2017-05-15 - Drama at the Disco

It's a fundraiser night. A charity ball is being held to try and save one of the last Discos that is still operational in Gotham. The crowd is out and about in Leisure Suits, and the spiral ball is up above the ceiling as 'Saturday Night Fever' plays and people dance like they're John Travolta.

At least one girl is here who probably shouldn't be. Not even a Gothamite, but the sounds of the party have her staying. The girl in the brown skirt and matching blouse is staying by the door, her brown hair helping her blend in with the background. Not because she wants to; more because she's crying.

Watching the guy she came with dance the night away with two other girls, Mia wonders how long it'll be before she's a superhero like her adopted cousin. SHE never seems to get hurt by anyone. "Why am I even here," she asks, rhetorically. She doubts anyone's listening anyway.

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy extradorinaire, has made a show of attending the fundraiser. He, of course, arrives in style, in a long black limo driven by an elderly, yet distinguished man that is always by his side.

As Wayne scion exits the limo, the flashes start. He's a photogenic guy, after all, with his clean cut look, his chiseled features and sparkling blue eyes. None of the boyish charm he has always had has faded as he's aged. If anything, it's lent him a more sophisticated yet rogueish quality. Not to mention the man's build. Surely, he must work out six hours a day. One can afford to do nothing but spend time in the gym when they have his money, though. Tonight, that perfect, hulking physique is packaged in a vintage suit. White, with a black shirt and white tie. White, wing tipped shoes glisten in the light, polished to a mirror sheen. The butterfly collar has been left unbuttoned, the tie slack, just enough to show off a gold chain worn underneath and a hint of masculine hair lining the top of his chest. He looks like he's stepped right out of Staying Alive.

"Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne! What brings you to this event tonight? You save third world countries and rebuild the city. You'd think that one lonely disco would... frankly... escape your notice."

Bruce's blue eyes turn to the reporter. His smile is dazzling, all glistening white teeth, dimples, and sparkling eyes. "Well, Mr...?"

"Knox. Alexander Knox of the Gotham Globe."

"Mr. Knox... This disco holds a special place in the hearts of the Waynes. My mother and father used to go dancing here when I was a child. It's a part of my childhood, so I'm going to do my part to make sure that future lovers can share their experiences here for years to come."

With that, Bruce Wayne waves off any other questions and muscles his way in through the doors.

And then sashaying over towards the figure of Mister Wayne then is a woman with almost unkempt and wild black hair, going over in an old style go-go dress then and platform heels. Along her neck is an almost ritzy looking necklace as opposed to the normal far more fashionable one. A pair of oversized hoop earrings are dangling down then as well as Selina Kyle casually goes to twirl over on her four inch pumps towards Bruce.

"Why Mister Wayne, it has been /ages/" She purrs, almost literally then as Selina goes to sashay over towards him adn offers her hand out to Bruce. "Might a lady have this dance with the tramp since it came all the way out here?" Selina is enjoying the rare sort of night she has to relax. And even in /Gotham/ no bad guy is going to have low enough standards to hit a disco night, right?

The girl by the door knows when she's outmatched. Both Bruce Wayne and the lady that sashays up to him are so far out of her league that she's fully prepared to pack up and leave the moment she sees them arrive. Since every head in the house has already turned toward them (including her own), Mia sighs and realizes that the night's a bust.

She heads toward the back, pledging to stay out of the way of the Famous Couple until the front door's cleared, and leans her elbows on the windowsill as she looks outside. Her hearing, not as good as Supergirl's, still picks up a nice couple of cats yowling a block or two away and she rolls her eyes. Everyone's getting some tonight. I should have stayed home.

Considering how good her senses are, she's really not very attentive to the possibility of villains attacking. Must be the out of town thing: she knows that nothing goes wrong in Gotham City.

"Selina Kyle," Bruce says, masking well the hidden question behind his words with practiced geniality. "I had heard you were spending some time upstate. I'm a bit surprised to see you back in Gotham so soon."

Bruce does, of course, take the hand that she offers, using it to pull the dark haired beauty in close, his other arm slipping around her waist to hold her. "You're looking exquisite. And that necklace? Where did you get that?"

