maskormenacelogs | (open) cramming commitments like cats in a sack

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(open) cramming commitments like cats in a sack

WHO: max gibson (batwoman ii!!) and YOU
WHERE: around the city
WHEN: 3/25 - 3/31
WHAT: Max is Batwoman and also explores the City.
WARNINGS: none atm!

a. [ It's not that Max actually has anything against her job, but it's a little aggravating to spend hours at a time answering some of the most simplistic questions about computers and technology she has ever had to even think about. How do people not even know how to turn their computers off and on again?

It's horrifying.

On her breaks she can be found drinking coffee determinedly in a park near her work, looking to stay awake enough to make some money - money that she needs to put into her work on her Batwoman outfit and equipment. Generally she's checking the network as well even as she works on doing stretches to keep herself limber, or weight lifting to help build up her strength. She needs more of it to be able to make full use of her power. ]

b. [ Seriously, it isn't her fault that sometimes when she gets frustrated she shorts out all the lights in the area. And power. And all electronic equipment.

Tonight it was just some deeply frustrating conversation on the internet and she winces as everything in the house starts flickering out. Well, it sucks to be her, but she emerges into the living room to at least pretend that she is also confused about it. ]

c. [ Being Batwoman is exhilarating. She thinks she isn't supposed to think that, is supposed to take it more seriously than that, but it's hard to do that when she has her own costume (newly made and still not in great shape because she doesn't have the money to make the one she wants quite yet but still pretty cool) and she's out on the streets at night, looking for bad guys and sometimes even finding them and taking them down.

The first time someone fired a gun at her was kind of nerve wracking and it took her a couple nights to go back out, but she thinks she's doing all right. Sort of all right?

Well enough.

She's going to get better. She's going to be the best Batwoman she can be.

d. closed to kate kane. [ It's been about a week since she started patrolling, a week since she realized how many other superheroes were out here and how much more experience they had than her.

How much more experience the bad guys had than her, even. Still, she's doing her best, and tonight she's found a gang trying to push a drug deal. Two of them ran when she swung into one of them, but the other three are sticking around and she might be a little outmatched but she's giving it her all. If she can knock out one of them she'll be fine, she just has to do that.

She can totally do that. Give her about ten seconds, okay. ]

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[ It had been a nice, cool, nighttime stroll, with the heels of Knock Out's shoes clicking pleasantly against the sidewalk in a way that utterly fails to remind him of his usual Cybertronian footsteps. He'd been moving along, minding his own business, now and then peering into the cab of cars as he passes them — none to his very particular liking just yet — but then he'd gotten company.

It's just one human, and usually Knock Out would laugh at how not a threat that is. But currently Knock Out is small, fragile, and easily stabbed, and he really doesn't want to find out how first aid works for a human. So he sighs heavily at his new friend with a knife and a desperate look in his eye, and tries again: ]

For the last time, I don't have any money on me. Can't you go any bother someone else?

[ It's moments like these that she really wishes she had a catch phrase, or battle cry, or something to denote that it's her arriving. As it is, there's only the swish of the batarang that she flings from her fingertips knocking the knife out of the guys hand, her landed a few moments later between him and his would be victim. ]]

Pick on someone your own size.

[ Okay, that was really lame. She'll do better next time. Wait, is that that one guy she talked to about cars for a while? Knockout, right. It's -

shit!

Shouldn't someone give up when their knife is gone?

Give her a second to beat him up, Knockout, she has a costume and everything. ]

[ He's surprised for just a few seconds. But he's seen the movies, he knows how these superhero things go.

...Wait, really? "Pick on someone your own size?" Now, don't get him wrong, he appreciates the rescue that this apparently is, but couldn't she have used a better line? Knock Out sighs, folds his arms over his chest, and steps back to lean against a lamppost and grant this fight plenty of room. ]

Yes, there you go — get him hard, put him down for a while. [ He's helping, see? ]

[ Look, okay, even if she knows it was a terrible line. She's not even sort of the muggers' size, but nobody needs to mock her for it. She follows up her initial attack with a spin kick, ducks under a failed return blow and puts him down before leaning to snap wrist snaps around his hands and standing up to turn to -

It totally is Knockout, huh.

