Gotham

[Crono]

Brian's fists and teeth had clenched as Tim spoke, if there was one thing he didn't like was being toyed with like he was a fool. If Tim wasn't at the age he was Brian would have hit him right then and there, not out of sheer instinctual anger but more of a purpose. The thought had crossed his mind to just slug Alphus instead, who he was less angry with being a complete stranger. In the end he settled for the outer wall of the Manor as he stepped backwards enough to have his fist pound into it's bricks, it wasn't a person but it'd do for now. And with that out of his system Brian walked towards the doorway and in turn Alphus, passing by the other man and allowing his shoulder to knock into Alphus's as he did so.


Wilfred waited near the steps, and while Brian was sure he was saying something he wasn't listening and instead simply followed. He wasn't doing this for Tim, and sure as hell wasn't doing this because Tim told him to. And once they'd arrived and Wilfred left Brian to it, he'd started to strip slowly, the trench coat came off easy enough but his under clothing took a little more effort with how they stuck to his skin. In the end he'd decided to just rip some of the clothing off since from the sound of things he'd be getting some new ones, and it was likely that Wilfred had been instructed to toss Brian's old clothes afterwards anyways. 


The worn and dirty man stepped in front of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror for a moment.  Most places he could see himself he never looked so bad, but those were usually the dingy bar bathrooms. However here in a fully lit and spotless bathroom Brian found himself uncomfortable while looking at his face, hair, and chest. A hand faintly came up to the dried cut on his cheek from the earlier scuffle. It wasn't long before he slipped into the hot shower, the water flowing off him filthy as it took the dirt and grime with it. Brian simply stood under the spray of water with his eyes closed, the shower and room steaming up more over time. Brian wasn't enjoying this and he wasn't necessarily not enjoying it, he was just in no rush to go back downstairs. He was going to take his time, Tim Drake and his salmon be damned. 


@The Regal Rper


@Sir Les Paul

 

[The Regal Rper]

A sound soon came through, loudly running rampant through the master bathroom and rapping loudly against Brian's ears. It, was a knock. A rather strong knock. Standing in the doorway, barely visible through the mist that rose from the hot water, was a maid. She cleared her voice and spoke loudly enough for Brian to hear, not waiting for a single response at her sudden if not seemingly almost random appearance. "Pardon the intrusion, sir. But yer new clothes can be found on the bed when yer done." There was a sound of a few footsteps coming dangerously close near Brian's location but in truth there was no need to threat, because they stopped just before a metal shelf not too far away from the glass barrier that separated the two. "Towels 're on the shelf. When yer done I'll lead ya down back to the dining hall. Just call when yer ready."


A few seconds later the door shut without the maid saying anything further, and soon enough Brian could hear the sound of the door that connected to his room closing shut, with a gentle click.


@Crono

 

[Loony_Bin]

Fredrick awoke slowly, beginning to comprehend the bed beneath him and the room he was in at the moment. Light poured into his room, casting shadows everywhere he cast his gaze, it took a few moments of staring ahead in a daze before Fredrick finally stood to get ready for the upcoming hours. He instinctively made his way towards the Hood, but he stopped himself, sucking his teeth as he remembered the need for him to stay out of the Hood for awhile. Fredrick leaned on his doorway, wondering what to do next with the Hood now taken away from him, his eyes drifted towards his bathroom and he shrugged, pushing off the door and making his way to the room and closing the door, locking it behind him.


He decided it was about time to allow Vance some time out.


Out of everything he did for Gotham, Vance was one of his lease favorites. It was a constant act he had to put up, and it was an act that was always a wrong step away from crumbling. It was a role that, to succeed in, he could never allow himself to ever become comfortable in. It required stepping into the shower and using different soaps and shampoos then stepping out and using an expensive deodorant he wouldn't use otherwise. It required spending a seemingly endless amount of hours in front of a mirror, applying make up to make his skin appear paler, his chin appear sharper, and cheeks appear more narrow. It required endless brushing and applying bobby pins to hide his clumps of white hair before making his usually unkempt black hair seem more tame and sleek. Put simply, it was an act, one held together by taking attention away from the appearances weaknesses and focusing on the strengths. Everything, from something as major as how he carried himself to something as minor as how he smelled needed to be different to keep any idea that he and Vance were the same in any sort of way...not that anyone was making that comparison anyways, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. 


When he stepped out of the bathroom, he wasn't Fredrick Todd at all, but rather a more confident and mellow man, one uncaring for most people, and one that was, more importantly, one of the most well known mercs in Gotham's underground. 

Freddy dressed himself in flashy clothing and went to head out the door, but stopped, turning to the briefcase containing the suit he'd stuffed in the corner. He walked over to it and picked it up, figuring he'd rather be safe than sorry, as usual. He walked further downtown until he came to an abandoned car lot that held nothing but one nicer looking car that Freddy used whenever he went out as Vance. He put the briefcase in the back and took out his phone, looking for whatever contracts he'd received, smiling at the appearance of a more minor job. A very minor wannabee crime boss who'd stepped on his current employer's territory in some fools attempt to wrestle it from him. Freddy checked his mirror and flashed his best fake smile before turning the car on and muttering one last thing to himself, "With any luck, this night'll be quick..."

 

[Crono]

Through Brian's attempt of relaxation through the steaming hot water that pelted his face and body came an exceedingly loud noise that abruptly jolted him from his trance. Followed by the voice of what he'd soon realized was Durn's maid. The man simply turned his body away from the glass as she moved closer to do whatever she was doing, with an eye-roll. Soon she was gone, "Damned insufferable woman." He'd muttered, re-positioning himself in the shower now that he was alone once again. 


Once he'd finished showering and drying off, followed by a few minutes of using the brush to try and actually get the knots out of his short but unruly hair he'd left the bathroom and paused at the bed staring at the clothes laid out for him. As he slipped them on he was grumbling, the fact that he was forced to either wear a dress shirt or just go shirtless irritated him. Though just as Tim had said they were the tailor fitting clothes specifically designed to allow his wings access while not being torn with certain movements, something he hadn't worn in quite a while. The thought that Tim had this so planned out, that he'd managed to get the clothing here didn't go unnoticed and Brian was still unsure of this whole masquerade.


