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A Mugging Gone Wrong
Rplog-icon Who: Kwabena Odame and Catwoman
Where: Downtown Gotham City
When: Late evening
Tone: Gritty
What: Kwabena Odame lures Selina Kyle into an unfortunate situation, but it turns out far differently than he'd intended.



After last night Selina had every intention of staying home and giving herself time to heal but Isis made it painfully aware that she was out of her favorite wet food and was not about to be sated by dry alone, making it necessary for her to go out. Thankfully the pet store she buys Her Royal Highness' supplies from is not too far from her place and the trip there didn't even necessitate a cab... although by the time she gets to the store, finishes shopping for the cat food (and a few gifts for Isis to make up for not having been home for almost a week) and gets out her leg is positively on fire. "Damnit," she grumbles at herself while gimping over to the curb, a hand raised as she tries to flag down a passing taxi.


From a shadowy place nearby the pet store, Kwabena Odame watches the woman as she walks into the pet store... and takes an uncomfortably long time to do her shopping. However, he'd learned to be patient. With the hood draped over his head and the darkness helping to conceal his naturally dark face, he waits with practiced patience, the only sign of a nervous tick in the way his fingers gently scrawl at each other. When at long last she emerges, a thin and crooked smile crawls across his face. Cupping his hand against his mouth, he fantastically mimics the howling of an injured cat, while throwing his voice down the alley way and away from the street where Selina waits.


The cry. It's not a sound Selina's unfamiliar with and her heart strings get tugged upon immediately. Frowning, she looks in the direction she thinks it comes from and then starts to head that way. "Here kitty," she calls out while the alley's entered, her tone kept soothing. Soft. "Come here, baby." She's already expecting the worst and steels herself for whatever she might see. An injured cat? Starving? The possibilities of what might be are numerous and she feels her heart start to pound.


Ever one for the long con, Kwabena mews a pained response, while gently lifting a rock with his foot and tossing it down the dark alley. It soars silently through the air, then strikes the ground nearby where he has been intentionally throwing his voice, effectively mimicking the sound of scuffling paws. Then he goes quiet and steels himself away in the shadows, waiting until she draws closer.


Okay. That is not good. The sound is definitely of a hurt cat and it compells Sel into hurrying. Or at least as much as she's able to while hurt. The scuffled sound is matched by the sound of her gait, her one leg slightly dragged behind her as the muscle seizes up. Oh hell. Hopefully she can find the cat and get it to the emergency vet before her leg stops wanting to work entirely.


Kwabena draws in a slow breath to prepare himself. Then, he produces a pistol from beneath his hooded sweatshirt and emerges from his hiding place. When he speaks, it is with a heavily accented African dialect. There is a threat in his voice, but it is somewhat subdued, spoken quietly and with a strange sort of duality, as if warning her not to do anything foolish, while also guaranteeing her ultimate safety. "Don't say a word, kitten." He advances upon her, weapon aimed directly at her face. "Empty your pockets, quickly!"


Oh. Crap. Heaving a sigh, Selina looks over to where the man is, her eyes narrowed slightly as she regards him as much as the situation is taken in. "Look, I hurt," she points out at the same time her fists are raised, the bag she had in the one dropped to her feet, "my cat is waiting for me to come home and feed her and I am in need of a drink and some sleep. I refuse to let you ruin my night by you deciding you want to rob me." He really won't get much out of her if he does succeed as she didn't bring her purse with her and almost all of the money she brought with her has been spent on Isis' food and toys. He'll probably be very disappointed. After all of what she has to say has gotten out she reaches out at the same time she gingerly leaps forward, looking to disarm him.


"Do you think I give a-" Kwabena starts to say, but when she leaps forward, he growls with surprise and twirls the weapon around in his hand, surprisingly, until the barrel is pointed at himself. He slips back and ducks toward the ground while looking to swipe the stiff handle of the gun against her injured leg.

That's when a gunshot rings out into the air, but surprisingly, it hasn't come from Kwabena's weapon. There's a flash of light down the alley away from the street and an echoing crack, before two men who look much more like legitimate thugs than Selina's attacker appear from the shadows. Both of them have dirty sneers on their faces, with missing teeth and ugly marks on their faces.

