2013.07.30 - Of Acrobats and Mutants

Bludhaven at night is like something out of a crime novel. The city doesn't have the financial backing of its sister (Gotham), nor the wealthy to-do families to poor in remodeling capital, so it is a borough on the decline. There are a few 'nicer' places, like the shopping districts tailored to the wealthy elite coming over from Gotham and Metropolis, but for the most part it is all slum as far as the eye can see.

The buildings are rotten husks of a former glory, but it's home. At least home to one vigilante who prowls the desolate streets come nightfall.

Nightwing's footfalls are barely audible even on the graveled roof across which he sprints. Down in the street a beat up sedan is roaring through the avenue with a trail of police cars in its wake. The air is occasionally awash with the sound of automatic gunfire from one of the two back windows as the passengers, all wearing skymasks, unload full clips into the cruisers behind them. One unlucky vehicles right tire is burst and sends it into a barely controlled stop.

Above it all, the former boy wonder runs and leaps across the alley between two buildings in a high vaulting double flip. He's back up to his feet at a dead run from a roll and working a grapler from off his thin utility belt as he nears the next intersection.

Bludhaven. Ugh. How did she get talked into coming all the way out here? Long story. Suffice to say that when the robbery went down, Cessily was across the street. In a fit of...heroism? Foolishness? Reflex? she'd rushed to the getaway car and dove under it. Which...is less crazy when you're liquid metal, but still isn't quite the makings of a plan. It's why the young mutant known as Mercury is hanging underneath the car as it careens along, hoping desperately she doesn't get sucked into an intake or scraped off when they hit a curb.

Nightwing isn't so lucky as that, but he's got a moves like Jagger... or at least like Batman.

The vehicle is cutting the law posse behind them nearly in half with quick rattlings of their weaponry from the back window. Another cop car is pulled up short with a couple of well placed shots right through the engine block and another's windshield is blasted in forcing the police officer inside to duck behind the steering wheel instead of being shot. His foot slams on the break and the wheel cuts so that the vehicle is in a side profile slide to protect himself, further limiting how much room the street provides for them behind him to follow.

That doesn't stop the vigilante up on the roofs.

He leaps right off the side of the building in a swan dive clutching the grapler in one hand as he slow rolls so that his feet are facing the pavement. As his momentum builds the line fires off and hooks into the lip of the roof across the street, slowing his descent enough that when he smashes into the roof of the vehicle, the bending of his knees is enough to absorb the rest of the shock.

The vehicle had just whipped out of a wide turn that forced it to slow enough that he's not immediately bucked off like a radio clown and small hooks snap out of his gauntlet to cut small holes in the thin metal to give him a better grip... for now the robbers are startled, but that wont last long.

Gunshots? You can hear those from anywhere, and Mercury can see the motion of the police vehicles behind them. The whole car jerks as Nightwing hits the roof. Ohmygosh! Mercury thinks. What's that? Maybe, just maybe, one of those famed Bludhaven vigilanties? Okay, now or never, Cess. While Nightwing comes down from the top, a metal ooze bubbles up through the floor of the car, forming a slick in the driver's well. It bubbles up and forms a pool underneath it and a hand emerges out of it, and pushes super hard on the brakes.

The confusion of Nightwing hitting the roof wears off pretty quick for the seasoned bankrobbers, but it is only a temporary reemergence of their wits until a bubbling ooze makes its way up from 'beneath' the vehicle into the driver cabin and presses the break hard enough to bring the car to a screeching hault.

The sudden loss of momentum throws Nightwing forward off his hooks and he hits the hood in a roll down to the grill of the vehicle, already moving when his black and blue armor his highlighted by the highbeams of the car. In one minute he's there, right in front of them, the next he's scrambling back onto the roof of the vehicle. The windshield shatters with startled hipfire, but they only hit air.

Black fingers curl around the open back window in a cross grip, Nightwing flipping over his shoulder, reversing in mid arch, and dive kicking right into the back seat. Smashing one goon into the one beside him.

His elbow smashes into one's ribs, his other hand pushing the barrel of the assault rife up against the roof, wrapping his palm flat, and sliding his fingers across the eject lever on the weapon to drop the kick down into the goons lap.

One of the two goons up front turns with a pistol and fires at the black and blue hero, who slides down into the backseat so the bullet hits the back cushion instead of his chest at close range.

