[31st January 2011]

[The Cauldron, Gotham City, New Jersey, United States of America]

Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot would prefer, generally, not to frequent places such as this but times had been rather eventful in Gotham of late and circumstances had changed from what they were before the quake. Now this hive of scum and filth was, rather suddenly and unexpectedly, one of the 'better off' areas of post disaster Gotham. Certainly worth a trip from his stronghold in the Lounge; even if just to have a quick inspection of what could be at the least neutral ground, and more than likely a recruiting pool. It was midday of course, wasn't safe to go out at night anymore, not with a rather large escort...not that Gotham had ever been safe at night, but the recent bloodsucking pest problem had only made it worse.

"Ah, Thomas, ever a pleasure to see you" he greeted the burly, armed, and sunglass clad man who apparently found religion, and then either magic powers or the meta-gene through it. A rather convenient faith at for one of his profession, and Oswald had to admire the low cunning of adopting a creed of 'pragmatism' over such things as morals. It had been something to consider, but not truly beneficial to himself judging by the choices available so he had shelved it; all that had come from it was a useful source for 'warding' his Lounge. That and another 'business partner' in the shape of the strange mob boss calling himself Papa Midnite who himself had been seeking 'business partners' for some mostly legal enterprises related to magic.

"Nah, I know ya don't mean that Pengy old pal, but yer welcome come to our lovely part of hell as me guest, business to do I guess" the hitman turned quasi-priest/part time mob boss grinned to Oswald back like the piece of filth in human form that he was, motioning with his hand for his shadows to relax. Oswald did similar with a nod, his two best guards following along behind him as he strolled away from the car, eyes taking in every detail on the street. Almost normal inside the fortified perimeter with it's almost clean streets and member of the GCPD in uniform talking to an old woman.

Normal, if one ignored the faint sounds of gunfire in the building nearby, or the nearly snipers at various well hidden spots atop the roofs. Oswald adjusted his direction slightly, off towards the gunfire but still allowing Monaghan to lead as the big oaf babbled on about getting garbage collection services restored. Taking credit for others work clearly, or attempting to hide it, as Oswald's sources indicated it was the mercenary's pet policewoman who handled most of the actual day to day order within The Cauldron. Or his erstwhile ally Duke Thomas and his gang in the district across the city...all GCPD and US Army approved now.

'A useful lesson to learn, a bit late to try do so on my part perhaps...no, a few private security firms might make excellent auxiliaries to Gordon as this lot have. He is rather short of officers right now after all' he mused to himself a glance seeing a familiar, yet not familiar, form kneeling and digging in the dirt. Dear Pamela had been a wreck since her encounter with what was apparently magical plant law enforcement, a broken doll, and it seemed rumours were true she'd ended up here and shacked up this oaf for protection. Useless without her powers true...but a nice little display of power alongside the skulls and warnings atop the entrance areas to remind the plebeians to stay in line.

"I see you've been training the youngsters in useful skills, interesting" he remarked watching a number of teenagers and older children being shown how to use guns, knives, and what appeared to be basic fighting stances as they entered a dojo of sorts. More of the odd religious symbols of Monaghan's on the wall, a shrine perhaps off in the corner, as the familiar sounds of a pistol being fired and then bullets hitting a target filled the air "...sadly needed perhaps in this new world"

"Don't ya know it, gotta help the young'uns what with all these things about at night? Big Boss in the Sky thinks its good life skills, and young Jason over thar loves it. Cheers'em right up since his Ma died, Same with little Mia beside'em. Crack shots they are, crack shots for childer' their age. Bit a grub, some work, and they be right as rain even in these dark times ya know. Might even be cops or soldiers one ah these days"

Oswald hummed, hands resting on his umbrella and noting that named boy and girl were rather skilled for their ages and enjoying their violent competition of sorts. Orphans too, hopeless and lost, and now getting food, room and board, and likely religious brainwashing as well...and like to be good loyal little soldiers for the 'Neighbourhood Watch' in the future. He made a mental note to study the idea for his own benefit further upon his return home; orphans, and de facto orphans, were rather common after all and street kids had always been useful sources of information. For a small investment it could reap a decent return after a few years if even this oaf and his pet cop were attempting it "Indeed Thomas, a rather compassionate effort on your part I must say. Now unto business, certain fellows have expressed interest in...supplying...this fine area with merchandise"

"Don't got no problem with that. Not as long they pay the...tariff, yeah... that an' follow the rules, 'sepecially about not sellin' the kiddies. Mite fatal that can be, accidents happen ya'know ta fellas do that around here. Wee bit strange that"

"Oh, indeed, accidents happen after all..." Oswald agreed smoothly with a nod, it wouldn't much harm his margins and it could be a potential means of utilising the services of this oaf's crew to cut down on the...less socially conscious...competition "...but I can assure you these will be reputable fellows, and any proof of breaking any terms I agree by them would result in severe penalties I can assure you"

"Good, good, just what I want ta here. Saves me trouble too, Bats was sniffin' about here yeah know? Him an' his little buddy, then disappeared fer a bit. Now the Little Pretty Kitty Cat is about, think she's workin' with Him, and don't want him charging in all mad like if did happen"

"Oh, indeed? Well good that we are all law abiding citizens here is it not?" Oswald replied frowning in thought at that implied team up. His boys had seen sightings of Catwoman, but she'd been strangely quiet considering the opportunities available to her. He'd figured it was the bloodsucking vermin problem dissuading her, but if she decided playing for the Batman was a better option...

