2016-08-30 - Trump Card

The night is hotter than usual. A fog is rolling in that threatens to become a pea soup before midnight, and tonight it holds a secret fresh from the frozen north. Taking a vacation from the wilds of the north woods is a figure as much man as beast, but most wouldn't know it to look at him with his rough chin and recently shaved head.

The wild man strolls down a back alley, his trench concealing a black tee and red label levis over heavy work boots. Its his hands that are the stuff of nightmares, though his smile is what he's named for. A smile reminiscent of Laura's with savage vampiric incisors, though the inheritance is closer to the other way around. Sabertooth is on the prowl, his nails concealed in his pockets as he eyes the Gotham wildlife. A crew of thugs are moving in behind him. The poor kids think they're the ones hunting tonight.

One would expect Laura to be the one to show this time. With it being someone from her past, and her claiming this area. With her knowledge of the target. Though she may be the reason he's here, she's not the one who's watching him from above.

Watching may not seem like much, but for this little piece of shadow, watching is learning, and learning about a target is god. The shadow frowns as she sees the children approaching Him, and realizes the killer is probably waiting for them to get close. She can see it in the tension of his calves, the way his lips curl.

And a shadow falls over the kids; a shadow they're familiar with in this city. The bat symbol, cast by a cape silhouetted on the wall. Creed smiles wide to give everyone a good look at his trademarks, a gravelly voice escaping his lips as he glances over his shoulder,"You kids better run along. I'd make sure its quick, unlike the one lookin' at you."

He removes his hands from his pockets in case they still want a piece, tapping his coat open so he can move freely.

The kids brandish knives and one of them has a revolver. The leader has a bike chain in his hand attached to a handle, he loudly asks,"What're you talkin' about, fang face?" Another one looks up, having sharper senses and announces,"It's batgirl, the one with no mouth!"

The bat settles to the ground. She rears up, throwing her cape wide to make herself look huge, and lets the reputation do its work. "GO," she says in that dark gravelly voice that probably won't work, but hey, she's making an effort. What good is wearing the symbol if you can't strike fear into the hearts of babies who're about to get gutted by a monster?

Of course, she keeps her eyes locked on the cat person. Lion person. Whatever. She's met his kind before; you don't give them an instant. Also, she has her right hand palming a glue grenade. Because to hell with fair, with this guy.

They beat feet. Sabertooth is a big man, not as big as Bane or Jean Paul but he's tall and built nonetheless. A lion is a good analogy for how he moves as well as he takes a few steps forward, not enough to come in arms' reach or be any sort of ordinary threat but close enough that he doesn't have to worry about being heard when he lowers his voice,"Ruining my fun. All the same, I wanted to make the aquaintance of one of you tender Bat people I've heard about." He chuckles softly at that, his eyes narrowly subtley.

Awe, and he picked the one bat person who isn't chatty. Letting her cape fall so she's not giving away any of her intentions, Cassandra stands her ground as the big guy approaches. "Met," she says in her usual abruptness. "Now, leave." Not expecting it to be that easy, not even remotely, she makes her expectations clear and alerts Oracle that she's got something on camera she should pay attention to.

The almost complete lack of a response, along with her smell of being a predator is a defense. Unfortunately, gaining Sabertooth's respect often has other consequences. Creed, the man otherwise known as Sabertooth, appreciates someone who isn't up for witty banter. He prefers extracting the smell of fear by action, which is what explodes into existence as he seems to literally fly across the distance between them with a single leap that has his trench coat fluttering with the force of the wind and fog he moves through. His unusually sharp and ugly yellow nails reveal themselves to be extendable claws and they spring out several inches, every one cruelly sharp and bone hard.

The big man snarls when he slashes at her midriff, his movement being to lay her open rather than anything so mundane as a tackle,"Who ya talkin' at, girly? Candid camera, I love a crowd..."

Cassandra, watching for exactly that move, is sliding her feet as the slice comes forward. Actually slightly before it, which is why she manages to not get cut in half by it when it arrives. She ducks a touch, slaps out and down with her hands, and lets her legs kick up.

Hooking her left foot on a fire escape ladder and planting the other on the brick wall of the alley, she hangs in a full splits over Sabertooth's head with both hands in a fist guard. Then pulls out a batarang for each hand while she lets the glue grenade soak into Sabertooth's claws. Fur. Whatever was there when she slapped her hands.