She smiles brightly, mostly hidden by the full face mask, gestures around them. ]

So, you okay? [ You're supposed to ask that after saving someone, right? She has to call the cops too. ]

[ He smiles, a little tickled at the idea of someone having gotten beaten up for his sake. That's nice. He likes that. ]

Oh, fine. [ He waves a hand vaguely. ] Now, according to the movies, this is when I express my gratitude and you whisk me away into the sunset. Is that right?

[ You're a weird dude, Knockout. Quite weird. ]

I don't know, I've never really been the whisking type. What, do you want to be?

[ He eyes the downed human thoughtfully, wondering idly if there will be medical attention required. Hard to tell, with humans. They're so fragile as it is. ]

Not particularly. And before you ask, I'm not very interested in the kissing that human gratitude seems to involve. Nothing personal, I'm sure you're very good at it.

[ Just this kind of choked noise of disbelief, and she bends down to check the guy's pulse, just to check. He's already starting to stir - she hadn't put quite enough momentum into it to knock him out thoroughly - but the pulse seems strong enough too. ]

None taken. The mask would make it kind of hard anyways. [ A moment as she taps a button on her wrist, opens up a call to the police. ] Let me just call this in. You're sure you're fine?

Unless I'm bleeding out and haven't noticed--and I understand that human pain receptors can't really be disabled, so that seems unlikely--I think I'm fine. [ He offers a smile. ] And who, may I ask, is my daring rescuer?"

Adrenaline can make it hard to notice sometimes, but you seem okay. [ a quick assessing glance, and then she flashes a smile. ] I'm Batwoman. And you are?

"Knock Out," he says brightly, with a little flourish of a bow. When he straightens again, it's with a curious and slightly scrutinizing study of so-called Batwoman.

"Now, if you don't mind my asking, is there anything behind the name? You don't strike me as very..." He gestures vaguely, "Related to a winged vermin. That's what bats classify as, isn't it? There are so many mammals to keep track of."

[ Someone's gotten to the bad guys first.

While normally this is irksome to Kate who's poured her time into the work, cautious not to slip up under the watchful, scrutinizing eyes of the government and military, once she's gotten a glimpse of who it is disposing of these dirt bags she's content to stand back and watch the other at work. She's ready to leap into the fray if necessary, already calculating what angle she'll take if it comes down to that.

For now, Max seems fine. Her uniform is not what it used to be, but it doesn't tell her what she wants to know. ]

[ There are other clues, with Kate looking for them. The uniform, the way the lack of experience shows through - her fighting style hasn't cemented yet, doesn't flow the way it had after over a year in the City. She hesitates a fraction of a second longer than she should.

One guy's dizzy, but he's not out. She needed him out but hopefully she can make do with dizzy. Hopefully it'll give her long enough to lay one of the other two out -

There's someone watching her. She catches the silhouette out of the corner of her, hesitates too long and takes the hit right in the face and responds with a lashing side kick, putting all of her strength behind it in an attempt to clear a little distance between them and knock the air out of the guy.

Why is someone watching her?

[ It doesn't take her long to pick up on these differences. They aren't slight changes in the least; Max moves like an amateur, not like the girl who had slowly worked her way above such a title and could handle a small gang on her own without breaking a sweat.

She has her answer and it disappoints her. Just another face in the crowd of imPorts, anything they shared lost to the universe. She wonders if it's a mixed blessing given their previous relationship, Kate not wanting to share her mantle with anyone she didn't deem competent enough.

But Max had died and it had taken that for her to realize what she should have done.

With Max at her current strength, this fight is going to take longer and there's only so many kicks and punches she can take to her body before she has adrenaline to run on. She slips out from the safety of the shadows, flipping midair and her heel connects against the jaw of one man who had been trying to sneak up on Max. ]

How rude.