'It is so hard keep track of all the changing sides and opportunities of late' he silently grumbled deciding to seek out some extra guard dogs if that was the case. It was always a terror planning security against the Bat and his Little Bird, but adding the cat eared kleptomaniac to the mix would be very problematic. Monaghan nodded, not seeming to notice Oswald thinking on the matter.

"Oh, yeah, upstanding Gothmanites we are. Now, funny question Ozzey, you ever heard of a fancy lookin' skull called Pandora's Box?"

--

[31st January 2011]

[The Watchtower, Low Earth Orbit]

Diana found she was exhausted, the weight of the world upon her shoulders as she strode through the corridors of the Watchtower towards her room. Things were not exactly looking good right, and she had to force herself to get some sleep after J'onn rather firmly stated her effectiveness was being impaired with some rest. Considering the others were somewhat concerned by her own...position...after what her...

'Argghh...what was Hera thinking!' she raged for the thousandth time resisting the urge to slam her fist into the bulkheads of the station. Not only that, but the Gods had not responded neither hers, nor mothers, requests on what in tartarus they were doing. Her colleagues...her friends...must doubt her she knew, not with her failure to achieve anything as her Goddess's famed rage had gotten the better of her once again, while seemingly drunk, and now a war of Gods and mortals was dangerously possible. Murdering...nearly murdering if Batman was correct...one of the Justice League's charges, and Donna...

Diana shook her head, the anger subsiding and tiredness rising as it did. Donna was still shock of sorts, returning to Themyscira only causing her to go into the forests to be alone...away from Diana, and away from the shrines like they were burning her. She herself prayed that Bruce was correct that surveillance of SHIELD communications indicated young Fortune was alive, a small mercy perhaps but something, and maybe, just maybe, enough to avert violent destruction if they were to confront the Gods. Not that part of her...did not desire the capacity to punch certain ones in their divine faces after what they had done, but she had to be...

'Get a quick rest Diana, and think upon it then. Pray the rumours are correct...or don't pray perhaps' she reminded herself rapping her knuckles off her forehead as she nearly mouthed Hera's name. Again. It certainly had not help convince her fellow members of the Justice League that she was focused on the task at hand when she kept mouthing the name of the villain reverentially whenever she got stressed. Very obvious when even Clark glared at her at a foolish utterance as it seemed mortal men and women were carefully preparing armies and magic to oppose the Gods despite saying nothing in public.

She pushed the thoughts aside, activating the sliding door into her quarters and taking her tiara off with the other as it opened. Stepping into inside she gave a weary sigh as the door closed behind her. It felt so much like a defeat as she began to move to remove her armour...

Then caught sight of the shadowed figure laying on her bed, the lightning bolt markers upon his cowled head making her both sigh in exasperation and yet smile slightly "Flash, what have we said about respecting others rooms? Because I'm not playing brawling bots with you in the middle of a..."

"Fraid not Diana, the original speedster here..." the helmeted man said as the lights flicked on and the divine form of Hermes came into view causing her to stiffen at the sight. He groaned, making a 'peace' motion with both his hands out to her as he stood up "...hey, hey, I'm just the messenger! No need for punching and shouting and such"

"Why are you here? Why did the Gods not..."

"Woah, Woah, slow down Princess Wonderful. Things are bit crazy back home right now since Hera came back and Zeus...well, he's not happy. I'm sure you noticed the thunderstorms on paradise island right?"

Diana settled for a simple, cold, nod but made no move to sound the alert as yet. Seeing her silence Hermes sighed, hand going into the scroll case hanging from his shoulders "Look, Big Guy reaalllyyy doesn't want to start fighting a Lord of Order and a score of minor deities because they stopped his drunken wife from killing his mistress and another of his little by-blows. Might spread a bit if one of them minor deities Big Boss gets wind and decides he likes the idea of fighting and burning, dimensional doors and what. So..."

He handed her a scroll "...here. Buuttttt He can't lose face either, not done you know? That and Ares really wants a War, and Athena is just as bad...she really hates that guys Boss you know. Their weird when they fight, it's creepy"

Hermes shrugged as she took it from him, taking on a formal tone despite a 'mocking' pose "So, anyway...Diana of Themscirya! By the Command of the Gods You are to Discuss Peace and Accord with Certain Offended Parties And Grant Them Recompense! [but not too much!] And if they cannot be Reasoned With, to Rain the Wrath of the Gods Down Upon Them"

He sighed, going back to a more conversational tone "So, no biggie. Make peace...Hmmm...I'd suggest something skimpy to wear and dancing considering the two angry idiots in question...oh, yeah, Peace, Love, whatever you and your little mortal buddies need to do to lets the Big Guy punish Hera without looking like somebody else made him okay? Oh, and no nukes on Olympus either, I like living there! Anyway...Gotta go! Bye now!"

"..." was all Diana could say as he vanished leaving only the scroll in her hands behind. She looked at the bed, and then at the scroll...and resisted the urge to start breaking things...

--