Gently he'd eased open the door to the bedroom, having no such intentions as to getting the maids attention. Brian could find his way back down and to the dining hall just fine, he didn't need a babysitter or an escort. So he left the room, heading back the way he came, and down the stairs. By all accounts he'd escaped. The house smelled of cooking which caused his stomach to twist a little once again. As much as he hated to admit it he was looking forward to the food ahead. It didn't take long to find the dining hall, and when he entered he spotted Tim sitting and waiting for the food patiently while doing god knows what on an electronic device. 


Brian was wearing a light blue dress shirt with a pair of slack pants that were a little tight fitting. The look on his face was one of pure annoyance, as he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt with little regard to how the rolls looked. The shirt wasn't tucked in either, hanging loosely over the belt line. "You couldn't have left me some decent clothes? Instead of trying to dress me up to look like you two rich-boys?" The man was surprisingly clean at this point, though he'd neglected the chance to shave so his scruffy facial hair still lived on. These weren't the sorts of clothes he'd ever been the type to wear unless the occasion absolutely called for it, so that combined with the fact that he'd just been wearing dirty old clothes made him feel that much more uncomfortable and out of place. And spotting his place at the table was set near the other two Brian grabbed it and moved it down a chair or two so that he would be further away. 


"So when are you going to explain to me what this is all about? Am I going to have to wait until after eating the food that you've likely laced with poison, or before?" Not that he actually expected it to be poisoned, there were much simpler and cleaner ways to get rid of someone. This was just Brian being sarcastic. 


@Sir Les Paul


@The Regal Rper

 

[The Regal Rper]

"You wound me, Mr. Brian" came Alphus' voice as he entered the dining room himself. "I understand your reason for distrust, but I can reassure you that there is no poison in any of the food my family makes." He stated, the tone was difficult to discern. Made it hard to tell whether he had taken the comment seriously or was rather joking. Regardless while he was away Alphus had taken the time to change his own clothes from business attire, to a somewhat more casual array. Nothing big, just a Alice blue button-up shirt, forest green collar, and plain black jeans. Taking his seat at the center of the Montreal table, Alphus ran a hand over his eyes briefly before he blinked once and looked towards Brian's direction, with the faintest of smiles.


"Regardless, I'm sure whatever questions you have on your mind can wait a little, at the very least till dinner has been served." And just as he finished speaking, did Wilfred make his appearance.


"Dinner, is served." Wilfred informed and with a clap of his hands, several members of the servile staff emerged carrying trays of food, balanced perfectly on their hands. Each tray was placed with a certain sense of poise, then lifted revealing an assortment of food. Hors' d' oeuvers came first:King Crab Legs with sour cream or tangy dip. Soups and salads came second, and were soon followed by the main course for the night: meatball heaven with pasta on the side. When the meal was set and everything was appropriately arranged to allow the three men easy access to any of  the three courses set before them, Wilfred and the nine other members of his staff -one of whom might have been familiar to Brian- bowed before the nine exited leaving Wilfred at the entrance. He offered a warm smile at the three before he spoke briefly.


"Have a good night Alphus, Sir Tim, and Mr. Brian." Before he completely exited the room he made one more comment before entirely disappearing behind the corner. "Just to be sure, but Alphus, you do know Miss will not be home to-" Alphus gave a quick nod in response, only prompting Wilfred to offer another smile before he disappeared once more.

The doors to exiting the dining room, shut with a silent clang.
​

A second of silence passed before Alphus took a plate, "Let's dig in shall we? I'm sure we can address your questions afterwards." Alphus stated, and soon enough was already digging in.


@Crono @Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"No," Tim replied, specifically answering Alphus. "He wants answers, he can have them now. A curious mind ruins a good meal," Tim explained. Although the food and the enjoyment thereof likely wasn't his intention, it made for a pretty clean transition.

"Brian," Tim said, shifting his attention to the winged man while he himself was unfolding the silverware eloquently organized in front of him. While Alphus' caretakers were completely capable of arranging silverware in the utmost formal fashion, Tim preferred a simpler approach: two forks, a knife and a spoon rolled into soft, fabric towelette. In fact, his entire dining setup seemed like something from a mediocre steakhouse instead of a wealthy business owner. "I'm going to level with you," Tim said, now distinctively looking him in the eye, "Alphus here is completely green. He talks well, he thinks well, and he's seen some things, but he has no idea what the world out there is like. You do." It was a simple statement, but likely not an angle either of them had considered. Not once had it likely crossed Alphus' mind that Tim would want a real, experienced guardian for him out in the field. 

"You left the League; this isn't about the League. Alphus and his alter-ego aren't technically part of the League yet, either," Tim explained to him further, now picking up his knife and fork. He used his knife to graze over some of the green leafage used to accent his salmon before he began to dig into it. "So if you want to know why you're here, it's because I need someone who won't get themselves or him killed in the field. I took him in. I took him in like Bruce took in Dick, Jason and me. I'll do whatever it takes to keep him safe out there just like Bruce did," Tim stated with a certain cement tone to his voice. It was solid. Firm. The type of words that aren't uttered often. The type of words you don't ask to be repeated.

"You've made it on these streets despite the gangs, meta-humans, punks and even the new Jokerz," Tim told him with that same iron phrasing, "all I want is for you to make sure he does, too. I don't give a damn if you're Condor, Hawkman or the Pink Flamingo as long as you do it."


With that said, Tim made the first cut into his salmon, releasing the smell of the smoked fish into the air.