[ She catches the glimpse of costume, the bat and that's enough to mean that she doesn't startle or think that she's got another enemy moving in. Her pride means she doesn't like the idea of needing this help, but even so - it's welcome. While she could have taken them out eventually (she thinks hopes believes) this will make it faster.

Two against one is a lot better, and she drops, sweeps one's feet out from beneath him and uses the momentum of her rise back up to lash out at the other. They're almost done here, now, and part of her is a little envious at how easily one other person on her side turned the tide and a little frustrated she needed the help at all, but still. ]

These guys are bad at manners. [ It's a little breathless, but she's back in control for at least right now. ]

Save your breath.

[ She can hear Max's breathing and a quick survey does reveal she's exerting herself just to ensure these guys stay down.

This is not the Max Gibson she knew. She can't be certain she's from an alternate universe, or if it's the same girl she knew back in the City, but none of that matters right now; they still have work to do.

When one of the men attempts a frontal assault, she lets out a derisive snort at how stupid he is, leaving himself open. All she does is lean back so she can lift her leg, her foot slamming hard into his chest and knocking the wind out of him. He'll have a bruised rib in no time. ]

[ there's a scowl somewhere in her heart, at that, but the other woman (Bat on her chest - other Batwoman?) is helping her and she's right. Max shouldn't be wasting breath right now, not when she's got a fist headed her way.

But with the help offered there's not much left to do - this clean up won't take too long now that she's halved the competition. Two Max can handle by herself (though she makes a note to herself to include a taser built into the suit). And she's certainly not alone right now, so she settles into the work, waits until all of them are on the ground before she speaks again. ]

Thanks. [ Simple enough, but she's not sure what else to say just yet. ]

No need.

[ Looks like the one she's taken down is still making a go for her. She cants her head to the side as if inspecting a tiny, insignificant speck or bug on the ground before she lifts her leg. One last kick to the head (with less power, she isn't out to leave him with permanent damage) than earlier and he's completely done for the night. ]

... Yet.

[ She looks around their immediate vicinity, keeping an ear out for any audible signs of movement, but silence settles in quickly. ]

Cuffs?

[ she's kneeling as kate speaks, snapping on bindings to a pair of wrists. ] Right here.

[ but yet, that's something she feels a need to ask more about, though she's not sure how to yet. so it's a moment as she works at securing the people they've knocked out before she says without looking up. ]

Yet?

Nothing.

[ It had been a joke, but she didn't need or want thanks for taking up such a simple task. Even if it had been a more complicated scenario with thugs that could put up a decent fight, she wouldn't have expected a thank you in return.

She lets Max cuff them. There's no need to take away everything from her. ]

What do you call yourself?

[ She already knows, but maybe this time it will be different.

Maybe. ]

[He's not patrolling. He's not in any kind of costume except the one everybody wears around here, something like if the 1950's had gone in more for man-made fibres. To Bucky, it might actually feel stranger than wearing Cap's colours.

He blends, though. Except for the faint glow hidden under one sleeve (and the gloved hands in weather that doesn't call for it) he passes perfectly for a native of the place. Except that it's a crazy time of night for civilians to be out, and try as he might he can't totally shake the crazy out of his blood.

He hasn't taken up the government's offer of housing, yet: spent his first night crashing in a local hotel he'll figure out how to pay before he checks out. This is his second night, and he's on the streets. Not on the rooftops, at least, then he'd really give himself away. But most people, hearing noises in a dark alley, don't walk toward the sound.]

Hey. Everything okay down here?

[Handing out a warning though, that's not his usual MO.]

[ The noise he heard was a thug going down, Max spinning to face his partner as she lifts her fists, assesses him for a weakness and how to go about this. The first guy was surprise on her side - this one's going to be a little tougher.

But her call back is as light as she can make it, trying to sound unconcerned. ]

I'm good. They're less good.

[ It's a joke! She can be funny while fighting, she totally can. ] We'll need the cops here soon, I guess.

Should I call them now?

