Dead Drop

[seriouslyevil.livejournal.com]

Normally, when Roman wanted to schedule an appointment with someone, he usually carved the date, time, and place of the meeting onto the corpse of a loved one/associate. Unfortunately, he had to be a bit more subtle. With Brucey's weak stomach, he'd probably vomit all over the corpse, pass out, then someone would come in and find one of the models he dated dead and draped across his desk, the cops would get involved, and things would get messy.

Well, messier.

So, this time he had to be just a touch more subtle, which was kind of annoying since he really really wanted to burn part of Gotham to ground after The Batman had barged in unexpectedly and given him a rather sound beating.

Bastard.

At least he had the Albanians to take his rage out on. Over the last month, he had quite emphatically squashed the small group, and taken over their operations in the north east. And lucky for him, he knew a place that was great for rounding up women that he could then sell to the highest bidder. Perhaps he'll shelve those plans to destroy Selina's shelter after all...

But back to Bruce, who was simply left a cellphone on his desk at work. It's previous owner wouldn't be needing it anyway, poor girl. But, later that night, Bruce would get a call on that phone, with a recording telling him where to bring the money that night.

And currently at that location, a rather run down mill in a long since abandoned industrial complex, the Black Mask was waiting.

Don't be late, Bruce.

Comments

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

Bruce's head jerks up, his hands twitch again, and the briefcase falls open, spilling stacks of bills until he can close it again. "I'm sorry," he stammers, crouching to retrieve what's fallen. Kent would be proud.

He looks horrified at all the show of firepower. But if thoughts could kill, Roman would be a greasy spot on the floor.

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Selina is somehow managing to remain detached from most of her anger. There is a cold analytical place where she's managed to secure herself inside of her mind. There are frantic worried and furious thoughts clawing at her but she continues to hold where she is. The men with guns are counted and she makes a subtle glance around looking for possible snipers. She's already determining vectors for exits.

She'd barely realized this cold fury was something she could own, let alone hone to such a sharp edge.

[seriouslyevil.livejournal.com]

Its a good thing no one here has brain powers. The amount of death and destruction would be staggering.

For the moment, Roman took his eyes off of Selina and addressed one of his goons.

"Count it. Make sure its all there."

Not that he wasn't going to kill them and keep the cash anyway.

"Need some Pepto, Brucey? You look like you're about to lose your lunch."

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

"No," mumbles Bruce as he gathers the money that's fallen, keeping a wary eye out for the goon that's approaching. Rarely has he wanted to unleash a torrent of violent fury the way he does now, and rarely has he been in such a poor position to do so. He allows his restrained temper to keep his hands shaking, and the money flutters as a result while being placed back in the briefcase.

Which results in more falling out. "Damn it...."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Selina stays where she is, making sure there is a place to run after she tackles Bruce out of the way. For the moment, she's doing her best to stay out of the way of the whole interaction. The less attention on her, the better off she is when she has to move quickly.

[seriouslyevil.livejournal.com]

Oh, there's plenty of attention on you Selina. And you really don't want any of it.

Roman's goon, somewhat annoyed, snatched the case from Bruce and picked up all the money the spilled out. With something of a grunt at Bruce, he departed, heading around to an area where money counting machines were set up.

"This might take a minute, Brucey," Roman spoke up over the clacking of the machines. "Try not to pass out.

"You look so nervous; you should be happy! You're about to pay far too much for a two-cent whore. You should be celebrating. Think of all the dicks that had to been in her over the years. Fucking her is like fucking half of Gotham, most of Paris, a good chunk of the Atlantic northeast, and the entire prison population of Arkham. You should be filled with joy.

"You know, provided your dick don't burst into flames the moment it touches her."

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

Once the briefcase with the high-tech marked bills is taken from Bruce, he remains on one knee with his head bowed, a hand covering his face. For once, he does not trust his temper to remain hidden. Any man would be angry at his fiancée being thusly insulted, but at this moment, Black Mask would receive a full blast of the icy, hate-filled glare of the Batman. Bruce has to take a moment to calm down.

"Shut up," he eventually mutters as he straightens to stand again, voice and movements still purposefully unsteady. "You have your damned money. We're leaving."

[femme-du-chat.livejournal.com]

Selina turns to look at Black Mask in silence. She's not at all worried about his comments and what they might do once heard. While he might be more creative with how he says it, it is nothing that hasn't been said to her before.

[seriouslyevil.livejournal.com]

"No. You're not."

You hear that sound echoing off the walls? No, not the money machine, which is almost done counting. That other sound, the sudden burst of metallic clanking. That's the sound of several guns being cocked and pointed in your direction.

It is never wise to be rude to the Black mask.