Bruce's eyes casually glance about the room, seemingly just to drink in the sights. The Bat, however, is picking out the details. Selina's necklace. Surely it was stolen. Might he remember such a theft recently? The young couple dancing together too close, too intimately. The man who just spilled booze down his shirt and is now cursing in a Slavic language. The lonely girl in the back, peering out the window with the lights illuminating the glossy remnants of tears on her cheeks.

But, he dances. Bruce leads Selina out onto the multi-colored, flashing lights that served as the dance floor. To pretty much no one's surprise, Bruce Wayne does have some rhythm.

Selina just smiles over at Bruce, "Why, you know me, the only state I'm ever in is exactly where.." Ms. Kyle fluttered her eyelashes, "I want to be. So how are you doing? Still motoring about overin your parent's basement and never seeing the sun and playing on the computer all the time? Onemight get the wrong idea of what it was you spent your life doing, billionare playboy." She saunters past him and then goes to watch over as he moves to take her along, her eyes lightly flicking over past the couple that just spilled over down the man's shirt. Her fingers dart out and over, in passing moving to make an almost too casual grab for the man's wallet then - invisible unlikely to any set of eyes in the room over but Bruce's and perhaps Mia's if the girl happens to be looking over at her at just that moment, the motion far too fast and -perfect- otherwise to e anything but.

A vertically challenged couple, the man with a full flowing beard and the lady with a harassed look that probably comes of having children at home, comes in through the back door. They don't pay to get in, but the fact that nobody stops them or even asks them questions makes one believe that they're involved in the event. They start dancing, very poorly but enthusiastically, and the male immediately stops to get himself a mead. I mean, an ale. I mean...something in a mug that's probably lethal to humans.

Mia, the girl in the window, says something to the lady who smiles beautifully in response. What was said isn't important, but they do seem like decent folks. And Mia seems to cheer up a little bit, finally turning back to the crowd.

Totally missed Selena's theft, but then she's still listening to the superhero girl on the rooftops wondering if she's planning to come down anytime soon. She looks out the window again, staring -straight- at the girl on the roof, and gives a mediocre smile. Like she's not trying to out you, but hey, nice to see someone watching out for the place. Hi.

Talon is atop the roof indeed, staring down at the party with an owlish gaze. She bedecked in a new outfit of her own for the occasion, though she didn't have the nerve to actually go inside. A lace gloved hand waggles its fingers down at the observer within before fidgeting at a braid. She'll not be keeping this hairstyle.

Laura's dusky eyed gaze continually scans over the environs, not missing a detail from her vantage atop the windswept roof. Gotham is always windswept, unless its foggy and nasty. Then it's stagnant. Never shall it know a comfortable medium.

Standing somewhat over five feet tall, and weighing approximately a hundred and twenty pounds, she presents a lithe figure. She appears to be of asiatic origin, having an oriental curve to her face and slight olive coloration of her skin. Long silky black hair goes down to the middle of her back, set against drab looking tanned skin. Alert, yet strangely haunted green eyes gaze out, the girl having a habit of moving around as if agitated. Face without makeup, lips almost continuously pursed in an everpresent frown. On the rare times she smiles, one would notice an almost disconcerting set of incisors, as if fangs sticking out.

This girl is dressed in black from head to toe. Clad in a sheer black veil and matching lace dress, she looks she's ready to crash a funeral. Her hair is evenly parted and neatly cut shoulder length, hanging perfectly straight in a pair of braids on either side to frame her face that peers out behind the fishnet veil. Her hands are bedecked in fingerless and sheer gloves with a pair of extra barely noticeable slits betwixt her fingers. Feet are adorned with a pair of shiney, pretty black slippers whilst her black dress covers her legs down to her knees, the lower half adorned with plain stockings. Her top is a plain black button up with a neat white collar folded down.

"Oh, I've been getting out a bit more these days," Bruce says, flashing that award winning smile as if he genuinely means it. Is Bruce the mask? Is the Bat? Maybe they're both a mask. So the question is, what lies underneath? "Of course, I'd have drug myself out of the... Mancave... much earlier if I knew that such a vision was back in my city. We really do need to get together more."

