal area promptly began to melt into bioorganic putty.
"AAAAUGH! SHIT!"
The other guard jumped up. "What in the—"
SWOOOOSH! Batman billowed around a corner of metal wracks and slammed a fist into the 'guard's' chest.
WHUMP!
"OOF!" the man wheezed and bent over. His face shifted to another contour.
"Nnngh!" Batman uppercutted him.
SPLAT! The man's face exploded and some drops of mud splattered on a camera monitor. His body slumped to the ground and twitched for as agonizingly long as it took for his cranium to reshape.
Thwap! Thwomp! Batgirl marched in, depositing two unconscious guards on the floor of the dark security network room. She dusted her hands off and said: "That takes care of the lobby. Now if I can just get into the security systems, we can give Noir and the others some breathing space."
"It's now or never…," Batman marched over to the man seated.
He was clutching in vain at his melting thighs, whimpering. He looked up at Batman.
"Better keep a firm grip on yourself," the Dark Knight said before promptly grabbing the chair and tossing the man out of it.
Fwoosh! "Aaaah!" THWOMP!
Batman offered the seat to Batgirl, which was covered with splotchy brown mud. "Care to sit down?"
She made a face, cleared her throat, and shuffled over to the computer console. "I-I think I'll stand. Thank you."
"Suit yourself….," Batman tossed the seat blindly over his shoulder—effectively knocking back out a thug who happened to be stirring awake at the time.
THAP! "Ugh…."
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-T-T-Tap… Batgirl typed heavily on the keyboard. "Alfred, come in."
"I'm here, Miss Gordon."
"Give Noir the green light. I'm clearing his level of all security feeds. He should be free to proceed through his floor and bypass the operator controls of the service elevator."
"Aye, right away. Good work."
"Why thank you, Alfred."
Batman leaned over her shoulder. "While you're at it, get us more shots of the Vault area. I want to see exactly what we're dealing with."
"Right away," she nodded and hacked into the security systems. "Erm….I-I need an omega level authorization code."
"Bruce Wayne's password is 'TMW42'."
"Hmmm…," Batgirl smiled. "'Thomas and Martha Wayne?'"
"Right."
"What's the '42' stand for?"
A thug suddenly recovered, pulled out a club, and charged Batman's backside. "Raaaugh!"
Batman blindly raised a gloved fist and backhanded the thug in the face. SP-SPLAT! "Nnnskkkt!" THWOMP!
"That's a trade secret."
"Gotcha….," Batgirl typed her way in. "Accessing…."
T-T-T-T-T-T-
One by one, the security monitors behind the desk blacked out.
I was in the middle of laying the unconscious bodies of the two 'guards' behind the desk.
Hope they don't congeal together. Ickk……
"Snkkkt—You have clearance, Master Jordan."
"?" I looked up.
One by one, the cameras' red lights were fading to black. They stopped whirring and sweeping the marble interior.
"I suggest you make haste for the service elevator."
I nodded.
CHIIIIIING!
I pulled Myrkblade out once again and stomped my way down the hallway. Cloaking invisibly halfway down the shadowy corridor.
FW-FWOOSH!
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Robin and Nightwing were busy in the utility room, rigging the garbage tray on wheels with various, dark objects. Nightwing was attaching rough 'weights' made of metal pylons to the front of the tray to give it bulk.
"I'm not much of a Macgyver fan. But if this works, Robin….I'm hiring you for the next Stargate t.v. spinoff."
"Wow….Batgirl's right. You are a nerd."
"Eh?"
"Robin? Nightwing? Your turn is almost here."
"We're getting ready, Alfie," Nightwing said.
"I beg your pardon?"
"We've got a gift…," Robin smirked. "Triangular or bust."
"Oh dear. I hope Master Bruce will approve of this."
"Who's to fret over Batman? This is Titan prerogative!"
Nightwing gave Robin a suspicious glare. "Hey….does that suddenly make me your subordinate?"
Robin shrugged with a smirk. "You said it first."
"Heh. You're a Robin for sure."
"Done!" Robin grabbed the tray. "Help me roll it to the elevator."
"Gotcha."
"Alfred!" Robin spoke, wheeling the tray across the utility room. "Tell Noir to—"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"—go all out in the hallway outside the elevator doors! Titan Leaders' change of plans!"