@Crono @The Regal Rper

 

[Crono]

Brian had taken his seat and let Tim give his explanation. At some point the food had been brought out by the man servants but Brian had paid the food no mind as he stared silently at Tim Drake, partially in disbelief and partially in confusion. It was like the words slowly etched into his mind with how long it took him to speak again, while the others ate and his food was currently untouched. This slowly faded into a small snort followed by chuckling as he stabbed his fork into the bin of pasta and meatballs dragging one out and taking a bite out of it, continuing to chuckle until after he'd swallowed it. "Let me get this straight." The man propped his elbows on either side of his plate, and pointed his fork at Tim. "You did all of this because want me to babysit?" Just uttering the word brought the chuckle back momentarily, as if he was in any sort of state for it or would even want to tempt such a feat. 


Brian went back to it, aiming his utensil-ed weapon at his next meaty target. "Surely there are more qualified candidates for the job." At this point he was more focused on the food, not looking up at them as he sought to fill his plate. Though at one point he'd turned his head towards Alphus, "I get that he can be a bit intimidating, especially if you spend as much time as I think with him. But you just let him talk about you like that?" Brian wasn't trying to antagonize or seek confrontation between them, he was merely curious. The man was trying to gauge Alphus's thoughts on this, as most would be against being told they needed someone to look out for them in this line of work. More especially he was wondering if Alphus knew this was Drake's plan or if he was just as in the dark as Brian had been about this whole charade. 


@The Regal Rper @Sir Les Paul

 

[The Regal Rper]

Alphus hadn't said a word from the point where Drake began speaking, to the point where Brian had made his response. The entire time he'd sat silently, eating with a sense of poise only pausing once throughout the entire conversation, to dab his lips. Done at the exact time Tim emphasized so strongly on how Brian was meant to be his guide through future missions. After that brief pause Alphus gently set his napkin down and had continued eating; his fork and knife slowly cutting away at a meatball carefully draped with multiple salad leaves- his lips remained a prim line of complete indifference as the conversation continued. When Brian had spoke in his particular direction, Alphus had continued to remain impassive by anything that had been said, but in reality he was quite flummoxed. He was thinking.


In many ways it was not the concept of having a guide or consultant that bothered Alphus, it was the reason as to why he needed one in the first place. Dick Grayson, had been someone Tim had spoken little of and when he did it was always in some form of anecdote. Alphus had never met Dick Grayson. Actually when Alphus thought about it, he hadn't met much of any members of the Bat family save for Tim's daughter Rebecca whom he'd met only a few times, during his training. The only thing he knew about the former and deceased defender of Bludhaven's streets, was the information he himself had learnt during his research as a child-- that Dick was a great man who did his best no matter how bad things got. Remaining aplomb and steadfast even in the worst and toughest of situations. It would have been an honor to meet him. Sadly, that never happened.


And it was because of this stranger yet hero, that Alphus wasn't particularly surprised too much by Tim wanting him to be protected when he was outside of his range. His field of protection, where Tim could reach him and get him help if he needed it. But that didn't change the fact, that there was still the question as to why.


A minute had passed since Brian had asked him that question. A minute where Alphus had silently ignored it and continued to eat his food as he pondered why Tim was going to such an extent to ask a former league member to be his guide. The way alone he had proposed the whole thing it felt...so disparaging. As far as Alphus had known, Tim had called Brian here for some reason, that reason however was one that escaped him. But now that he knew what the real purpose was he had to know: "Why?" Alphus asked, silently. It would've been hard to miss, due to how steady his tone was but it was clear in Alphus' voice. He was very confused and very disturbed.


To Alphus there was no need for having someone be his guide. He had trained for years, both body and mind for all those challenges he had and would go on to face along the streets of not just Gotham but Star City, Metropolis, Dakota etc. All those times he'd spent practicing in private, all the tests he had asked his sister to run when he was sure Tim wasn't aware of what he was doing, had proven to him that death, wouldn't be easy for him to attain. Especially with his particular fighting style. So Alphus bluntly asked the question again, rephrasing it this time.


"Sir Tim...I don't understand... Why do I need a guide? Do you-- Do you feel I'm...not prepared?" He asked although despite the perplexity in his voice, Alphus never once looked up as he continued to cut away at another meatball. It's sent wafting through the air with all the others.


@Crono @Sir Les Paul

 

[Sopranos]

Name: Benjamin Pearson
​

Place: Gotham - The Iceberg Lounge
​

---------
​

The Iceberg Lounge has been one of those special place in Gotham for so many years and after all those years, it's still as flashy. The original owner of the place before the Alcatraz war was Penguin, back then it's one of hottest spot in Gotham, known not only for it's five starts restaurant, the large pool, the flashy dance floor or the jazz band. No, it's known to be the heaven of all crime in Gotham. It's where, if you're lucky, you can get to see many of the high-profile criminal figures, but just careful with the eyes contact. It's unknown to Benjamin that who's running it now, but that not yet his concern. He's here for something else, an important piece of information that he need. They set a meeting here. Benjamin himself had no problem, he wasn't afraid of anything can be set up to trap him. Benny sat near the a far table near the corner, with his drinks at hand while watching the dancers, the view wasn't so bad. Then he returned his attention to the informant, the man name was Mike Turner, a retired cop in the GCPD. Luke's an old man then, he didn't have much to offer for the law enforcement in Gotham anymore. But on the other hand, he understood Gotham underworld. 


"- So... what do you know about it ?" - Benjamin asked after took a sip of his whiskey.


"- Listen kid, I don't know who's involved in the murder, it's classified " - The man answered.


"- Alright, alright... I'm listening. Just tell me what we've discussed."


"- Well, we all know that Jimmy hasn't been old man Maroni's favorite partner. In fact, things were a lots simpler before Jimmy's time, construction business was easier to control. But then Jimmy came, it's become more difficult for the old man. Ever since Jimmy always stood in the old man's way whenever he tried to take control of the construction business. The boss doesn't like Jimmy at all, but he didn't whack him before because he feared that would brought the attention to his family. Poor him, a straight, good man, just in a bad time."


"- So the Maroni's crime family can't be the only one...No... There must be someone else..." - Benny said at a low voice.


"- You guessed right... From what I can get my hand to, old man Maroni reached to someone else to take out Jimmy Pearson. But in the end, as you recall, the hit is failed, James only lost his arm." - Mike replied.


