DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Exotic Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: VoluptuousVixen on 11-11-2015, 03:56:10</h2>
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				Title: <strong>DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>VoluptuousVixen</strong> on <strong>11-11-2015, 03:56:10</strong>
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				&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;(https://photo3.ask.fm/421/863/733/-329996978-1t3h0rb-d3drochh6510k45/original/avatar.jpg)&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; (http://cs627228.vk.me/v627228355/3dc6/2pI67rHuoUo.jpg)<br><br>S.T.A.R labs is the foremost research facility in the United States, having three now across the city the founding laboratory in Central City&nbsp; (which was closed for building violation's in 2009) a second smaller facility in Metropolis and finally the largest facility in Gotham city that was funded by Lex luthor and Harrison Wells.&nbsp; 
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>11-11-2015, 13:10:10</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.eklettica.com/pictures/Illustrations/deathstroke1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:15<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><hr><br>Getting in? That was easy. Almost depressingly so, in fact, even for a man of <em>his</em> unique and not-inconsiderable skill; given that the S.T.A.R Labs in Gotham was the biggest of the three facilities, was the most advanced research centre in the country - and, officially speaking, the world - and housed some of the most dangerous and deadly weapons known to man and even some not known to man, he would have thought that even he would have struggled a little bit to break in so efficiently, but....apparently not. As always, no matter how good your security system was, it needed human oversight to make judgement calls on unique, unforeseen scenarios and to provide a "critical eye" on proceedings...though artificial intelligence was making leaps and bounds in recent years, it wasn't yet at the level where it could effectively replace human security guards or mechanics, and even if it could, the humans - wisely, in Deathstrokes opinion - wouldn't trust it to do so without turning against them. Whether through Artificial Greed or disgruntlement or even just a glitch in the system, computers shouldn't be trusted to monitor computers; there should always be a human standing over it, ready to pull the plug, just in case. So, obviously, instead of trying to hack into the outer doors and risk being discovered, he had simply attacked the weak link; the external security guards. He hadn't killed them, of course - he had been hired for a simple burglary, and though he had no issue with killing, adding murder on top of theft just added a whole new level of heat that he didn't particularly feel like dealing with; if the burglar also killed several people, the manhunt would be much, much more intense and though he would eventually escape like he always did, it would be far more trouble than it was worth - and had only knocked them out with a variety of blows and holds. They would wake up in several hours with a headache and possibly without a job, but they were alive if nothing else. <br><br>Meanwhile, of course, he had their security keys. See, every guard needs to get into the building after Lockdown somehow, and that's the weak link in any security system; steal how the guards get in to the main foyer, and you have access to the entire building! The vaults and the internal doors and the offices and the labs and whatnot would obviously have a fingerprint scanner and a voice recognition module and all that high-tech jazz, but at the end of the day, the doors to reception could only ever be accessed via keycard due to the likely high level of turnover that they had in regards to security guards in Gotham. It's a high risk job anyway, but he looked into it....security guards and Rent-a-cops in Gotham had a <em>far</em> lower life expectancy than in - for example - Metropolis or Central City. It was <em>Gotham,</em> after all. Even by todays standards, with all the superheroes and supervillains running around, Gotham seemed to get the worst of the worst in every sense of the word, and despite himself, he did actually feel a little bit sorry for the residents. He had been in town for a matter of days, and he <em>already</em> couldn't wait to leave. The food was depressing, the housing was bleak, the weather was atrocious and the criminals were all batshit insane even by <em>his</em> considerable standards. Even some of the <em>Heroes</em> they had bordered on supervillain, which has to be terrifying if you lived in a run-down area which, to be fair, was most places that weren't Gotham Heights. And even Gotham Heights had it's somewhat depressing, oppressive-feeling areas, so the "posh" area of town really wasn't that posh anyway. But anyway...he digressed. He had entered the foyer with little difficulty and managed to subdue the security guard inside with little to no effort and quickly stashed the body in the utility cupboard nearby; he wouldn't have bothered, but he couldn't risk him waking up early while he was working. The guards outside were no issue since they no longer had their key cards, but that one? Well, hacking required concentration, and he couldn't afford to let his be broken.