And he dips, she dips, they dip. As they do so, Bruce leans in ever so close, the raspy scruff of his cheek brushing against Selina's own. His voice comes in a deep, throaty whisper that is undeniably that of the Bat. Low, but close enough that she can hear. "Put the wallet back. There's going to be something far more important happening soon."

There's a sigh over from Selina then and a light growl, "Fine, it's not like he's going to be needing it anytime soon." Then there's a twirl over from Selina as the pair go back towards the oen that Selina had just pickpocketed, and the wallet would slip back over to the pocket. Minus all it's contents ofcourse, but -technically- obeying the letter of the law.

Up and over on the stage, the band would be siwtching ove as a middle aged African American with a ridiculously oversized afro and some backup singers with boom boxes went up to it

Talon has disconnected.

There's a sigh over from Selina then and a light growl, "Fine, it's not like he's going to be needing it anytime soon." Then there's a twirl over from Selina as the pair go back towards the oen that Selina had just pickpocketed, and the wallet would slip back over to the pocket. Minus all it's contents ofcourse, but -technically- obeying the letter of the law.

Up and over on the stage, the band would be siwtching ove as a middle aged African American with a ridiculously oversized afro and some backup singers with boom boxes went up to it

"He took the bait," Bruce Wayne mutters under his breath, though in reality, he's speaking to his lifelong companion and butler across the hidden radio in his tie. "Alfred, I'm underdressed for the occasion, after all."

"Should I bring the suit with the platform boots, sir? It would be most dreadful if you weren't dressed for the festivities."

"Alfred..."

"Right away, Sir."

Bruce looks back to his dance partner, stepping back just enough so that his hands rest on her hips loosely. "Selina, dear. I think I'm going to use the opportunity to freshen up while the band gets set up. Perhaps you might find it worth your while to do likewise?"

Selina just glances over at Bruce, then over at the band on the stage, then back over at Bruce, "Your standards are slipping. I swear that your Butler is going to have you back down in your Mancave at this rate." She sounds like she's scolding, even as she just lets out a sigh, "Can't I have one night off like ever.." But, Selina goes to do as she's told, wondering what sort of lunatic would /possibly/ be dumb enough to want to rob something like a..

On teh main dance floor, the disco ball strobes, and Hypno Hustler struts then, "Hello boys and girls! It's time to get jiggy with it, and blast a jive on!" The hypnotic boom box starts to play, and one of the most undignified events in Gotham in the last week or so as the crowd is hypnotized by a disco ball starts. Batman has partially disconnected.

Actually paying attention to the room, Mia's sensitive hearing is not able to hear everything that Bruce is saying. Perhaps it's due to the boom boxes overriding nearly everything in the room unless it's right next to you, perhaps it's due to the strategic planning of the people doing the talking. Only the author would know, but regardless Mia is kept from learning these choice clues and instead spends the time wondering if the DJ has anything by Pink in the playlist.

She runs her hands over her skirt, wishing that sweat wasn't something she'd kept, and starts to wander around the room. She eyes the boy that she was supposed to be dancing with, with her eyes in her dreams, and walks into someone's extended drink like a complete klutz, ending up with badly spiked fruit juice all over her head and her eyes wide.

A couple of people laugh, but mostly the crowd just stands there looking like it's nothing to do with them, as Mia turns and stomps toward the bathroom, her earlier tears returning. Whoever she is, she's apparently the world's unluckiest lady tonight.

Bruce makes his dashing escape to the bathroom, slipping earplugs in before the boomboxes start playing their hypnotic frequency. In the bathroom, he cracks the window, where faithful Alfred slips a briefcase up to him. It only takes a few seconds, as the regalia of The Batman is layered on top of the awful disco era suit Bruce was wearing. Now, he just needs to make an entrance.

Batman slips out of the bathroom stealthily, just missing Mia by a few seconds as she wanders into the ladies room. He sticks to the darkness, the shadows, and the walls. Nearing the corner to the main dance floor, his grapnel gun is loosed from his belt, and raised heavenward.

PFFT!