"- Is there anything you can tell ?"


"- Well... There are a few suspects you can guess, the assassin that took the attempt was professional, he left no trace behind, it could be..."


"- Deadshot... or Deathstroke, or even Redhood." - Benjamin intercepted Mike.


"- You head in the right direction... But it won't be easy, ever since the Alcatraz thing."


Benjamin stopped for a while, he started to think about who took the contract to his father's head. If he wanted the true, he'd only get it from the Maroni's boss himself and he needed to do this quick before another attempt to be make for his father or any other members in the Pearson family. No, he wanted to take this case all the way, for the safety of his family. Sooner or later another attempt will be make for sure, the Maroni's mafia would never let a failed attempt like that get away, it's a loose end and they will try again. Far as he concerned, everyone who had anything to do with this attempt, both the Maroni's mafia and the assassin would need to be dealt with completely. As he looked at Mike, seem like there's not much from him for Benjamin. 


"- Here's what you're asking for, the investigation file of the James Pearson murder attempt case." - Mike said as he and Benjamin exchanged a suitcase.


As Benjamin stood up and about to leave, Mike raised his voice for the last time.


"- These are dark time, kid. What are you going to do ?"


"- I just care for Mr.Pearson's safety... and later Gotham's."


As Benjamin said, he walked away slowly from the table. There're many things to be done, Maroni's mafia, assassin, they're just the beginning. 

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"No," Tim responded. It was the first word to come out of his mouth. It was stone cold. It was an absolute. It was powerful. It rang through the air as an answer to the question Alphus asked which itself was an answer to the inquiry Brian made.

Tim set down his knife and fork, then looked directly at Alphus. "No one is ever prepared," he added. His words were raw. A slightly different tone than he had prior. An entirely different atmosphere. Tim let his eyes stray off before he just looked down. It was apparent to both of them that he wasn't in the moment with them. But, in a thousand others of his past. "I wasn't... I wasn't prepared for the first time I saw someone actually die while I was Robin. I wasn't prepared the first time I couldn't save someone. And, I don't mean in some big explosion, I mean that one person you go out of your way to save thinking you'll make a difference. Even a small one. I remember Bruce telling me it never gets easier; he was right," Tim explained, his old voice almost showing a hint of real emotion as it crackled. "It's more than that, though. Nothing can prepare you for what a man with power will do... or the types of monsters bad men can become... or the atrocities good men can do. Neither of you ever met the Joker... but pray to God you never see a being like him again," Tim said, standing up now. He slid his hand into his pocket then started to walk nonchalantly to Alphus.

Meanwhile, his eyes fell on Brian. "Tell me... were you prepared? On Alcatraz. Were you prepared, Brian? When the explosion knocked you out the air and your feathers were just cinders?" Tim said. "Were you prepared when you saw all those guards burning and you could do nothing about it?" he asked, continuing his line of questions. By this time, he had gotten near Alphus and he slipped his left hand onto his shoulder.

"I know you weren't. You couldn't be. But, there may come a day to trump all of that..." Tim said, now more openly talking to both of them. "The day I lost everything. Her name was Stephanie Brown. She was a Robin, too. Daughter of some petty criminal trying to foil him... called herself Spoiler then. Silly, wasn't it?" Despite the darkness of his story, Tim somehow let out a little chuckle. A light laugh at the idea of calling her Spoiler. "She stayed with me even when every doctor told us we couldn't have children... she never gave up even when we every pregnancy failed using intrauterine techniques with repaired DNA. Technology then couldn't fix what the Joker did to me. It was... years before someone could make Rebecca. Years too late. Steph' fell in the line of duty just like Dick did. It wasn't some big explosion or a big mission. Just some punk with a .45 lifted from a pawn shop."

"I wasn't ready to lose her, but it's what happens when you don a cowl," Tim said.

He then firmly grasped Alphus' shoulder. In just a moment, powerful currents of electricity coursed through him. Not enough to be lethal, but enough to hurt. Enough to cause spasms. Enough to bring him down despite being in the middle of a meal. Worst part? Tim had just slipped on a glove just for Alphus. It caused molecular stabilization. It was designed originally to treat Alphus in case he never fully developed his powers, but it was never needed. Tim dug it out of storage to demonstrate this point. That even Alphus wasn't invulnerable.

"There are a lot of things you can't be prepared for," Tim reiterated as he kept his eyes on Brian, "but you've seen enough that you can keep him safe. You've stared into the abyss." Tim then let go of Alphus.

"You can let what you saw drag you down forever... or you can help the next generation do better," Tim told Brian, his words almost an ultimatum.


@Crono @The Regal Rper

 

[The Regal Rper]

It'd been a long time since Alphus had heard that  particular voice. That particular tone. It reminded him of way back when. During his training moments, during those earlier times when he was just so angry. So confused and conflicted. So disgusted with everything that at times he'd be so consumed till Tim began talking like that. Even if all those darker moments were behind him, there was no way he'd ever forget that stern tone. Not in a million years.


The moment Alphus heard Tim's reply, the way he'd said it, he immediately dropped his utensils out of surprise. Both him and Tim locked eyes at that moment. Tim's green locked with his orchid. He wasn't expecting that kind of response. But then again, reasoning and assumption had blinded him, if no longer. After that response, Alphus regained his composure and just silently listened. He sat up straight, his spine erect, his hands pushing the plate away as he kept his eyes on his mentor. Watching Tim the entire time, listening to everything he was saying. Because it was important. Moments like these were rare, they never happened. Rarely, happened.


Both hands folded over each other on top of Alphus' crossed leg, resting just on his lap. The short enumeration of questions towards Brian were meant to prove a point. Not just to the former League member but to himself as well, he noted. Alphus just continued to listen obediently. Hearing of Spoiler was new, but then again Tim was right. Donning a cowl meant so much more-- being a hero meant so much more. Yet again, he was learning something else knew about his mentor. Again, Tim was still teaching him even now. Seemed like he was learning a lot today.