Alfred sat at the Batcomputer with a hand cupping the communicator over his ear: "Are you sure that's such a wise idea, Master Tim?"
"Trust me. This will kill a lot more birds with one stone than Red Aviary ever did."
Alfred smirked. "Now that's the spirit." He hit a switch on the Batcomputer. "Master Jordan. Robin issues a new command for you to—"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
"—take out the guards of that floor with all the force you can muster. Do not worry about stealth anymore. Trust him."
Three guards stood at one end of the marble hallway before the service elevator.
One made a face and glanced at the others. "Did you hear something?"
FWOOSH! I solidified behind him, uncloaking with a downswing of Myrkblade straight through his skull.
SPLAAAT! His putty head divided. He dropped his gun and twitched.
I snarled and kicked him in the rear. THAP!
He stumbled forward head first—like a bull—straight into another fake guard.
"AAAA—" SQUISH! Their heads collided wetly and morphed together. They struggled with a cranial tug of war, writhing and pulling at each other's soggy heads.
The third guard gasped and aimed his pistol at me. BLAM! BL-BLAM!
I blurred towards him, jerking Myrkblade up left and right to deflect the bullets. SWIISH! CLANK! SWOOSH! CLANG! I ran and leapt into him with a flying kick. TWHAP!
He flew back and slammed his head first into the wall. His skull flattened into his neck and took its sweet time to stretch back. In the meantime, the other two behind me split apart and fell down unconscious.
I took a deep breath. I eyed the elevator. I eyed a gray—doored room next to it. I walked over and tried the knob. It was locked. I lifted my black hand into view, took a breath, and plunged it at the door with all my might.
CRACK!
The 'glove' prosthetic easily smashed through the lock.
"……," I smirked.
Well, that's promising.
I kicked the battered door open.
I marched in.
I slipped my shades down and peered through the darkness till I fount the utility elevator's controls.
"There's a piece of security hardware controlling elevator from inside that closet. If you were to somehow disable it, you could re-route controls of the elevator to your location and—"
SLASSSH! CRKKKK! I ripped an electrified black box to shreds. POW! The hallway echoed with the sizzling destruction. The startled, angry cries of distant 'guards' sounded from a nearby room and grew louder in response.
I smirked.
"Well……Master Tim's wildcard certainly gets the job done when there's a need for loudness."
I nodded to the air, took a breath, and cloaked so as to blend in with the shadows of the closet and hide…
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap!
Batgirl typed and typed and typed and typed and brightened.
"There!" She struck the enter key hard. "All camera access to the Vaults!"
Subsequent, monochromatic images popped up on the screens.
"Hostages!" Batgirl gasped.
"They're the ones being replaced…."
"So Two-Face or Dagger had these men copy Clayface's formula so that they could impersonate the actual staff of Wayne Corp?"
"Facial feature by facial feature…"
"Then that explains how they took over the security infrastructure so quickly!"
"If they got in this far….," Batman's eyeslits narrowed. "There's nothing to stop them from going further."
Batgirl gazed at the Dark Knight, blinking. "You mean…."
"They may know Bruce Wayne's secrets," Batman said. "All of them."
Batgirl bit her lip.
Batman pointed: "Quick. Zoom in on the shipment. I want to map out a perfect ambush route."
"On it."
"The soonest Nightwing, Robin, and Noir join up…we're going to rendezvous with them. If we're to take that shipment, we have to do it the quickest way possible."
"And what about Bruce Wayne's assets?"
Batman's jaw tightened. "In this situation…..those are all expendable."
"………"
T-T-T-T-T-T-
Six guards wandered nervously down the hallway. At the far end was the service elevator. They held their guns and looked around…then came upon the bodies lying on the floor.
"The Hell happened to them?"
"Someone was here…."
"Are they alive?"
"Yes. Just give them time to…..pull themselves together."
"Ickk….god, I'd hate for that to happen to one of us!"
"Shhh! Someone's here!" a guard pointed towards the smashed closet.
"……."
"……."
"I'm going in," a tall, buff fellow said. He whipped out a taser in one hand and held his pistol in another. "Cover me!"
The others nodded and readied their firearms. Cl-Clak! Clak!
The man drifted forward. He neared the closet. Closer….closer.
Ding!
Everyone jolted.
Schwissssssh! The service elevator opened up.
The guards raised their pistols.