The projectile launches and latches onto the railing of the light scaffolding surrounding the main square of the dance floor. With a soft whine, the Bat is carried upwards, where he swings up and crouches, hopefully, still unseen.

As Mia runs over towards the bathroom sobbing, she comes upon Selina that is otherwise in there to 'freshen up' who looks over at her, "Hey there, everything okay?" She has her purse then, her ridiculously overly large earrings, and has just gone over tos tart to wash her face then when the other girl comes on in then, and she goes to glance out the door.

Meanwhile on the stage, Hypno Hustler goes, "Now, we'd like to give a big shot out to all of you! Namely shout, let your wallets out!" The strobe disco ball on the ceiling has otherwise started to flash, and the crowd is all being hypnotized over as they start to take out thier wallets and go to put them if not interrupted over into bags tehn that the Hypno Hustler's goons are carrying. Stranger still, the bags have great big green $'s on the sides of them. . Say what you must this is probably one of the more polite and organized holdups the city has seen.

With Selena in the bathroom, Mia pauses. She's not blind; sure, she only just this moment realized that something was up and is blushing mostly because it took her so long to come to that conclusion due to embarrasment and spilled juice, but now she's not able to get changed. So she decides to fake it, and wipes her face with a kleenex til her makeup is ruined, going to the sink.

Not sure how to protect the lady from the problems on the dance floor and having NO clue that Selena is a 'special kitty', she does her best and fakes the rest. "I'll be fine, just...maybe you shouldn't go out there. I mean, there's nothing interesting, it's just Disco right?" There, that wasn't suspicious at all.

She looks at the lady, wondering how she's supposed to change into her super suit, and gets the definite feeling that she's going to be fighting crime in a baggy sweater and nikes. Yay.

A Batarang is probably the best tool for this job, Batman decides. Gotta love the classics. The small, bat shaped throwing blade is drawn from his belt and poised between two fingers. A flick of his wrist, and he lets the buzzing blade fly on a curved trajectory straight for the disco ball, intending to send it crashing to the floor.

Already, Batman is tapping on the computer display hidden in the plating of his gauntlets, allowing him to hack in to the laptop that was set up to control the sound and lighting. He really should have called Oracle in on this to save him some time. Still. It should be lights out in just a moment.

Selina just goes to glance over at Mia, "Everythig okay?" She went to quirk a brow over at the girl, "You seem like something rough happened to you. Someone out there try and make a move over on you?" She offers then, "And I take it they didn't go ahead and take 'no' very well?" Whether or not that's accurate, Selina is just trying to stall the girl as much as she can from going out there, not sure what is going on but wanting to try and make sure that nothing happens.

"You kow what they said about discos and the duck. And the thing we do over to keep up appearances." She offers.

The disco ball shatters then, and everything is in slow motion strobe light effects then as the faidng 'Nuh Nuh Nuh Nuh' of the accordion playing mind controlling bakup singers carryign giant $ bags stare up and out. One of them points in slow motion, "Look! It's Bat Man!" The lights flicker out, only occasionally broken by the strobe light.

Mia can hear what's going on. She's anxious, and it's obvious on her face that she really wants something, but she can't exactly just tell Selina that she needs to go change into a leotard and punch bad guys. Luckily she came into the room looking like she was upset, so it's not out of character.

"I..." she starts, then figures her best shot is to just give the lady what she wants so she'll go to the bathroom or something. She only needs a moment, after all. "No, see, I came with Dave Riddick, the guy with the blonde mullet, and he was supposed to dance with me, and those two stupid stupid girls with the boobs and the teeth and the perfect...things..." she motions to the chestal area, emphatically, not sure how to politely say boobs and forgetting that she just did.

Long breath, calm, calm. She takes a moment, knowing that Batman is on the scene, and hoping that this is going to work, and says, "You get the idea. The juice on my face just adds to the fun, I need to wash my face. How's your night?" Oh hell, no, you did not just ask her to continue the conversation? My god, girl, how dumb are you?

God Batman, I hope you're as good as your rumours. I'll be a moment.