What he hadn't expected to learn today however, was that there was a glove prepared meant just for him. The feeling of static going through his entire body was horrible. And what was worse, Alphus had never expected it. His mentor knew him so well, yet Alphus still seemed to be in the dark about a lot of things. Spoiler, Rebecca, and now this.


It wasn't too difficult to repress the feeling to get up and move away from the pain, judging from the voltage though Alphus was sure he couldn't move away even if he wanted to- even if his ability to dull pain had been on he knew. He knew what that pressure on his shoulder meant. It was a lesson. Tim was showing him something through this pain. For one thing, he wasn't as invincible as he believed. He'd been through this once or twice with his sister but she'd never gone to this extent out of his safety and concern. The wall of insensibility faded and Alphus grimaced as he felt his body slowly veering away off the chair, until he found himself on the ground. Stunned, finding it difficult to move for a few seconds; four at best. Long after Tim had let him go.


The entire sensation hit him the moment he was fully on the ground, his grimace stayed but it wasn't expressing anger or rage. It expressed understanding. Regardless of the sensation that was slowly dulling thanks to his own senses kicking in to alleviate the pain, Alphus continued to listen to what Tim had to say and only tried to move after his mentor finished speaking.


@Crono @Sir Les Paul

 

[Crono]

Tim's initial answer made Brian pause in his endeavor of filling his stomach, looking up at the elderly man as Tim continued to speak. The conversation of death, losing someone you'd meant to save, and finally of the Joker. Brian sat with a solemn look, his own mind reaching back to the days when he'd been a member of the league only to be brought back suddenly when he realized Tim Drake's eyes were on him, "Nobody was really prepared for Alcatraz." He'd replied in nearly a whisper. 


Brian tried to forget that day since it'd happened, or rather he'd tried to keep it out of his mind as much as possible. Not that it was easy for a drunk to keep his mind clear enough for that, so it didn't really work though most drunken nights were forgotten. Now though? Brian was lucid, and just thinking about Alcatraz brought back the awful burning smell, a smell that didn't really exist. The smell was constant throughout Tim's talk of a wife Brian knew nothing about, the daughter Rebecca he knew of but had never met. The man simply held Tim's gaze as he stood behind Alphus, and it wasn't until the hairs on his arm raised and he saw Alphus stiff as stone in his seat hat he realized what was going on.


Brian understood that Tim would never truly hurt Alphus, that this was to prove a point, a demonstration even. The man watched as Alphus slowly dropped out of the chair, and Brian's fist tightened around the fork in his hand. The sharp eyes leaving Tim for just a moment to gain a look at the glove before returning, he was tense. Just the thought of the sensation was enough to cause his body to slowly go from relaxed to tense over the course of thirty seconds. While he assumed the older man had made his point and even though he was out of reach, if Tim moved that gloved hand in his direction Brian would retreat out of instinct. "And what if you're wrong...."


Tim's final words bothered Brian, like an itch at the back of his skull that was out of reach. Brian never sought to do anything but seclusion and silence the last few years, to drift about of his own volition. And here stood Tim, a man Brian once respected, and still did even though he wouldn't admit to it right now. He stood with confidence, in himself, in his protege, and even Brian himself. And in that moment Brian's gaze faltered, unable to continue looking Tim in the eye. "Thing is, I looked into the abyss and I welcomed it's embrace. What makes you think after all these years I want to come back out?" Tim didn't have to answer really, the mans eyes had said it all. Brian simply grabbed at the wine glass that was full and gulped it down, nowhere near enough to make him forget today was happening still.


Momentarily his eyes flicked to a nearby window, he meant to use it to escape. Instead he paused in his seat, the realization that here and now he was at a crossroad. Continue living the same way he had for the last three years or do something different. "You know nobody is truly safe in this line of work." The words broke his silence, understanding that Tim was asking Brian to do something that meant a lot to the older man. Tim Drake was reaching out and asking someone to do something he'd do himself, but isn't capable anymore. Maybe that simple emotional state was the reason Brian hadn't just left already, that at one point he'd done whatever he could to help people and after all this time here was someone asking for his help...and needed it. 


"No promises. We can give it a trial basis," Brian pointed his left hand at the glove while the right stabbed the fork into the table, "and if you ever come near me with that thing I will stab you in the fucking eye with a fork." It wasn't a threat and it wasn't humor, it was an in-between because he was serious even if he likely would never do such a thing. If nothing else he'd get free food out of this arrangement. 


@The Regal Rper @Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Tim was sure Alphus would be out of it from the gauntlet. Even if he tried to phase away from the touch, it would prove impossible. Molecular stabilization was possible on a small scale. Phasing technology had been out long enough that soldiers were trained to use it. Hell, even Waller knew how to fight with and against phasing technology. It was almost no surprise someone found a way to forcibly reverse the process and even less of a surprise it came from arguably the sharpest mind the Bat family had produced since Bruce himself. All of that held little weight to the fact Alphus was sprawled on the ground likely just now regaining his composure. This made Brian the focus of all of Tim's attention, which itself only added to the tension of the situation.

Brian probably hated it, but Tim could read him like an open book. Tim could see the disgust in his eyes when he reflected back on that day.

Tim could see how his story about Stephanie hardly held up to the day Brian fell from grace. Tim could see how his anecdote was nothing to Alcatraz.

Tim could even see how Brian had to hold himself back when he shocked Alphus. The man still had some ingrained desire to protect.