[He emerges into sight with both hands held up, one clasping a phone, looking anxious. And at the same time he's assessing her sparring partner (amateur, but not inexperienced: blunt assault weapons, no guns), assessing her (hell, how old is she?). But he keeps all that behind a nervous smile - people do smile when they're afraid. Not him, not so much, but he's familiar with causing the effect.

Today though, he's going for looking as much as possible like nothing to be afraid of.]

Is this some kind of fight?

[If she's good - and the guy on the ground suggests she's not bad, at least - the distraction should work in her favor, not theirs.]

Feel free to.

[ She moves as he comes into view, trying to maintain herself between him and the thug, just in case. Civilians getting mixed up in things is the last thing she wants, especially when the Bat on her chest means that it's her job while wearing this costume to definitely not let people hurt other people.

The thug is watching them both, gaze flickering back and forth as if assessing, and Max makes her move at the same time as she talks, back kick first leading into a punch. ] Kind of one.

[He makes a mild show of fumbling with his phone, but it's her show he's really watching, checking how she handles herself and how much her opponent can give back.

She could use better training, no doubt. For how sharp she already is it would make the difference between good in combat and a force of nature. Could also use someone to run her up a neater outfit. But still, he's impressed.

He watches until she brings the guy to his knees, then face down on the concrete.]

Looks kinda one sided, to me.

[Hyperion is out every night. He's easily found in the darkness, on the corner of a street with dim lights and lawless people. He's found that it's rather easy to blend in with the locals when you've got something they want but never had. A new drug, one that's still being kept mostly under wraps, but dealing out well enough to provide him with what he needs. The government offered him the same - money and comfort - but what they wanted in exchange was more than what he was willing to trade.

Yet here he is, cutting up his arm and serving out blood to anyone willing to pay by the drop.

But then someone shows up and they don't want to pay. They just want what he's got, and they're ready to drain him for it.

Too bad he's ready to fight back.]

[ Drug deals are pretty basic, really. She'd seen plenty of them back home - Gotham's corners were full of people selling a quick fix. Mostly she'd avoided it. (Mostly.)

Drug deals gone bad aren't all that uncommon either, really, and they're something she feels sort of obligated to step in and try to help sort out. There is a reason she put on the costume, after all. So when she hears the sounds of a struggle start she swings down from the rooftops, runs towards it to see what can be done. ]

[There are shouts and grunts thrown around, fists swinging, a group of men ready to overwhelm Hyperion with their blunt weapons before one of them screams in agony, holding on to a wrist that's begun to bleed profusely from deep cuts. The three men are stunned at first, only to realize that Hyperion's way of fighting back involves the same blood they've drawn out of him with violence. Hyperion makes his blood levitate, then reshapes it into sharp blades that shoot at the men and cut through blindly, warding them off in a panic.

She's not too late to the scene yet, when she arrives. Hyperion doesn't seem to notice her just yet, though.]

[ What the fuck.

Seriously, that is some level of shit that she's not entirely sure she's qualified or prepared to deal with, but she put the costume on, so.

She grabs one of them and swings him into a second, doesn't watch them crash to the ground before aiming a kick at the back of someone's knee. The faster she gets everyone stopping from trying to kill each other, the better. ]

[And there we go - that's enough to get him to notice her. He stares for a moment, split second of trying to figure out whose side she's on, though it doesn't take him much longer than that to conclude that she doesn't have to be on either one. This time he uses his own fists to fight back the one man who stayed behind, knocking him flat on his back with one final headbutt.

He stands over him, wiping the blood from his nose. He looks at it for a moment, breathing adrenaline.]

[ She drops to the ground in the aftermath, on one knee beside the guy he knocked out to check his pulse and ziptie his wrists, looking up at Hyperion afterwards in wary interest. ]

That was interesting.

[he doesn't like the sight of that. she might be here for him too, despite the help.]

Should've been unnecessary.

[a beat.]

Who're you.

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(open) cramming commitments like cats in a sack

c!

yesssss

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d... obviously.

beaaaaams

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c

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