As soon as he's pointed out, The Batman rises from his crouched position. His cape spreads out to form the shape of broad, wickedly pointed wings, and he, himself, becomes a creature of shadow, with only glowing white eyes and the yellow outline of a bat breaking that oppressive darkness. The Bat glides down to the floor, backlit by the strobing lights. His cape is like black smoke as it billows around him, slowly settling to the floor to drape about his body like a funeral shroud. His face is lowered, so that those cold, white eyes stare up at Hypno Hustler with more menace.

"You shouldn't have come to my city, Antoine Delsoin," The Batman says, his voice a gutteral rasp that sounds almost otherworldly. "You can either turn yourself over to me now... Or I will hurt you."

Hypno Hustler faces Batman, "Aww, come /on/." he lets out a sigh, "Really man, like can't we talk about this?" He goes to put his hands up and over in the air.. Right over as he triest ot then whip out his afro, which has a giant mind control device built over to it even as the boom boxes shut off and all the power goes to the swirly hypnotic watch bouncing back and forth thath e's hidden over in his hair.

Over with Mia, SElina nods, "Well, in that case you can just do what comes naturally. Namely make a comment about how nice it is that they feel so bad about how they look that mommy or daddy had to put a lot of money over into them that could have bene put into something better, like maybe getting a hichuaha instea since they're lower maintenance. IF that doesn't work, jsut blackjack them over somewhere and give them some nice bruises and a broken nose." Selina is a helper!

With her wonderful, awful teasing ears giving her all the events as they're happening and being completely unable to participate in the fun, Mia says, "I mean...wait, beat them up? Isn't that kind of, you know, a bit much?" She actually paid attention there, Selina managing to get her brain in gear at least that much. "I mean, sure, I'd love to see the bunch of them bleeding in a ditch, but that doesn't mean we get to actually do it. Does it?" Does it? Ask yourself, really.

Eh, Batman's doing alright without me. This is important here. "Tell me more about how to do this thing." She leans toward Selina, in the ladies bathroom, and leans her elbows on the sink. "Maybe a little less subtle."

"Hard way, then."

Batman manages to launch a three-bat barrage of batarangs at Hypno Hustler, before his eyes meet the swirling hypno-watch that the villain had hidden in his hair. Fortunately, he was aiming for that place, expecting a weapon, so with any luck, those batarangs are going to tear that device up, too. Because if not... Well, then Batman is going to be going for a ride in his own mindscape for awhile to break the hypnosis.

What sort of weapon do men normally hide over in giant tufts of hari that Batman expects from previous experience in Gotham? Rocket launchers? Spring loaded boxing gloves? Bat-Mite? Whatever it is, his isntincts are right as he goes to pound down on that giant head of hair over like a busted up cuckoo clock.

Mia hears a very non-Batman high pitched scream going, "NOT THE FACE! NOT THE FACE!"

As the Bat Beat Down commences. Selina continues over in the bathroom, "Well, anything worth doing is worth doing yourself. You get the ego boost of having settled an issue yourself /and/ dealt with rivals. And honestly, daddy will just pay for another boob job for them anyways. And this is Gotham sweetie, you eitehr defend your turf against all comers or you end up the chihuahaha."

Also further Bat accompanied beating screams of "BAD TOUCH! BAD TOUCH!" fill the air. Given Mia's preoccupation, she's kind of glad she's not the one who has to deal with Bat Touch. It's not something she's ever visualized, though she has always wanted to see the Batman's special moves in person. Kara's told her so much about them. Well, a little. She's mentioned batman in passing. We should probably talk more.

"Thing is, I think I might not actually, really, totally honest not want him so much anymore. He's a dickweed and he deserves the paternity suits he's earning. I mean, if he survives the night." That last bit was said quieter, but she still thinks maybe she should go actually SAVE someone. Minor details.

"Are kneecaps fair game? I'm asking for a friend."

Kinky

It doesn't take long. The Batman takes out anyone that comes at him out as swiftly as he can, without causing any serious injury. Mostly just dislocating a shoulder here, kicking out a knee there. A good solid punch to the chin to knock them out cold. All the while marching towards Hypno Hustler like an unstoppable force of nature.