The silver ooze wraps its way up the leg closest to the brake. It oozes and bubbles and flows, and gets underneath him, extending what seems like an arm to the door handle - it has to grope a few times, but finally finds it, yanking it and then ejecting the robber out onto the pavement as the silver silck forms into a person - a redheaded young woman, in fact.

That's new.

The robber sitting next to Mercury stares at the redhead now formed in the seat beside him... then points the pistol at her, "What the 'fuck' are you suppose to be?" Because that's way more sensible to shooting at her. At least for now.

Wouldn't want to miss the terminator.

Even Nightwing is taken aback by the sudden ejection of the robber who suddenly becomes a redhead.

It's momentary.

His hand chops straight across into the throat of the goon beside him while his foot wraps in and around the two men's legs. The chopping hand stabs straight down with straight fingers into the pressure point behind the the 'other's' knee. He screams, the other gurgles. Nightwing grabs the edge of the window and levers himself out with a twist, reaching back for one of his escrima sticks whirling out around his fingers as the recently ejected goon stands up fumbling for his weapon.

Hey! Just like in the simulations! People ask that in the simulations! Thus, Cessily's fully prepared with a quick and witty answer. "An X-Man," she answers without missing a beat. Her arm forms into a blunt club and she stends it hurtling into the passenger's face, aiming to knock him out.

The gunman mouths 'X-Man' over again because it really wasn't what he was expecting. Maybe he wasn't expecting anything? Maybe he expected her to whip out a photo of Edward Furlong and ask 'Have you seen this boy?'.

What he gets is wit and a mercury club to the face which does as designed and slumps him back into his seat with a nose gushing thick red blood. Likely broken. Almost certainly broken.

Nightwing, on the other hand, is dealing with things the old fashioned way. Stepping forward towards the second to last goon with his escrima stick whipping out and down into the man's knee with whistling force as the metal rod cuts through the air and connects with the ligament as he was putting his weight down upon it. It buckles like a house of cards in a tornado and sends him stumbling forward into a hoping round house kick aimmed right for the center of his chest. Between the force of the kick and the sudden shift in momentum, the goon is knocked right off his feet and falls hard onto the concrete. Hard enough to knock the window out of him.

Which just leaves two goons in the back. One whose still capable enough to fight, if in pain from having his pressure point stabbed, and one whose still holding his throat trying to force oxygen through it in long, hungry, gasps.

Which is cut short when the escrima hurtles in through the window from Nightwing in a sidearm toss. The flat end darts into the man's temple with a 'PLINK' of metal on skull and his gasping becomes quiet snorting.

Just one and he's got a gun pointed out at Nightwing in a wobbly hand.

Well a broken nose is hardly the worst of this guy's problems. Cessily shifts and straddles the center console, looking at the two in the back. Her arms lash out like silver tentacles, wrapping about the man with the gun's arm in coils, yanking hard and pulling him forward to slam against the back seat.

The man wash clearly watching the wrong one of the two, but maybe that was why Nightwing was crouching down holding the man's eyes like he was. Using himself as a distraction for when the silver threads cord around the goons wrist and yank him forward against the seat.

It's sort of satisfying. Actually, it's very satisfying. Nightwing leans into the back seat and takes up his thrown escrima stick and glances back out the vehicle at the glow of red and blue lights that are quickly closing the gap that was lost by the thieves weapon work.

"Can you get to the rooftops?" Jutting his chin up to one of the two buildings beside them. Pushing himself out of the vehicle, even with the man still groaning. Not like he's likely to be going anywhere now that Mercury has her... hands?... on him.

"When you're done playing with these schlubs, meet me up there."

Turning and firing another grapler at the roof to pull himself on the coiling wire and ultimately, to the roof.

Mercury doesn't get a chance to reply, watching Nightwing swoop up to the rooftops. There's a few moments where she stares, and then she looks at the schulbs. All are disabled through one mechanism or another, leaving the police to pull up and get close. Yup, time to jet. Cessily breaks into a run, into an alley behind Nightwing's chosen building. Her arms and legs stretch and she jumps for a window sill, melting into a slick that moves up along the wall and comes to the roof. It's admittedly not as fast as Nightwing's method. "Hello?" asks the newly reformed silver woman.

