JLA Watchtower (Archive)

"You run a pretty cool joint in here, Penguin." Captain Cold is of course referring to the classiness of the Lounge as well as the temperature. But it is cold enough to make him keep his parka on. "Looks like that diamond operation out of Albania is paying off well for you."

Cold raises a glass of whatever beer he's drinking (he guesses it's Belgian), and downs it. "Usually I reserve myself to a brew from Keystone, but I don't mind a cold one from the Europeans. They do make a fine beer."

He keeps his eyes on the squat figure on the private balcony with him. "You're awful quiet, Oswald." He's worked with him for the last couple of years. Informality shows how trusting the two have become. "What's on your mind?"

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Captain Cold knows his beers. Cobblepot has always respected that about him.

Oswald takes a cautious sip of his own martini, casting another glance down at his clientele below. Innocent chicks, laughing and reveling, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing all around them.

From his breast pocket, Oswald withdraws a coin, holding it up for his guest to see and turning it slowly to the other side.

The scarred, mutilated visage on the other side makes it plain who this coin belongs to.

"A great deal of tension is gathering in Gotham, and I am in the position of being directly in the center of it. Even as we speak, Harvey is having a messy shootout with Roman Sionis, the Black Mask. Nasty business. I understand that Nygma and Crane are involved as well. No matter how that ends, business will be rough for the next few weeks. Madman though he may be, Roman's power over the cartels is not easily revoked. Whether Harvey intends to take the reins himself should he kill Black Mask, only Harvey himself knows."

Studying the martini, Oswald grins wryly. Yes, he knows of the exsanguination murders. But Oswald Cobblepot is a respectable businessman. He has met many 'freaks' in his time, and not one of them was a vampire. He puts little stock in Firefly's ravings.

Fortunately for them both, Len's cartel connections are not necessarily restricted to Gotham.

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"That's something I've never really understood about you guys in Gotham." He takes another swig, and raises his arm to wipe his mouth. "You're always fighting one another, always switching allegiances, or just totally batshit crazy."

He leans back. "Central and Keystone have something of a pecking order, but we're more organised as well. Less uncontrollable psychopaths. When one shows up, we put him or her down. Not that I've been there in years..."

"Mardon, that's Weather Wizard; he's been in control of the Rogues since I started working out of the country. The last time I heard anything from them, I understood they pretty much have freedom to commit any crimes. The Flash just isn't about so much."

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"Perhaps a change of venue is in order." remarks Cobblepot thoughtfully. "Once, years ago, there was a pecking order here in Gotham. My usual associates, colorful though they might be, can be counted upon to act a certain way. Men like Harvey, Nygma, and Crane... oh, you know them as Two-Face, Riddler, and Scarecrow, of course, have a certain rhythm and a bit of honor among rogues, such as the case may be." He pauses briefly, admiring his own pun.

"It's these damn upstarts who are ruining it for all of us. Roman is the most visible but he is hardly the only one. They run the streets, a new generation of upstarts with no respect for the cops or us. If only my compatriots would show such initiative in dispensing of them, but then, Gotham has never been a unified front. I love this city dearly, but sometimes it is hard to recognize."

The maître d', a tall, thin man in sharp black, approaches the table, setting down a tray with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. The tophat he wears and the dim lighting cast his face entirely into shadow, but Penguin doesn't seem too bothered.

"Thank you, Milbury." he remarks carelessly. The maître d' lifts his head, and for just a moment, his eyes can be seen, piggish and red, sunken into his gaunt face.

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"You employ an odd looking waiting service, Oswald. This guy looks half-dead." He grabs the bottle of brandy and starts to pour two glasses. A shot for the Penguin, half a pint of it for Cold.

"Maybe you're working 'em too hard. Don't you give 'em paid leave or something?" He swishes the brandy around his glass. Looking up, the maitr'd is still stood there. "You can go away now."

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The tall man turns to leave...

Then spins around and lunges for the Penguin, pushing the heavy table aside at Cold like it weighs nothing.