<br><br>The hacking itself hadn't taken much time; he had plugged his decryptor into the computer directly and begun the process of opening up the locks he needed; in this case, it was all of them. See, S.T.A.R Labs had a top of the line security system, so hacking in and shutting down the security protocols for one or two doors was nigh on impossible due to the high levels of encryption and the constantly shifting cypher that made it practically impossible to guess the codes unless you already knew them...there were hackers out there who could do it, of course, and there were definitely people who could just bypass it altogether by phasing through the walls directly, but he was neither of those things. What he did have was a computer-like brain built for problem solving, a talent for gathering intelligence and the ability to think nine times faster than an ordinary human, at least. So, he was able to come up with a work around; every big building had a Fire Protocol; a series of measures that were taken in the event that a fire was detected in any section of the building in order to protect its employees and its important assets. S.T.A.R Labs had a very specific one; since all of the doors were fire doors anyway, them being locked wasn't necessarily compulsory...so the Fire Protocol unlocked every door in the stricken section so that employees could flee quickly without having to scan themselves through one at a time...and thankfully, what he was looking for was located in the Archives, the warehouse-like facility where technology was sent when it wasn't being actively worked on for whatever reason. It was like The Vault in that the security was top-notch, but he had a solution for that....he just had to get there. Luckily for him, it was directly below where he was standing and unlocking the Fire Doors in this immediate section gave him a direct path to it. <br><br>Unfortunately, of course, something went wrong; he was notified a moment too late on his Decryptor that he had triggered some kind of secondary alarm that had already broadcast a distress beacon to an unknown receiver....given that it was embedded in the Source Code, it was obviously not <em>supposed</em> to be there, especially since Mockingbird had failed to mention it as a line of defence, so the chances were that it wasn't broadcasting to the police. Rather, it appeared that somebody else - probably a vigilante or somebody who knew a vigilante - had hacked in first and placed a subroutine that would alert them under certain circumstances....and apparently, as soon as he forcibly tripped the Fire Protocol, that had counted as "unusual behaviour." Of course, any hacker who could insert an entire subroutine into S.T.A.R Labs security system and get away with it was leagues better than him...but he had the aforementioned advantages in that his brain was a problem solving computer and he could think 9 times faster and more efficiently than any other human....so he promptly shut down all cameras and all remote access outside the building. He effectively cut off S.T.A.R Labs connection to the outside world using their thoughtfully placed "Cyber Attack Protocol," designed to defend against Cyber Attack. Minus the Lockdown, of course; that would be bad. Of course, his break in would still be detected and guaranteed there were already Masks en route, but....well, if they came in blind, he would have the advantage, especially since he doubted that anybody still alive had fought him and walked away. The only person he could remember fighting him to a tie was Batman himself and that little Boy Wonder...but Batman was dead, and Robin had disappeared years ago, so far as he knew. And really, in that team, it was Batman that was the threat, not Robin. <br><br>Still, he needed to at least try to finish the job before they arrived. Fighting Masks was not part of the contract and even if he won, they inevitably complicated matters somehow, and he really just wanted to finish this job and get out of that hellhole of a city as fast as possible. Therefore, unplugging his Decryptor from the server, he turned and made his way through the newly unlocked door behind him and down towards the Archives. As he had planned, all of the doors between him and the main Archive Door were unlocked as if there was an inferno raging down below, and he pushed through them carelessly, not even paying attention to the camera's or any kind of extra security that might be present; the Fire Protocol largely disables the pressure plates and laser grids for easier and quicker evacuation. Good for safety...not so good if a thief knows about the subroutines and has the equipment to crack and manipulate them. That's the thing; the more Protocols and safety measures you take, the less secure your system is and the more back doors are created. At least, in his experience; it was entirely possible that there existed a system with no back doors and