"This gauntlet is not for you. Alphus is a synthetic meta-human. He is no clone, either. In fact, he is one of the last secrets we have on Waller. His family was capable of successfully turning humans into meta-humans, and not like the catastrophe in Dakota. You may not know about the Big Bang; it was still before your time. The point is, even when we knew it was possible to activate meta-human genes, it was impossible to cultivate them. The gene had to be present; we couldn't reliably mutate them. Alphus and the research behind him changed that. In his reports, you may notice that I wrote in he was a meta-human from birth. That is the official report for Waller. Nevertheless, the point is, Alphus can destabalize his molecular structure and can potentially do so to others. The extent of his ability is unknown, but as of now, he is limited to phasing. Normally, that electric pulse would never have reached him... but with this, it will. If we can make this, so can our enemies. Even the ability to turn intangible doesn't mean he is indestructible. I wanted both of you, but mostly him, to see that," Tim explained. He rambled on slightly, but the facts he spout off were enough to reinforce the fact this was a behind-the-League endeavor and that Brian wouldn't be under the thumb of Waller. Moreover, it gave him pertinent information about his new apprentice.


Tim then slipped his hand back in his pocket and walked back to his seat, slipping it back out again before resuming his meal. "As for you, Brian... I appreciate that you will at least try," Tim said as he picked up his utensils. "There is one man I know that never really left that abyss, either. Even after the Joker died, part of him was tainted forever. Only Clark really knew... but he blamed himself for every life that madman took because he was allowed to live. ...That's not really why he stayed in the darkness for so long; he did it so that none of us would have to endure it. Only great men can shoulder that burden, Brian. But, it is the greatest of them that do so and continue on."


@Crono @The Regal Rper

 

[The Regal Rper]

Alphus listened silently as he lay on the ground, tense muscles no longer feeling slightly strained or even sore. He just lied on the ground because he knew this conversation between the two was important and he had no real say in what transpired between Tim and Brian. This was their talk, not his.


The statement however had been made clear to him now, though. It was just as well. Perhaps he'd allowed some form of pride to slither into his mind when he came up with the concept that he could not be harmed, secretly Alphus cursed himself for even thinking of such a thought. Superman, one out of many had shown time and time again on altercations of the past that not even he was indestructible, at least when the right components were put together. The former notion that he was invincible had now been shattered and while it still seemed jarring, no pun intended, Alphus understood the point his mentor was making. There was a lot said that he didn't fully understand only able to come to terms with if slightly in regards to the silent exchange that went on as his two seniors shared silent looks. But there was also a lot that he'd come to understand through this. Probably the most crucial was Brian had accepted him under his wing. To which Alphus, though he didn't show it when his eyes flicked over to the former league member by expression, was grateful.


Sitting up, Alphus slowly rose as Tim once again took the mantle and began speaking. Speaking about him. Though whatever was said, was only tuned in on now and again as he retook his seat and rolled both shoulders to relieve the stiffness that filled them. A few seconds went by and Alphus too took up his utensils and focused his own attention on his meal, just as Tim was finishing up.


Molecular stabilization... Alphus thought as he took up the meatball he'd been working on previously. Sir Tim was right, he'd need to keep a far more open-mind if he was meant to go out on the fields. And as Alphus glanced over at Brian now that his mentor had finished speaking, the younger man felt confident that his mentor had chosen the right person to be his guardian. The two could polish each other in the long run Alphus thought, rolling his meatball in a wrap of salad and only preparing to take a bite as a thought hit him that demanded he verbally say.


"I look forward to working with you, Mr. Brian" Alphus politely informed before taking his bite and adding a genuine smile.


@Sir Les Paul @Crono

 

[Bone2pick]

Brian, a rookie security guard employed at Empire Bank, never saw the swing coming.  He couldn't make sense of the overwhelming pain that just detonated across his groin.  All he could do was topple forward, moan like a banshee, and clutch his genitals.    


Before the assault Brian's attacker had moseyed along a row of darkened teller stations. With each haunting step closer towards his victim his spectral cane twirled faster inside his corpse-cold grip; months of practice had made the villain deftly proficient with the weapon.  The dim overnight lighting of the bank passed straight through his form.  He didn't even cast a shadow when he wound into his golf swing.    


The other guard on duty, a retired Gotham beat cop, hurried to help his crumpled coworker.  But he too hit the carpet after an imperceptible cane hooked his ankle.  A follow up strike to the back of his balding crown zapped every ounce of fight out of the old boy.  That's the moment when Gentleman Ghost shifted into visibility. 
 
He disarmed his downed victims and then secured them with a roll of duct tape from his overcoat.  Then, after snatching the bank keys, he danced across the lobby and over to the entrance.  He knew exactly which key was required because he'd stalked the branch (invisibly) for over a week.  As soon as the doors were thrown open his crew, outfitted in fine suits and eerie phantom masks, stormed in.  


Besides his phantoms two hostages were escorted at gunpoint into the building: the branch manager and the security supervisor.  They were captured earlier in the evening because their fingerprints were needed to access the main vault.  Like a well drilled team the phantoms hurried the hostages in front of the vault's identification locks.  The manager and the security supervisor, both completely drained and horrified, complied and unlocked the vault.


An unearthly cackle oozed off the lips of the mastermind behind the crime.  Everything had gone according to plan: the kidnapping, the sabotage of the surveillance cameras right before the guard ambush, and the obedience of the hostages.  The ghost shambled over to the sweat soaked manager while his crew filled suitcases with bricks of cash.


"When the police speak with you in the morning, I'll be near.  Out of sight, but seeing... A wraith breathing down your neck making your hair stand on end."   


To hear his voice was to hear a nightmare.  The fat manager wimpered under the ghost's monocled gaze.


"I won't say anything.  I swear to God I won't!"


The villain shook his ghoulish face and snarled.


"You'll tell them everything or you'll regret it! Inform the police a ghost has come back to Gotham to settle an old score."


The manager's head bobbled in agreement.  His tormentor turned to walk away but then whirled back towards his hostage and hooked his cane behind the man's thick neck. The manager flinched and yelped when the spectral weapon fell on his clammy flesh.


"One more thing... Tell them I'm just getting started."


[[OOC: Gotham's Empire Bank robbed of 1.3 million dollars]]

 

[Crono]

While Alphus picked himself back up and Tim spoke on Alphus's past a little and more specifically the younger mans abilities Brian had eased back into eating, "That's certainly a useful ability." He'd commented with mouth not completely void of food, then continued to gorge. The man more quiet than before, slowly realizing what he'd just signed onto as Tim spoke of Bruce and the Joker. "So you're keeping his story quiet from Waller then what else are you hiding from him? Am I going to be another of your dirty little secrets too?"