She's slower than he is, but she moved FIRST. And is very carefully not taunting him. Dr. Pamela Isley has connected.

It's true, Sabertooth is a very hairy man just like Wolverine. Probably more so, enough that Robin Williams with his shirt off looks well manicured by comparison. The big man is flustered by the maneuver of gluing his hands, a low growl like a snarling lion escaping his throat. He's physically potent however, and this won't stay him for long.

He tears a the glue, likely taking skin off as he works off enough to free his fingers and the claws extending from him,"Bitch, you will wish you hadn't done that..."

Cassandra Cain is keeping off the ground; she's not sure how tough this guy is yet, just that he's supremely confident in his abilities. And if he's off his feet, it evens things up a little. A little annoyed at why everyone seems to want to babble during fights, she gives a little headshake and gives him a little bit back. "Not stupid enough to...play nice," she says as she looks down at him.

Using the opportunity however, she grabs the railing of the fire escape and swings. Her parallel bars training coming in useful, she gets momentum and arcs downward with both heels aimed at Sabertooth's healthy target of a jaw. She hasn't quite got his timing down yet, but an opening is an opening.

The big feral serial killer is paying attention. He lets her get her momentum, taking the extra moment to peel off glue. When she swings in for the blow however, he snakes out with a raw hand to grab her by an ankle with a grip fast and sure as iron. Large muscles ripple as he twists on heel to sling her around bodily and throw her at a pile of trashcans.

He doesn't stay put this time, not for an instant. As she sails at the trashcan, he cuts loose an animalistic roar and charges on all fours right at her. He's not sparing another moment.

Grabbed and thrown, Cass mentally berates herself. Taking chances this early in a fight is a rookie move and she knows it. But a bit of body control lets her flip so she slams into the cans heel-first instead of with her head, crushing them into unrecognizeable modern art pieces.

Ever so slightly off balance, the girl drives her feet downward to gain full footing and flips the batarangs into combat grip in her fingers. Then she uses the remaining half-second to look at Sabertooth and try to relax. Because the openings will come, but until then she has to defend. And a batarang held right is a defensive dagger, and her guard is up.

Oh, also a front kick at Creed's nose, but that's a side note really. To throw off his rhythm.

Taking the kick, Creed is thrown off indeed. He underestimated her, she is only human after all. He squares off with her, eyes full of mayhem as he bares his claws for a heartbeat.

Flexing his hands once during that heart beat, he opens with a slash at neck level that would decapitate most fighters then and there, his follow through comes in a tiger palm thrust at belly level a fraction of a second later accompanied by a fine spray of blood from his broken nose. He does breath with his attacks, after all. Dr. Pamela Isley has disconnected.

Miss Cassandra manages to get one of her lovely carbonized titanium batarangs in the way of Sabertooth's claw. Unfortunately she's not ready for his sheer brute force, and instead of having her head shaven off it's knocked aside like a rag doll. The palm strike should have taken her dead center, but years of ingrained reflexes let her roll with the blow and suddenly she's dazed and inside Sabertooth's reach. Literally nose to nose with him, almost by accident.

Unfortunately, she's too stunned by his first blow to really take advantage of it. Fortunately, reflexes dictate that a knee brought up hard is a good default setting.

Sabertooth has been nailed thus on many occasions. Enough that it merely plays to his inner masochist for a moment. Most sociopaths have one. He smiles down at her, breathing heavy as he utters,"Scream for me..."

Creed's moment of pause passes with an elbow straight down at her skull, taking advantage of his natural altitude then grab at her neck with the other hand whether or not that lands.

The comment from Sabertooth has an effect on the girl, so very close that he can smell her heart inside her body. It makes her wake up.

Years, literally years, of living with a man fully as nasty and lethal as this guy make Sabertooth's comment take on a different level of reality. They make little Cassandra realize that she's in SERIOUS danger, and her head clears from instantaneous need.

The strike coming down slides down her back, as she steps forward and leans down to press a hand to the earth between Creed's feet; there's less you can do to a person who's that close. Then, reading his moves through actual touch, she hooks the incoming hand with both of her legs and uses her body weight to try to snap his wrist.

Yes, he's fast. Yes, he's dangerous. Good.

His musculature is formidable, but she's trained and no wet paper towel herself. Sabertooth's reaction is to sling her aside since she's obligated him by grappling his arm. If she doesn't let go, he'll then slam her into the wall.