"Well, looky what we have here!" one leers. "A domestic dispute!"

Drawing back his attack, Kwabena backpedals into a wall and makes to spin the gun around until it's facing their new visitors. "Put it down," he warns.


The struggle interrupted, Selina glances past the dumpsters and trash towards the source of the newest sound, the sight of the new threat getting her to frown. "Hey," she whispers towards the very same man who was about to try and rob and possibly assault her, not bothering to take notice of how he's pressing himself against the building as if scared, "I'm injured here, as you could probably tell. I can't take these guys out by myself because of that fact. You help me out here and I'll forget that you were about to try and... well, you know." The dirty looking thugs are watched the entire time she speaks, sized up just before she's on the move again, going to kick one in the 'jewels'.


Kwabena looks over toward Selina for a moment, then back to the thugs. He rolls his eyes somewhat, then pushes away from the wall. "Yeah, okay," he mutters. He creeps up toward her side, then whispers something back. "There's just one problem, sweetheart. This gun's not loaded."

Meanwhile, the thugs keep advancing upon them, leering and making mocking noises. However, when Selina makes her move, Kwabena gasps and leaps into the air, shoving her out of the way. It's a good thing too, for the moment she made her move, the second thug whipped out a gun, and both of them started shooting. The bullets rip through the air, and a moment before they strike Kwabena, his eyes go wide with an understandable level of fear. However, when the bullets strike his body, they seem to pass right through him, leaving behind tendrils of smoke and holes in his hooded sweatshirt.

Unphased, Kwabena tackles one of the thugs to the ground, and begins wrestling with him. He discards his own weapon, so that he can grapple with the loaded one in the thug's hand.


Good thing she's pushed out of the way as it means she won't be shot for a second time in two days. But being pushed like she is she falls and Selina lands right on the sore spot. The stitches hold, although barely, but there's undoubtedly going to be some bleeding. Frowning, she merely watches, curled up some with her arms over her head, the way the guy who just saved her... "What the hell?" She's expecting to have to call 911 or something but he seems to be alive and not only alive but still able to fight. This... why can't her life stop being so damn strange!?


Kwabena seems to find a sudden surge of adrenaline. Growling, he overcomes his attacker and bats the thug's gun away, before grappling his head and bashing it into the street, knocking him out. Still crouched over the defeated thug, he turns around to address his second opponent.

Instead, he finds a gun in his face.

"Okay, I give up," Kwabena says, and slowly raises his hands into the air. "Okay?"

However, before anything else can happen, the thug pulls his trigger... at point blank range. Had there been any question that Selina may have just met one of the mutants, those questions would go right out the door. The crack of light splashes against Kwabena's face, and when it does, his entire head seems to melt into a cloud of black smoke. The bullet rips right through the gas and pelts into the brick wall nearby, leaving a thin tendril of smoke that draws itself back into the cloud before it once again re-forms into Kwabena's face.

The thug's jaw drops, and he falls onto his arse in shock. "Wh... wh... what...!" he sputters.


"I think you should go now," Selina announces abruptly from where she struggles to get onto her feet, her eyes clenched tight, face pale from pain. "Go now," she repeats. Regardless if Thug #1 and Thug #2 do as she tells them she looks like she's about to leave herself and even goes as far as to gather up the discarded bag and whatever might've fallen out of it, her eyes held to Kwabena by the time she's finished. Part of her feels a bit guilty for wanting to leave and it's that guilt that keeps her still, her expression wary and tired.


Kwabena stares at the shocked thug, glowering with frustration. When the thug doesn't move, he raises his voice into a bellow.

"GO!"

Thug #2 gasps and scampers away, running out of the alley at a bold sprint.