Alphus was a quiet one, throughout this whole ordeal he had kept silent for the most part. While he surely had the utmost respect for Tim which was why he didn't try to backtalk or get angry about the glove, it was just a little unsettling. Considering just how much he'd spoken to get Brian here in the first place, without even knowing the real reason. This meant he was loyal and likely followed orders, that or Tim had deceived him and he was gullible. "If you and me are going to be working together you're going to have to cut it with the Mr. Brian stuff." He said with a look from Alphus to Tim and back again, "I get that you want me around but there's always more to it than that, so what exactly do you two expect of me?" The man almost sounded bored asking it, but he felt he had to so he did.


Brian exhaled a deep breath, "Let's get something stronger than wine out here. If there is one thing people like you two have, it's the expensive alcohol. Buried away somewhere safe no doubt." A smug smirk crossed his face as he leaned back in his chair to a relaxed position, one arm lain on the backboard of his chair.


@The Regal Rper @Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"I don't drink," Tim replied as he ran one of his final pieces of salmon through the succulent juices that the smoked fist excreted when it was initially cut into. "But, if Alphus would like to show you his fine collection of liquor, then that would be his wasted family money," Tim added. While his words were pointed, his tone made the entire ordeal seem nonchalant. In his age, Tim had become more blunt. In his younger years, there wasn't a Robin that had more wit than him. He could dance around facts, deceive and manipulate with the best of them. Tim Drake was an underrated and often undervalued asset to a team. Even his stint as Red Robin saw didn't merit him the fame Nightwing achieved. Even as Redwing, he was only really famous for being a duo with Damian. And, now, what did the man have? The title of the oldest, living member of the Bat family. He had no reason to use the finesse of his youth.


"As for what I expect... the basics," Tim told him after biting into one of his last pieces of delicate fish. "Routine patrols, round up some thugs, the usual. You know how boring and monotonous our job can be. Alphus has patience, though. Probably more than you. What I would like you to teach him is how to... approach those situations that aren't routine. How, when or even if to interact with people like the Jokerz... Terry also has plenty of people of interest to look into. Appearances of the Gentlemen Ghost, a new swordsman in town... and then of course Poison Ivy. She's technically rehabilitated, but she's just better at covering her tracks," Tim explained. He looked at Brian directly, but plainly. A boredom almost in his own eyes, "Plenty of places to start on Gotham... and the work doesn't end." Tim then shot a dry smirk before plopping the last piece of his salmon in his mouth.


@The Regal Rper @Crono

 

[The Regal Rper]

"I would prefer not. Haven't been to the cellar in years" Alphus stated as he laid his utensils on his empty plate. He took a few seconds to dab his lips clean  of the light signs of sauce that had decorated them earlier before continuing in a solemn tone. "And honestly, I would prefer not to start now." He stated, quite frankly to be exact. The way he had said it may have been calm but underlying tones could certainly be heard if one listened well enough. About to make another response, Alphus instead held his tongue when he noticed his mentor was going to speak once more. He listened silently, one hand taking hold of a glass of water the other gently sliding his plate a few inches away.


Once Tim had finished speaking though Alphus waited a few seconds. Busying himself with his drink of water as his eyes glanced from side to side to make sure neither would speak again before he took the chance. Once he was done with his refresher, and a few more seconds had passed he spoke to Brian as he placed his glass beside his plate."If you'd like, I could of course ask Wilfred or any of my other close friends and family here to escort you to the cellar. I'm sure none would mind, after all no one's had a drink from there in years." Rising and taking his plate and any other empty bowls or dishes nearby, Alphus placed three bowls on top of one another then placed those on a larger serving tray. When he was done with his section he moved over to Tim and did the same thing he'd done where he had once been, leaving anything his mentor hadn't finished and placing those on the tray as well. Constantly arranging things out in a manner that when he finally finished he had a total of eight plates, six bowls and a tray to carry. With dainty steps Alphus moved towards Brian's seating and then slowly raised a brow asking two questions, one of which was verbally spoken.


"Would you like to go to my father's cellar?" he bluntly asked. Whether he was aware of how awkward this may have sounded or not, Alphus showed no concern for his remark whatsoever. When there was no response he continued, "If so let me know now. I'll ask someone to see you there once you and Sir Tim are done here. I'll be in the kitchen with the others, can't leave them to do all of this now can I?" The last statement made more to himself than anyone else. So, Alphus stood there with one raised brow and waited for Brian's response.


@Sir Les Paul @Crono

 

[Loony_Bin]

When Fredrick woke up in the morning, he did so slower than usual. The past three days had been...not draining, Freddy had been drained, and it defiantly wasn't what he was feeling currently. It felt more like it was annoying, irritating, a burden. Between his stints as 'Vance' and being unable to go out in the Hood making him have to restart on the streets, nobody was afraid of him, most everyone stayed their ground, not even remotely afraid of the no name in front of them. It had it's advantages, but more than anything it made him feel trapped in a way. It made three days feel like three months...


Freddy got up, moving towards his kitchen to get ready for the oncoming night...


@Sir Les Paul (Hope this is good enough, let me know if I should change anything here)

 

[Sir Les Paul]

Marcel was buttering toast. The scrapes of the stainless steel utensil dragging the low-quality, hydrogenated substance across the bottom-shelf, Better Brand bread were an annoying ring in the air. Especially considering the would-be butter didn't melt easily in turn forcing Marcel to handily press the butter knife into his toast without pressing through it. If only someone invested in some food slightly better for him...


Although, what could he expect? It was Freddy's kitchen, after all. Stealing his butter and bread to make morning toast. Honestly, he shouldn't have been condemning the free food, but really, Freddy needed to take better care of himself. Food like this is how one ended up with high cholesterol. 


