JLA Watchtower (Archive)

He hates this, to the very core of his soul he hates it. He hates leaving the handling of this whole affair to other hands, especially certain people that Selina has befriended. People he personally has shoved into the darkest corners of Arkham Asylum.

The cellphone he traced at once, of course, and realized with a sick certainty that the former owner is dead, maybe that body just fished out of the harbor with half a face missing. One more murder to attribute to Black Mask.

He plans to ensure it's the last.

Oracle has been informed and in turn the rest of his team - his family - has been informed. The ball is in Selina's court, and aside from a thin layer of bi-weave Kevlar under his clothes, he has only his wiles to keep him company. Hell.

Alfred had of course been strictly forbidden to drive him here because Bruce would rather die than see something happen to the man; he has brought the Lamborghini and a suitcase with the money and the highest-tech tracking chip he could find.

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Selina is here.

Selina is here and Catwoman looks to be absent, mostly. There is a twitchiness that lingers around her that is more one than the other but she doesn't think about these things this way. She's here because she knows she needs to be in order for this to really work.

There is a set to her as she approaches that is determined. She's not planning on letting this go any futher, either. Black Mask needs to go away, far, far away and she's hoping this will be the end of it - with or without any assistance from others.

Some part of her is confident this is all going to go to hell.

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There was a bit more strategy to this setting than one might think initially. The roads around the complex were virtually abandoned. At this late hour, any headlights coming could spotted a good five to ten minutes out.

The building he was in was empty, hollow. The type of building where the floorboards creaked, the hinges whined, where every sound, including the slightest breath, seemed to echo off the walls. There were few windows, and only one access point from the roof that hadn't been sealed off.

Roman stood inside the freight entrance to the mill, watching the Lamborghini pull in. He practically stood in the cars path, almost as if he was daring Bruce to run him down. He wasn't alone, with several of his men, all heavily armed, flanking his sides. Another pair were guarding the entrance, which they immediately closed when the car was completely in. There likely were others around, but none who could be seen at the moment.

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Bruce marks them, one by one, sizing them up, figuring how much they're armed and with what and whether those bullets will go through the Kevlar he's arranged for himself and Selina. He's pretty certain that Black Mask is the sort of lunatic that would account for protection and get armor-piercing bullets, but it's what could be done.

Very little.

Straightening his tie self-consciously, the billionaire Prince of Gotham walks around the rear of the car toward Selina, looking oh so little like the confident Dark Knight. He nervously licks his lips, takes Selina's hand and turns to face Black Mask.

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Selina almost doesn't want to take his hand. She wants her hands to be free - not that she knows what she'd do with them. Bullets aren't something she can punch or whip away. The kevlar that she's wearing is just different enough that she's not quite comfortable with it.

Still, if they didn't take some sort of precaution, it would have looked like they weren't taking it seriously. Not that this could get much more serious.

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He should've specified 'come alone'. Right now, Roman was glaring at Selina so hard right now. He was trying to channel his hate into making her burst into flames. Or having her be eaten alive from the inside out by fleash eating army ants. Or having her just EXPLODE SO HE CAN FINALLY BE RID OF HER ONCE AND FOR ALL!

HE WILL KILL HER WITH HIS MIND. HE WILL KILL HER WITH HIS MOTHERFUCKING MIND!!

...oh, wait, he doesn't have the power to do that.

Dammit!

He could just order his boys to gun them both down, but he hadn't counted the cash yet. Speaking of...

"Let me see the money."

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Bruce releases Selina's hand and grips the handle of the briefcase tightly.

The briefcase has a few tricks. Very few.

He lets his fingers tremble as he fumbles, eventually, with the latch. Darned thing will not open.

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Selina stays back from Bruce but within range for a quick diving tackle. Kevlar covers bodies really well but it doesn't cover heads at all. Especially now in this situation. She can almost feel the anger rolling off of Black Mask and she feels the mirroring emotion inside herself but there are other things holding her from glaring lazers of burning pain and death toward the man across the way.

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If he could kill Selina with pure raw unrelenting hate, she'd be nothing more than a pile of screaming, traumatized atoms right now. Bruce's delaying with cash certainly wasn't helping his mood.

"Brucey."

Might want to hurry it up there, Bruce.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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"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...."

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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.

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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."

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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."

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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.

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"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.

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If Selina's "friends" were waiting for a signal to act, this is a good one. Bruce has started walking toward Selina and the car when he hears those sounds and turns around, slowly.

"What are you doing?"

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Selina's tensed, narrowing her eyes. She's going to have to dive for him in a few seconds. Honestly, she isn't sure when Harvey or anyone else is going to be jumping in. Right now, though, her world has moved into a crystal clear resolution.

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eddie-nygma.livejournal.com

"Riddle me this."

A question-mark-shaped staff impacts the ground, it's point burying in the concrete.

"Everything in the world that you see, is simply a reflection of me. What am I?"

Black Mask's men won't have time to answer the disembodied query, as they are illuminated with a high-intensity magnesium flare focused in their direction.

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Sadly, the masks Roman makes his goons wear don't come with flare resistant lenses.

He really should look into that... And he might, once his vision clears.

"NYGMA!" Oh, no, he was not happy to see Eddie right now, despite their last bit of business having concluded on decent terms. Roman started firing wildly in the general direction the staff came from, and of course, if one person fires a gun, everyone fires. Sadly, neither Roman or his hired hands can see what they were shooting at.

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How, how, how did he know that this whole scene was going to end up in shots being fired?

Because it's Black Mask, who can't use the toilet without firing a gun at the ceramic, that's why.

Bruce turns toward Selina to mark her location quickly, and by the time he's turned back around, he sees at least two barrels pointed at them. At her. Instinct carries him between Black Mask's armory and the woman he once asked to marry.

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