As he approaches Antoine Delsoin, the Hypno Hustler, he grabs the felon by the throat and lifts him up with one hand.

"This is Gotham! This is MY city!"

With his free hand, he twists Hypno Hustler's wrist, bending it back at a sharp and painful angle, ready to snap.

"You're a coward, Delsoin. A weak thing that preys on low hanging fruit. Did you think that Gotham would be that easy? Did you smell weakness in the air?"

The questions are rhetorical, and Batman just slams the man down on the ground.

"Why on earth would you come to this city, of all places? Tell me!"

WHAM! BAM! SMASH! Hypno Hustler is having his head smashed and bashed then,and stars and circles are appearing over his head. "You know how hard it is to find a functioning disco, man!? There's not many of 'em left! Like, you know how it's going out of style man!? It's real hard to stay i the biz." Of robbing discos as a disco themed supervillain. In complete fairness to him, he sort of did have a point and dedication to his craft. Of using mind control disco balls to only rob discos.

Then over in the bathroom SElina shrugs then as the sounds of beatings fill the air, "Well, if you're going for something permanent there's the Nacy method. Hit the inside of the kneecap, break it to the side, gives a permanent sort of limp then but leaves them partially mobile. Breaks it in a way that they can walk with a brace but htey'll never have full mobility."

Mia looks concerned, more out of a need to get out and do something heroic now that things are getting all bashy-noisey out there. "Noted," she says as Selina educates her on what NOT to do to her villains but what might be acceptable in field hockey. She did wonder what Angie Gracie did to Meitha on the court last year, and is hoping to avoid getting a rep as a soft hitter.

Unfortunately it's getting KIND OF LOUD out there and pretending that they can't hear what's going on is losing the believability it had when she walked into the bathroom. She needs, I mean needs as in her cousin Superman will be asking what she was doing all this time and she wants to have some kind of explanation ready, she NEEDS to get out there and help with the fight before someone gets hurt! So she says, "Look, I really can't stay in here any longer, miss..."

Fishing for a name, she realizes she's drawing it out even more, and sighs. I'm never going to get to punch someone. Was so looking forward to it. I mean, it's just one villain, who'd miss one villain?

CRASH!

Hypno Hustler comes flying through the door to the ladies room, skidding on his back until he hits the opposite wall.

"Disco is dead! Let it die!"

How hasn't this guy caught on to the EDM scene yet? It'd be perfect for him. But Batman will never say that. Instead, he just walks into the restroom after him, calmly, adjusting one of his gauntlets.

"And you will be, if you come back to Gotham."

That menacingly cowled face looks up at the pair of women with cold, dead white eyes. There's a moment where his gaze meets Selina's, and even through the mask, and the blank, glowing lenses, the look that is there is easily discernible as silently saying, "Really? You've been in here having girl time while I was fighting the bad guy?", but he doesn't speak. Instead, he just gives a gruff, noncommital sound and turns his back to walk towards the exit again.

"Keep an eye on him until the police arrive."

He pauses for a moment, and looks half over his shoulder at the pair of women, before adding, "No one is worth crying over if they didn't want you in the first place. You're better. You can do better. So. Do better."

And with that, The Batman steps out of the women's restroom and back into the darkness.

Selina goes to casually give Batman the middle finger as he goes to storm on in and out, "See the sign on the door! It reads /ladies/, pervert!" Seh gives that cheeky bit over as she turns to Mia then and crosses her arms on her hips, exaggerated earrings bouncing over then as she turns over to watch Hypno Hustler get stuffed over into a toilet.

"But, you want to play mean, you fight dirty. Those other girls are going to be mean, so should you. There's plenty of places those primped up princesses won't expect you to plow them, so ream them out for all they're worth when it comes to busting thier heads in if they get in your way." PRobably not the best girl to girl talk for Mia.

Mia goes to the door, then calls out at the Darkness, "I was coming, god damn it! I was...I was coming." She trails off, looking at the devastation of the dance floor and not hearing the last 'tips' from Catwoman. She blinks, then says, "Pretty sure the point's moot, ma'am. Want a drink? I think the bar's still open." She's underage, but not like it matters. This is Gotham City.