Frantically, Kwabena turns back to Thug #1, who is still out cold on the ground, and rummages through his clothes until he comes up with a wallet and a phone. He rips the wallet open and takes out the cash, then comes up on Selina with his arm outstretched toward her, cash in hand. "Take it and get out of here," he spits. "Don't follow me, don't talk about me, just go!" His eyes are wild with anger, but there is also apology and a speedy desperation. Sirens can be heard in the distance, and they draw his eyes away briefly, before returning to the woman. He hisses out of frustration before making to grab at her arm. "Come on, I will help, but we must go, now!" His accent may be heavy, but he's grown accustomed to the English language, and at least has the good faith to avoid slurring his syllables.


"I don't need the damn money. Keep it... you obviously need it if you're willing to try and rob me to begin with..." Selina looks at Kwabena curiously; some people would be afraid of him after what they just witnessed but she looks sad. For him. "I can get to a cab on my own, but thanks." Her leg is stiffened up to the point where she just can not move it at all, the entire length of her upper leg from her backside down to the back of her knee, making bending the joint impossible. Despite her refusal of help she grabs his arm and uses him as a crutch of sorts, someone to lean on as they hurry out towards the street. "Flag me down a cab," she 'commands', not bothering to be polite.


"I'm sure you can," remarks Kwabena with a heavy bit of sarcasm as she takes his arm and uses his strength for help. He shrugs off his hooded sweatshirt, revealing a surprisingly clean and plain button down shirt, and a proper hat on his head to fend off the cold breeze that takes Gotham's downtown streets while also conveniently concealing his braided cornrows. He hurries with her toward the face of the alleyway, but as soon as they are visible to the street, he immediately slows down and adopts a casual pace. "Please be casual," he requests, before stepping out into the street and confidently flagging down a taxi. As the car pulls up, he looks back to the woman with an indecisive look. He looks down the street, where the flashing of police lights splash against the buildings, then down the other way, where he might have dashed off to freedom.

Instead, he opens the front door for her, helps her in, then immediately hops into the back, all with a scowl on his face. "Take us to a hospital," he requests, while sticking a $50 bill up toward the driver. "No questions."


Selina rolls her eyes and shakes her head, pulling out the last few bills she has. She gives the cab driver an address that's a block from the building where her penthouse can be found. "I am sure you and I will see each other again," she points out, looking behind her via peering over her shoulder. "I appreciate the help -" even if it did come on the heel of his trying to do the very same thing the other thugs attempted, "- but I have to get home. Don't worry, though. I have access to a doctor." She's talking about One, the medic who patched her up the other day, but even if he isn't available there's always Leslie's clinic.


The driver snatches the $50 out of Kwabena's hand with a smirk. "No questions, aye." Of course, when Selina directs him to take a different route, he obliges.

Kwabena looks back at Selina when she turns to peer at him. He meets her eyes for but a moment before looking away, hiding his shame with a frown. "You are, huh?" he answers. "What makes you think so?" He looks back toward her, glowering at her with his differently colored eyes. "Nevermind, hey? Don't thank me. I tried to mug you." He shakes his head, again, then reaches up to pat the cab driver on the shoulder. "Let me out here," he demands, pointing at the nearest corner.


The look on Selina's face is mildly amused. 'Sure, go ahead and remind me of what you tried to do,' is what the expression all but screams. Still, she shrugs and turns away when the cab stops and Kwabena is allowed out. "Never know. This is Gotham. Stranger stuff has happened," she intones with a sigh. "Either way... take care." That's the last she says, the would-have-been robber allowed to leave, Selina having hit her limit. She'll be lucky to put in a call to one of the medical types she knows before falling into bed in an exhausted pile.


Kwabena opens the door to let himself out. However, there he falters, and suddenly leans up between the two headrests in the front seat. "Listen to me," he urges her, the words sounding just a bit funny with his thick Ghanaian accent. "Be a bit more careful with dark alleys! And for Christ's sake, don't go running into them just because you hear some dying animal!" He pokes her in the shoulder twice. "You're too pretty for that kind of stupid nonsense, do you hear me?" He backs away quickly and reaches for the door, so that he might let himself out for real. "And don't say a word about what you saw back there. I don't need Big Brother coming down on me for something I can't damn well control. You just keep your pretty mouth shut!" He throws open the door and makes to leave.

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