The tophat falls from his head, revealing an inhuman face and jagged teeth.

Teeth on a collision course with Oswald Cobblepot's throat.

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The Penguin's sordid past has left him with a certain knowledge of confrontation, for good or for ill, but never in all his encounters with Batman has he encountered a foe this... this savage.

He brings up the umbrella blade, forced to use it as a shield to hold back the snarling serviceman.

Cobblepot has a reputation for being a miser, but he never thought he'd treated one of his employees this badly.

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Captain Cold is fast enough to dodge the incoming table, and draws one of his blasters as he rolls to the side. In a second he's adjusted the setting to fire a thin beam so as not to spray a cone of absolute zero over both the waiter and the Penguin.

Still... "Get down, Oswald. I've got a clear shot but if you keep flappin'..." He holds the gun steady, but waits for the Penguin to dive to the ground before firing.

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Cobblepot is no fighter. He's more than willing to let Len take care of this... whatever it is. It's definitely not one of his people.

Taking cover behind the overturned table, Penguin looks below and sees a terrible sight.

The Iceberg Lounge is in chaos. He counts six, seven, no, eight of the monsters, attacking his patrons almost simultaneously. Screams erupt throughout the Lounge, as patrons begin running for their lives.

And then, the skylight shatters, and a dark form Penguin has seen too many times land nimbly amidst the carnage.

He's never been so happy to see Batman.

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The vampire turns its attention from Oswald to Leonard as the Penguin dives for cover. It hisses, exposing the razor-sharp teeth that fill its maw, and leaps at Captain Cold, heedless of the cold gun he has trained on it.

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"Your mistake." Cold pulls the trigger and lets loose a shot of cold power that's of a low enough temperature to freeze a flame in place. It encases the rushing vampire in a matter of seconds, freezing it in mid-running pose.

And then he turns and sees Batman. Batman. "Ah, crap." The first thought that goes through his head is that he should take this opportunity to escape, but the Penguin's been a good employer and one shouldn't cut oneself off from a source of reliable income without a failsafe. Right now, he doesn't have one.

"Get to the exit, Penguin. I'll see off this Dusk Till Dawn crapola until you're outta the door, then I'm right behind you." He pulls his second blaster free.

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Oswald doesn't need to be told twice. He's already heading for the secret alleyway entrance, the one he had built into the Lounge specifically in anticipation of the need for a quick exit.

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"Great." Len was hoping that at least a few of these creatures would be distracted enough by the fleeing Penguin that his workload may become slightly lighter, but no, they appear to be letting him leave quite happily. More work for him. More Batman for him.

And Robin. "Ah, crap." The second time he's said that tonight. But then he notices Batman and Robin fighting, and the weird contortions to this Bat's body and face.

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A few of the patrons dumb enough to try fighting instead of fleeing cheer as Batman lands in their midst, certain they are saved.

But that hope turns to horror when, instead of attacking the nearest vampire, Batman grabs the closest patrom, a buxom blonde, and bends his head to her neck. Her scream is abruptly silenced, and the corpse he drops to the ground is pale and bloodless.

This Batman is no savior. He is the leader of the vampires, and a ripple of terror floods through those unlucky souls who haven't yet been able to run.

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A batarang cuts through the scream-ripped air, embedding deeply in the vampiric doppelganger's back.

And then Robin is the air, swinging in through the hole the Batman vampire made, staff already extended as he lands.

It hasn't been the best week for him. Tonight he's going to make up for it a little.

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Time to kill two birds with one stone. "Sorry kid." Captain Cold unleashes a wide arc of absolute zero from his two blasters, aiming it in the general direction of the false Batman and the kid dressed as Robin. The ice should slow them down, if it doesn't kill them. He doesn't have much time to care, as another vampire comes barrelling into him.

Cold is knocked to the ground and then through the balcony. With a groan he lands on a few patrons, and doesn't take the time to apologise as he sees one of the vampires falling down towards him. "Get lost, punk."