Granted Freddy could hear the annoying scraping of a butter knife on toast before he even reached his kitchen, it wasn't likely that his HDL's and LDL's were on his mind.


@LokiofSP (This is more of my casual posting level. Should be good to get the ball rolling.) @ChazGhost (Drake can either be off doing his own thing or hiding in the shadows. Your call. Unfortunately, he's a whole city away from his redhead friend, though.)

 

[ChazGhost]

"Gotham, the big leagues of crimes. If you can make here ypu defintly can make it any were. Right my friend?" Drake said turning to a man next him who just tried to pick pocket him. He was outcooled and Drake took his wallet. "So Noone is out recruiting... What fun should I have while he's away. There some much for me to do..." Drake said to himself as he began walking away from the outcooled mugger when he heard a scream coming from a nearby alley. "Well that answers that." Drake said before heading into the alley he heard a scream from.


There was business man on the ground surround by a coulpe thugs kicking and demanding him to pay up for some reason. " You lost the bet you have to pay" one of the thugs said.


"Ya your horse loss the race so cough up the money you..." Other said before Drake's shadow appeared under him and turned into a boxing glove that launched into his jaw knocking him out. "What the hell!" another said as Drake shadow then went under him and put a spike through his foot. He screamed and grabbed his now bleeding foot. The final thug turned to Drake and pulled out his gun to shoot. But as he was about to Drake went into his shadow and appeared behind him.


"So how about we make deal. You take your uncooled goon and bleeding moron and leave. You forget the det this guy owes. And I won't beat the hell out of you" Drake said looking at the man as shadow started circle around him. The thug looked scared as picked up the outcooled thug and ran. The one with a hole in his foot hopped out of alley after him.


"Thank you thank you! You saved..." the suit man said before Drake flicked his head.


"Don't you know not to gamble on horse. Try slots man. And avoid deal with guys like them, they like to rig races" Drake said before walking off and started looking for some more fun elsenwere.

 

[Loony_Bin]

Fredrick paused as soon as he heard the loud and obnoxious scrape of a knife being dragged across toast and paused, pressing up against his doorway. He peeked around the corner as best he could, catching a breif glimpse of a man with black hair in his kitchen seemingly making toast...it was defiantly the weirdest break in he'd seen. He moved as silently as he could back towards his bed, opening his bottom drawer and  digging out his handgun he'd buried under piles of smaller books. He then stepped back towards the doorway, took a breath, and came out from the corner.


He stepped out from the doorway, pointing the gun at the man in his kitchen, "Who the fuck are you, why are you in my house, and who sent you? I want all of that info in the next five seconds or I drop you."


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

"Alrightie then," Marcel replied. He was calm. Oddly calm. Of course, if Freddy were to have fired, he could have phased through the bullet, so he was in no real danger. As always, Marcel had taken the form of another. Just some random passerby on the Gotham street. He never showed his actual appearance to anyone. Nonetheless, it must have been nerve-wracking to have a random intruder in your house making toast and surprisingly calm when a gun is aimed at him.

"They call me NoOne. I'm sure you've heard more ridiculous names," Marcel answered him. He looked at his toast and paused, realizing Freddy would likely want the rest of his questions answered before he took a bite. "Oh, and about why I'm here. Mostly because I know this place isn't bugged, but a tad bit of it is dramatic effect - to be honest. Anyway, if you've watched the news recently, you should know who I am. Shadows of Bludhaven, right? Well, we relocated to Gotham, and we're looking to expand - you being that expansion," Marcel explained in a quick, relatively succinct manner. "Yeah, no one sent me, either. I came here just for you, Mr. Todd," Marcel said, answering Freddy's last question.


He then bit into his toast. By this time, that hydrogenated butter had finally melted down.


@LokiofSP

 

[Loony_Bin]

Freddy was confused by the man's calm presence and how alright and casual he seemed about the situation. Truth be told, told, he hadn't heard all that much about the Shadows of Bludhaven. What he'd heard had impressed him, but he had been so caught up in his own problems that he hadn't paid all that much attention to others. It was at the end of NoOne's proposition that he paused,breifly considering it. But he shook his head, putting his gun back to level with NoOne's chest, "Why would you want me to help you? You guys took down a major part of crime in a major city, and you want me to help you? Me? All I do is bag groceries at the market down the street. I see what this is, who hired you? Was it Tony? Tony's a guy who'd pull some shitty joke like this..."


@Sir Les Paul

 

[Sir Les Paul]

NoOne finished chewing his bite of toast while Freddy replied. Even had a moment to take another. The crunching was mildly annoying - even to himself - and the extended wait for him to finish his second bite after was likely even more so. Admittedly, it was likely because the bottom-shelf bread was horrendously dry and make for nearly-burnt toast even on the lowest setting. Someone needed to have a culinary intervention with Freddy.


"No one hired me," NoOne replied, "but you are right: Tony's a dick. That has nothing to do with this situation or your shitty toast." Marcel then sat the toast down on the plate alongside his butter knife before looking up to Freddy with full concentration. "You're the Red Hood, Freddy. Maybe not with that new black mask, but that's because of that fiasco in the papers a few days ago. It doesn't fool me. It doesn't fool anyone with half a brain. You were coerced into it," Marcel went on to explain. He didn't stand up. Freddy still seemed tense. Staying right where he was would be the best course of action for now. "You and I aren't really that much different, Freddy. Someone took something... someone... important to us. We fight the bad guys and clean the streets to make up for it. And, while I have plenty of fancy tricks, the thing that makes me even remotely dangerous is knowledge. The ability of deduction. I know that you're the Red Hood. That punk Vance. That black mask. But, you have an ability even greater than that. Fear. Except for the most insane or the most stupid, everyone on the streets feared the Red Hood. You did that. You did that even better than I did in Bludhaven," Marcel explained.


"If I want to change Gotham for the better... if I want to make sure those god-damn Bats stop trying to run this city like its theirs... I need you, Freddy," Marcel explained to him in most-likely one of the most motivating messages he had received in a while. 


@LokiofSP