Nightwing vaults over the edge of the roof and slides his fingers back into his hair, then shakes out his fingers and hands and pops his neck. Always a bit of tension when getting into close combat like that, especially when the individuals have fully automatic weaponry. It's not something Batman would approve of letting someone see, however. So he waits until he's alone to shake the last of the 'nerves' and get on his best grin for when the silver lady appears.

And she finds Nightwing leaning against the brick stair access door with his arms crossed over his chest and all his pearly whites showing beneath the black domino mask with white washed eyes. "Fancy stuff you were just pulling down there." He says with genuine appreciation.

"Name's Nightwing."

"Mercury," Cessily says with a faint smile. She is not, in fact, in any form of costume. Denim skirt, pink top. Not that a domino mask would strictly hide what she is. "I've...heard of you," she says. "It's an honor!" she says. Cessily pauses and her head tilts down, to thes ide. "It's not much. I took some self-defense classes and..." she shrugs slightly. "It just seemed like I should help," she says, rather obviously trying to downplay things. "Did you actually fly onto the roof?"

"Hopefully I'm not ruining the rumors." Nightwing says with a smirk, never pushing off from his lean against the brick access, "And don't sell yourself short... Not a lot of people would have done what you did, even if they could."

When she says it's an honor, however, his smirk is replaced by an almost boyish grin. This is not the Batman at all.

"Fly? Sort of... tumbled is more like it." Motioning around with a casual glance around the rooftops, "It's a playground up here, if you know it well enough and know how to play on it. This is my home, so I'm good at both..." And back to Mercury, "So, are you knew the Bludhaven scene? I'm not saying the denim skirt/pink top look doesn't work for you... just that you might want to think about something a little less flashy." Clearly joking, one must hope.

Definitely not Batman, not that Cessily's ever met him. "No," she says, shaking her head. "I like to think they would. Maybe?" she says, trying to sound optimistic despite...quite a bit of evidence. "Some would, anyway. You do. You're...not a mutant...are you meta?" she asks. She'd sort of figured Nightwing was just human. He doesn't /look/ like a Mutant, at least. "Uh...no, I was in Gotham for work," she admits, "and I've got a cousin here so we caught coffee," she explains. A glance down. "I didn't plan ahead," she admits, risking a smile at Nightwing.

Nightwing snort laughs a little when she asks if he's a mutant or meta, "No, can't say that I am. Just a guy in armor." said with a wrap of his knuckles against the nomax plates linked on his chest. "People say I bleed, but... those hossers aren't likely to make it happen." Thumbing back over his shoulder at the 'goons'.

"Huh.." When she explains why she's here, though he does match her smile with one of his own. Easy one too, like they just come natural to him. His hand comes up to slip his fingers back through his short hair, pushing it down with the sweat the little 'work out' built up. "Well, I'd say be careful out here, but I'd probably be telling the wrong one... might better let the criminals know THEY should be careful." Maybe he winked, who the hell knows with that mask on.

"So.. I take it you 'are' a mutant? I've known a few metas, none that could do what you just did."

Nightwing likely knows he's charming. Cessily /knows/ he probably knows. Maybe. It doesn't keep her from being charmed, not in the least. Cessily laughs faintly and clasps her hands behind her back, swaying and nodding. "You couldn't tell?" she asks, daring to hope that maybe he couldn't. She doesn't reflect as much at night. "You probably need to be more careful than I do. You're the actual hero!" she declares. Cessily frowns a bit as she considers his other comment. "I'm just a bad shapeshifter, is all. It's not like I'm a master of disguise."

Well, Nightwing knows that people are often charmed by him, but he might well argue weither he was actually all that charming... It's a strange tale.

Still, he laughs easily and cants his head, "Honestly?" Beat pause, "Nope, couldn't tell." Sure, he's not being honest, but he's not being honest while grinning. So...

"Eh, hero is such a funny term. If you asked the police, I'm a menace and barely above a criminal myself. But I appreciate your concern. I do endeavour not to protect myself as much as possible... I have a powerful addiction to living, you see." Another pause and another shake of his head with a slight grin, "There you go selling yourself short again. I've got a friend, Beast Boy... he use to say the same thing. Wasn't anymore true with him than it is in this situation... besides which, it isn't 'what' your abilities are, but how you use them... and you just jumped into the middle of a very dangerous situation to stop those guys from causing anymore harm... I'd say that was heroic."