*SSSZZZZIIINNNGGG*

A dome of ice so thick it could be an igloo erects over Captain Cold, and he grins as he hears the thud of the vampire hitting the roof.

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The vampire shrugs off his blows and grabs Robin by the throat, and he's struggling against it when suddenly everything below his waist just goes numb. Astonishingly, the vampire's grip loosens, and Robin recoils as he sees ice rising over it's body.

Fuck, where'd Mr. Freeze come from? And where'd he go?

Robin has little time to worry about that. He has a few seconds before he's frozen too. Hands go to his utility belt, thanking the Bat gods he learned the paranoia of Bruce Wayne well. Out come the cryo capsules, specialized devices created specifically by Batman in the event of being frozen.

The capsules do their work quickly, freeing his legs, and he's quick to get away from the vampire Batman, lest it might be thawed as well. And it is thawed... up to it's knees. The rest of it remains on ice, and aside from kicking weakly, the vampire is still incapacitated.

Robin looks around, spots an ice igloo. Bingo.

He'll worry about why Freeze is working with vampires later. Staff raised, he goes after the next one, a hulking brute of a vampire clawing at a woman barricaded in the kitchen.

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The vampire has somewhat heightened senses, and even the stealthy movement of Tim Drake is picked up by the monster. He whirls on the spot and strikes out with an elongated, sharpened claw, intent on raking Robin's face from his skull.

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Robin's handy with his staff, and it's probably the only thing that saves his life.

Up comes the rod, parrying the incoming claw just in the nick of time, though the vampire's strength threatens to knock the staff from his hands altogether.

There's no way he can fight it hand-to-hand. In close quarters, the vampire will rip him to shreds. He takes a step back, attempting to sweep the vampire's feet out from under it.

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The vampire is far too fast for that. He leaps deftly into the air over the quarterstaff, and bowls into the body of the Boy Wonder, howling with joy as he raises his claws to start ripping at the the young hero.

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Cold knocks a block of ice free from his makeshift igloo, and sees the battle raging around him. "Oh, Christ..." Kicking another block out, he slides from underneath the structure and sees the vampire attacking Robin.

It's simple math, really. Try and run, and get potentially eviscerated by one of these nasty critters. Side with the guy you know won't kill you, and stand a better chance of living to fight another day. 1+1=2. Or something.

"Hey, asshole!" He fires off a blast of cold power towards the vampire attacking Robin, hopefully allowing the hero to escape the immediate danger.

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The vampire's a lot stronger than Robin, and his body armor can only protect him from so much. The situation is looking particularly grim, and then, just as the vampire is reaching for his throat, it jerks, blasted in the back. Dropping Robin, it turns to face the new attacker, allowing Robin to see for the first time his unlikely ally. And, to his great surprise, it's not Mr. Freeze.

Robin opens his mouth to ask who the newcomer is but thinks better of it. Now really isn't the time. And he sees a vampire poised on the balcony above the man, ready to leap down on him while he's distracted.

"Watch out!"

The Boy Wonder flings a bola batarang, intending to trip the vampire up and keep it from doing more than crashing to the ground next to Cold. At the same time, he's reaching for a different sort of batarang, hoping that the old adage about vampires being vulnerable to light has some truth to it.

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Cold dives out of the way of the falling vampire, and is then temporarily blinded by the flash of intense light that emanates from Robin's second batarang. The vampires fare worse; some of them rolling on the ground clutching their eyes, clearly under the impression that they've been exposed to daylight.

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Robin doesn't waste time on the vampires. He runs straight to Cold, just in case run of them might have managed to shut its eyes in time.

He has no idea who the man is but he looks vaguely familiar. Not especially threatening, though, and he helped him before, so Robin has no reason to believe he's anything but well-meaning.

"C'mon, I don't know how long they'll be blinded by that." He eyes the man's gun briefly, but thinks better of it. He'll recover his sight soon enough.