IF she does let go, his next action will be to pull a Juggernaut and stamp down at her with his size 14 work boots.

Cassandra doesn't let go. Slamming into the wall, she gets the pain she expected. Along with a fractured shoulder and a couple of ribs. Accepting the damage as a minor detail, the female fighter holds onto the broken wrist and keeps it bent with her legs and torso's strength.

"You...heal," she says, expecting to get hurt more in this fight, but ready to deal with him in a way that'll have an effect. By holding his broken wrist out of position, she's making it heal WRONG. "Get...out...of...my...city..." she says, before he realizes what she's doing and can panic. Or whatever he'll do.

The man growls in frustration at this tactic. He eventually just reaches out and grabs her belt right at the base of her back if she's still determined. He'll snatch at it and rip it off if he can. If she does let go, he'll resnap his wrist and set it his wrist with an excited smile.

He utters either way,"You're just like Johnny boy and that whelp he calls a daughter Laura, ain't you. A real killer that won't accept their nature. Ha. You people are just like rats, no matter how many I shred there's more waitin'."

Eyes narrowing slightly, the little girl reacts to what Sabertooth is about to do rather than what he's doing. Using her best advantage, she's reading his moves now like a book; what he's doing now tells her what he's about to try, and when he grabs at her belt she's unclipped the buckle so it comes off too easily. Then he finds a batarang stabbing into his wrist, to let her take the belt back as she releases the arm, drops to the ground, and runs up a wall to get some range! Yes, up a wall.

Sabertooth snarls at the stabbing then watches her flip off of him to run up the wall. He flexes his previously broken wrist, having just rebroken it then reset it so that it'll heal properly. He then takes a moment to reset his nose. Looks are important after all. Exhaling nasally, Creed watches her trajectory and thinks for a second.

The big man launches himself at the wall, his finger claws latching into it to enable him to take hold. A split second later he's charging up after her, bits of stone flying to the earth with his progress. Cassandra Cain reaches the apex of what momentum will allow and leaps backwards, keeping an eye on Creed. She hits the opposite wall as Creed hits the place that she just vacated and immediately kicks off again, slicing at his tendons from behind in an attempt to send him to the ground below.

Of course, she also has to do something with the momentum of her body flying his direction, so a nice knee to the top of his head seems perfect. Which is aimed to track his attempt to dodge, which she's certain will be coming.

"Go."

She talks while she fights, but it's pretty much to the point. Creed's reaction wouldn't have been to dodge but to turn and swipe at the girl cutting on him. Either way he misses as he takes the knee to his shoulder and free falls. The big man lands on the side that just took the knee, effectively dislocating it. He growls as he works up to his feet, putting the limb back in place.

He replies with a threat to her one word order,"What if I make sport of your gutter trash? I bet I could have you out of the job in a month."

You paged Laura with 'I can slip in an ending that'll work, but it would take emitting the ENTIRE Bat team being seen lurking in the shadows for an instant. Which I can do, but I'd like to include you if I did that. Just, lightning flashes and he sees that there's like ten of us, with only one fighting so far.' From afar, Laura is good for that. You did radio Oracle after all Long distance to Laura: Cassandra Cain forgot. Yes, they'd be in the area by now. From afar, Laura poses like Ernest P World. Memory like a steel trap. From afar, Laura think this would be good for your Wiki, btw. The girl looking down at Creed seems almost part of the shadows, as she waits for him to try something again. She's watching, watching him very carefully, to see if he's going to attack again. She knows that he's not kidding, that he'll actually kill people, and has only the Batman's training to fall back on here.

"Then we will be there, too," her voice says, just before the breaking storm flashes. Lightning across the sky lights the night for just an instant, silhouetting the girl on the rooftop. But she's not alone; the figures of others stand beside her. Batman, Nightwing, Robin, Red Hood, Azrael, Red Robin, Batwing, Wildcat, Batwoman, Terry McGinness, X-23, Huntress, and yes, the purple form of Batgirl. Only for an instant, and then they're all gone. Not even a scent in the night; Creed is alone.

Sabertooth smiles. He really smiles this time. He makes sure he's heard as he fixes his trenchcoat, then slides his clawed hands into his pockets when the dramatic moment passes,"I like you. I just want you to know that. You should ask your friend Laura how long I stay away from people I like."

With that, he laughs softly and turns to walk into the foggy darkness. He figures it's time to check up on her, now that he's thinking about her and her so-called dad.