………
A garbage tray rolled out by itself. It made a light grinding noise against the marble floor.
A good few guards raised their fake eyebrows.
The tray came to a stop amidst them, weights dangling on the far sides.
"……"
"……"
"Uhm…."
One guard stepped forward.
He looked inside the tray.
His eyes widened.
A dozen explosive birdarangs/nightarangs rested on black plastic bags. One in the center started blinking. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeep!
"CRUD!" the guard spun around and motioned towards the far side of the hallway as he ran. "MOVE IT! MOV—"
POW!
"UNNGH!" the men flinched.
And…..chain reaction.
P-P-POW! POW! BLAM!
The concussion and fiery blast sent all six flailing against the walls.
TH-THWAP!
SMACK!
SPLUT!
Their bodies were paralyzed momentarily as their torsos and heads suffered putty deformations. The whole room was thus silenced…cleared.
The smoke and ash faded.
"……," I marched out of the closet…uncloaking.
I stood above a crater in the marble where the garbage tray used to be.
"….." I smirked. I turned and gazed at the elevator.
Nightwing and robin appeared from around the edges of the wide doorframe. They smirked and gave thumbs' up.
I returned with a salute.
CLANG!
A door to my side suddenly kicked loose.
I gasped.
I spun—
"HRESSSHA!" a pale, muscled figure flew at me.
THWACK! A gnarled fist flew into my chest.
I slid back, gripping Myrkblade and wincing.
"Hresssh….," Killer Croc glared and drooled at me. He stood shirtless with his upper limbs flexing in bloodlust. "I still remember you from Vegassss….boy. I reckon it's about time I taught you the meaning of 'pulling your rectum out through your mouth'!"
I groaned. I squinted at his forehead. Any luck that skull's made of putty too?
THWOOOOSH-THWACK!
Myrkblade slammed straight into his skull….and stopped there.
"……..," a wincing Killer Croc flinched all over and frowned twice as much. "Hresssssssssssh….."
I bit my lip.
Uh……I think I only pissed him off……
SWOOOOSH! He charged at me. SMACK! A sharp fist slammed into my shoulder.
I literally spun and sprawled across the hallway.
THWAP!
I landed on the floor besides a half-solid thug. I shuddered in pain.
"RRRGRH!" Killer Croc punched his fist through a firebox and ripped out a fire extinguisher. CRKKK! He held the red tank over his head and loomed over me. "Word of advice, Smokey! What happens in Vegas….STAYS in Vegasss!"
I flinched, expecting the bone-crushing blow.
"HRESSHA!" he wielded the red bludgeon---
SW-SW-SW-SW-SW-SWISH! CLANK! A birdarang flew and embedded into the machine. Piercing it. POW! It exploded in Croc's scaly grasp, covering him from head to tow in CO2.
"AAAAAAUGH!" he flinched and fought off the painful shower.
Stomp-Stomp-Stomp-Stomp-P-PLANT! THWISH-THWISH! Robin ran and vaulted into the mutant's back. WHAM! His steel-tipped boots slammed into Killer Croc's spine.
"AAAUGH!" the freak ragdolled across the marble hallway floor.
Robin landed, gritted his teeth, produced his bo-staff, extended it—snkkt!—and charged Killer Croc. TH-TH-THWISH! The staff twirled.
Nightwing ran over and helped me to my feet, wincing. We both looked over.
"Nnnngh…," Killer Croc rubbed his powdered head and tried standing up.
TH-THWACK! The metal staff flew across his skull.
"OW!" He shouted.
THWAP! The end of the staff pinned his head to the ground by his throat.
He looked up and gasped, his mutated jaw gaping. "Y-You!"
"Hello, Croc….," Robin snarled. "Remember me? Gee…I'm whooping your sorry, scaley-ass! Just like old times!"
"But…But…B-B-B-But….!" Killer Croc scrambled to crawl backwards, shivering all over. Eyes wide. "Y-You're dead!"
Robin smirked. "Am I?" He grinded his staff into Croc's throat.
"Nnnngh!" the reptilian man writhed.
Nightwing smirked and whispered at me: "Can I have a 'hell yeah'?"
I nodded. My lips moved twice.
Robin leaned over and leered at him. "You should know I'm way too hardcore for Death, Croc." He leaned back up and raised the staff over his head. "After all….I'm a hard act to follow."
TH-THWISH!
THWACK!