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Captain Cold does a double-take, but realises that clearly this boy doesn't recognise him from adam. Figures. You go away for a few years and suddenly even the *heroes* forget about you. That will have to be corrected at some point, but right now? "Yeah, whatever. I'll freeze the entire place into a glacial block while you keep the pathway to the front door clear."

"If any civvies get caught in the ice they should be able to get thawed out without suffering from anything except mild hypothermia." And possible brain damage from having oxygen cut off, but hey, you can't make an omelette...

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"Right." Robin agrees, turning with quarterstaff in hand.

He's got more cryo capsules on hand for any stray Gothamites who might get frozen. But Cold's dismissive attitude towards the innocents does not go unnoticed. He makes a mental note to ask this guy a few questions after they get out of here.

Right now, though? 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.'

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Cold unleashes a blast of ice cold air, spreading the beam across the entire interior of the nightclub. He doesn't notice the vampire that was somehow clinging onto the ceiling above him before it leaps down and cuts him nastily across the face.

"You sonofabitch!" Snart turns the cold gun onto full power, and aims it at the vampire's head. In a matter of seconds the monster falls to the ground, and Cold brings his foot down onto its face, shattering the skull into small shards of ice.

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Robin whirls at his unlikely ally's yell, ready to help, but Cold has already dispatched his attacker.

Whoever he is, he's good. Robin's going to have to find out who he is once this is all over.

"Are you all right?" He returns to Cold's side, quickly assessing his injury. Mostly superficial. Fortunately, the vampires don't seem to be able to pass on their curse - otherwise both of them would have been turned already.

Holding his quarterstaff in front of him defensively, Robin looks around, noting with growing suspicion that their attackers seem to be gone. It can't be that simple...

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"Fine." Cold wipes the blood running down his face away with the back of his sleeve, staining his blue parka and turning part of the arm a nice purple colour.

"Listen, kid. You're all right, as far as capes go. I'm going to just walk straight out of here and out of your crackpot city back to where vampires aren't runnin' around. Okay?" Cold keeps his gun in his hand, just in case.

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Robin barely hears him. He's scanning the Lounge and realizing for the first time - where the hell is Cobblepot?

"I've gotta go find the Penguin. The police'll be here soon. There don't seem to be any of the vamps left but keep an eye on the survivors just in case." He's gone at that, heading towards the back doors Oswald Cobblepot ran through, having no time to consider the idea that the new face who helped him might do anything but just what he asked of him.

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As Robin turns his back, Cold is tempted to blast him with his gun, and levels it at the Boy Wonder.

"Screw it." With the hero gone through the back door, Captain Cold heads out of the front and away from the scene of the crime.

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Panting from the quick getaway, the Pengun slams the door behind him, stepping out from the Iceberg Lounge and into the adjoining alleyway.

Oswald Cobblepot is not a stupid man and has prepared for any number of retribution attempts from any number of men he has betrayed. But vampires are simply not a threat he listed in his purview. Where did they come from? Who could possibly be after him?

Well, whoever it is, the Penguin will find him. And he'll be sure to have pull that man's fingernails off with rusty pliers for this indignity.

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jla-extras.livejournal.com

"Hey Cobblepot." a voice calls to Oswald from the shadows of the alleyway.

"Something ruffle your feathers?"

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Not him. It can't be him.

Oswald Cobblepot has trafficked with a wide variety of criminals and has rubbed elbows with everyone from the Condiment King to Two-Face. In his long career, he has run into very few villains he can say he honestly fears. Some of them are powerful but have no powerbase with which to harm him, like Bane. Others have power but he has cultivated enough of a working relationship with them, like the Joker. And some he just knows he can outsmart. Roman Sionis was one.

But this man... this is a man Cobblepot has only met once, a man Cobblepot only knows by reputation. A man who is said to have fought the entire Justice League to a standstill, a man who is said to have come within a hair's width of killing Superman.

This man is completely out of Penguin's league. Him and anyone who's ever worked for him.

"Prometheus?"

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prometheanplans.livejournal.com

"You got it, Ozzie." grins Prometheus, stepping into full view.

"And I brought a friend, too."

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