Another day, another...aww, t'hell wi'dit.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

Large, green, scaly, scowling, that's the distinct and typical manner of Waylon Jones, known better to Gotham as Killer Croc. His attitude is rarely sunny, and this evening his temper is burying the needle, past murderous rage.

He just feels the need for mayhem.

Quitting the sewers via a manhole near Fittany's Jewelers, he cracks his knuckles and ponders the best way into the bank, beyond the usual M.O. of busting in the window, yanking out some iron bars, and hoping that the schmuck security guard wants to come out and play.

There's gotta be a better way for a guy to make money and get his homicidal freak on in this lousy town.

Comments

[jla-randoms.livejournal.com]

High above, on the corner of the bank building, a shadowy figure observes Croc's hulking form - double-checking the handheld tracker that tells him he's found Batman's tracer.

It seems unlikely that Croc was Batman's opponent earlier in the week - but that doesn't matter, really. He needs to be taken down anyway.

Robin slips the tracker back in his utility belt and prepares to make an entrance.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

What to throw, what to throw...

Croc eyes a VW Beetle, a trash can, a mail box (nah, dat's a federal offense) and then a lamp post, deciding to uproot the last in that list. Nice big steel weapon, good for shattering glass, beating in iron bars, pulverizing skulls.

[jla-randoms.livejournal.com]

There's a thin whistle in the air as three R-shaped shuriken spin to their target - Croc's arm. Tim, bo staff in hand, has arrived at street level without otherwise making a sound - standing a distance from Croc equal to about twice the length of that lamp post.

"What's the deal, Croc? Do you think you'd look smarter if you carried a lightbulb around over your head?"

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

Whirling around, Croc regards the things stuck in his arm and then looks at Robin. "You gotta wear clothes with your initials on 'em and you call me dumb?"

He puts down the lamppost (on top of the mailbox, whoops) to pluck the sharp things out of his scales. "Dat almost hurt."

[jla-randoms.livejournal.com]

The shuriken erupt into small clouds of pale yellow gas as Croc begins to pull them out - the acrid smoke probably won't be enough to knock him out, but it should make the fight a little slower.

"The next part is where it's supposed to hurt. Batman sends his regards."

Robin brandishes the bo staff, adopting a defensive stance.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

Coff, coff, coff. Croc waves a hand in from of his face, backing away from the little puffs of gas. "What's wrong wi' you, Boy Wonder? You tryin' to give me da sniffles?"

He picks up the lamppost and faces Robin, adding, "How come he's sending Junior to do his work now?"

[jla-randoms.livejournal.com]

Robin manages a little smile.

"Batman's tending to the important stuff. After the last time he fought you, he figured you didn't rate his full attention."

He inches a little closer, preparing to make his move.

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I gotcha. Insult da big green guy. Funny, kid." Croc swings the lamppost at Robin. Strong is Croc, but that is not the fastest weapon.

[jla-randoms.livejournal.com]

Robin leaps aside, clearing the impact zone of the lam post by several feet. He redirects his momentum, rolling in towards Croc - jamming the reinforced bo staff between Croc's feet, and then violently jerking it to one side.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_alfred_/]

"Sir," comes the sonorous voice of Alfred Pennyworth, "you have a visitor. I trust you are receiving company?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Silence. Stiff back, some coughing, otherwise nada.

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

The shadows don't only contain bats. No, they contain a Cat as well. One whose tail would be twitching did she have one. She's annoyed - with Bruce, with herself. He's down here in the cold and damp. She's silent for the moemnt, watching and waiting.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_alfred_/]

"Very good, sir. I shall inform Ms. Lance that you are at home." He turns and ascends the stairs to the main part of Wayne Manor.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Bruce's response will earn some money for Alfred's swear jar. As the butler departs, Bruce does say quietly, "Stop lurking."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"I'm not lurking."

Well. She's lurking but she's not coming closer at this point. She's still annoyed.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"Whatever the hell you're doing in the shadows," Bruce continues as he pores over three different computer displays, "stop. I'm not going back to bed. Too much to do."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_black_canary_/]

Boot heels clatter on the stairs. "Brooding practice again?"

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

"You can try," Bruce calls after Dinah before a good coughing spell wracks him. In between the gasps for air and the spitting of what comes up, he says very unkind things about the state of the water of Gotham Harbor. "Vampire on the loose, got to find who ambushed me, Tim out there alone...no time," he says to those remaining. "Don't dose me again. I'm fine."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"You're not fine. I'll go help him as long as you're in bed."

Selina stands there, looking down at him.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

Stubborn, pig-headed, bullish? These adjectives don't scratch the surface of the Wayne determination. Bruce also is far, far too proud to admit when injury - or worse, illness - keep him from his appointed duty. Which is precisely the sort of thing that has brought them to the current conundrum. He looks up at Selina, eyes watery, and explains in a scratchy, weary voice, "I can't let you out there with some lunatic bleeding people dry."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

"Please, Bruce. Don't."

Pressing her lips together, she lets a breath out through her nose, "You think I'm going to let some vampire kick my ass? I'll be fine. Go sleeps and take care of yourself."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

A long pause follows. Bruce looks at the monitors, looks at Alfred, looks at Selina and gets to his feet cautiously, weight on the right foot. "Get me in an hour."

Is that a concession? Maybe?

[http://users.livejournal.com/_alfred_/]

"Very good, sir," says Alfred. Who may or may not decide to stretch the definition of "an hour" for the occasion.

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Selina leans in and kisses Bruce on the cheek. She just needs to finish getting changed and she'll be out the cave on a spare motorcycle. Vampires don't scare her at all.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_darkknight_/]

No one accused Selina of being normal in that respect. Bruce tiredly returns the kiss and then makes his slow way up the stairs, adding, "Need to see Cross soon," more to himself than anything.