Cessily snorts, rolls her eyes. "You were distracted," she says, giving him an out for his lack of observation, "with armed robbers. Serious business, for somebody with a life addiction. I dunno, I'd say you care about other things more. You /could/ just be hanging out at home watching Jeopardy with your girlfriend or something," she says. The metal girl unclasps her hands and says, "I guess it was a bit, huh? Not like fighting Galactus or the Joker or anything, though. Why do people even rob banks anyway? They don't have that much money anymore."

"Totally distracted." Nightwing says with a bob of his head and a smirk on his face beneath the mask. One hand comes up to touch his pinky just beneath his left eye at which he laughs quietly and looks out towards the sounds of cops reading someone their rights down in the street beneath them. "Well, yeah, but I'm terrible at jeopardy. Also, I don't have a girlfriend. Well..." His hand wiggles, then he's snapping his head around to face her again.

"No, not quite like fighting the Joker at all. That would have been different... and he's loose." As if the mention of the clowns name might well summon him. "So be careful. Some things are better left off the 'tour list' when coming to Gotham and he's one of them... As for banks and robbery?" A shrug and a return of his smirk, "It's been my experience that criminals are generally pretty stupid. Not all of them... but these guys? Classy bunch, sure.. access to serious hardware, okay... but smart? I wouldn't bet on them having high S.A.T. scores, that's all I'm sayin'."

Ah-hah! At least to herself. Cessily's smiling, getting that insight, that telling 'well...' from a complete stranger. A stranger in a mask, no less. She's not about to pin him on it, and so the mutant legs her arms swing back ot her sides, nodding politely. "You see what I mean, though," she says, and hummms. "I heard that. I hope they catch him soon. I can't understand it...it's like people who enjoy hurting other people, I don't get them," she says. She turns and goes to the ledge, looking down at the crime scene, where the police are wrapping up their work. "Makes it seem kind of sad," she observes.

Nightwing caught it himself and was secretly glad the conversation changed without her, at least, outwardly saying she caught it as well. So instead of dwelling, he steps to the ledge and looks down on the scene where cops are bagging up the badguys into their cruisers in handcuffs. Both arms crossed over his chest, his expression is a bit darker now, a bit more distant. The 'boyish' quality is long gone.

"He's complicated." Nightwing says of the Joker. No mistaking the disgust in his voice or the sadness. Whatever history the Bats have with the clown, it is deep and deeply rooted. "Sometimes I worry that we created him. That... people like that... when they get and outlet, one like 'us'.." motioning to himself and to her as well, "...well they follow suit. They put on flashy costumes and they come up with a gimmick. It's like action and reaction."

Chuckling quietly and shaking his head, "Sorry. You'd think I'd never met anyone who wasn't from Gotham."

"If you haven't met a mutant..." Cessily says. Her girlishness remains, hanging on her words and posture, obscuring a harder core that flashes, now and agin, the small beginning seeds of bitterness in a yougn life. "How different is it from the people who created Magneto?" she asks. "People create their own monsters," she says. "That's what Frankenstein was all about," she rubs the back of her neck. "At least that's what we talked about in lit class." The silver girl turns and faces Nightwing again, "I should let you get back to your...patrol?" she says. "I don't think there's anything more to do down there."

"No, they're exactly the same." Nightwing agrees with a nod. It is the business of the Bats to know the rumors and a great many of the facts, even about things that don't 'outwardly' concern them; such as the mutant terrorist Magneto. "Yes, I probably should." He notes the hard core, if only in the slight twitches of her face when she mentioned the mutant fanatical leaders name, "And you didn't come to Gotham to stand on a roof having your ear talked off by a vigilante." At which point he steps back and reaches for one of his graplers and finds his grin somewhere to plaster back upon his face beneath the mask. "It was nice meeting you, Mercury. If you're ever in Gotham again, look up... at.. nevermind, I couldn't make that joke work." Snickering and turning towards the far end of the roof.

Prepared to dart off and head back onto a long night of patrol.

"It wasn't bad," Cessily says as Nightwing rishes off. "I will!" she calls, moments before realizing how terrible that sounds and hoping it got lost in the sounds of the night.