no way to manipulate the Protocols, but...well, this was not one of those systems. Honestly, he expected more from a building that Lexcorp itself funded...but, they were only human, and humans made mistakes. As he said earlier; the weak link in any security system were the humans operating it. After pushing through several doors and descending down several flights of metal, railed stairs, he finally reached the door he was looking for. That one wasn't an issue; Mockingbird had somehow gotten access to its security protocols, so all he had to do was plug his decryptor - which was built into his left gauntlet, by the way - into the wall and he was good to go. After a few moments, it let out a little series of beeps and the heavy, lead-lined Promethium door rumbled open. It was a good thing Mockingbird was so connected somehow; being Promethium, he likely would have never gotten through the door without that algorithm Mockingbird provided him. Once the door was only half open, he stepped inside and looked around.<br><br>The Archive was a large, dingy room, filled with rows upon rows of warehouse-like shelves that were filled with variously sized boxes and crates, all marked "Hazardous" or "Dangerous" or "Top secret" or something silly like that. Some lights flickered on, but they did little to help with the general low-light conditions of the room, but what they did illuminate was just...depressing. Bland concrete walls, a flat, featureless floor and row upon row of boring-looking boxes, crates and packages. Oh, and the sprinkler system had activated, of course...a side effect of activating the Fire Protocol and not being able to access The Archives isolated circuit directly. Oh well. It was only a bit of water. For all its boring appearances...The Archive was filled with some fairly powerful stuff. All the current experiments were kept in The Vault, along with what they considered "high risk targets," but for some reason, they'd put The Device that he was looking for down here, in The Archives...perhaps they wanted to shove it to the back of the pile, or maybe they wanted it away from the rest of the high risk targets so that if the Vault was broken into, it wouldn't go missing as well. Either way...it was a mistake. The Vault would have been much harder to get into. Sighing, he set to work as quickly as he could; he knew exactly where the box he was looking for was - it would be filed away with the rest of the Aborted Military Contracts, and was the smallest thing there - so he made a beeline straight for it, weaving his way through the neat stacks and rows of fortune-making equipment that any other thief would have grabbed as they walked past. But not him; he had a job to do. <br><br>He found it soon enough, a small, nondescript crate wedged away between two slightly larger ones and dislodged it with a healthy, hefty pull. Setting it down on the floor, he pried open the top of the box to check what was inside - a smooth black cube, about a foot long on each side, with no discernible markings or features of any kinds save its smoothness - and nodded to himself in satisfaction. After a moments thought, he fished around in one of his many pouches and produced a small, equally smooth black key, provided to him by Mockingbird, just in case. Reaching down, he pressed it against the center of the cubes top face and after a moment of nothing, a small hole appeared on its surface. The key slipped in easily. He twisted it to the side, then pulled the key out. The device was now active; if the Vigilante's undoubtedly en route were aliens or Metahumans, they would be in for a nasty shock; this device appeared to radiate a magical field that depowered almost every type of Metahuman and alien known to man...for some reason, it didn't affect those inflicted with a Super Soldier Serum like himself, but he wasn't about to complain about his apparent immunity. It would give him a <em>huge</em> advantage in the fight to come, provided none of the heroes had a similar source for their powers. Placing the lid back on the crate, he heaved it up to his waist and began his journey out, crate under arm. Unfortunately, there was no other way out besides that door; it was impossible to close through the control panel - the algorithm saw to that - so there was no chance of him being trapped in...but that was only built in because there was no other way to breach The Archives. The weak point was the door...so he needed to get out before the Vigilante's arrived. He was running behind schedule anyway...so he needed to hustle. He stepped out from the rows of crates and boxes and began moving towards the door as quickly as he could whilst maintaining his grip on the box. With any luck...he'd be gone before the planters of that subroutine got there. He didn't need a fight complicating his Contract.
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>12-11-2015, 01:15:36</strong>
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				<div align="center"><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><div align="center">(http://i.imgur.com/kd32mdF.jpg?1)<br><br><br></div></td><td>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; </td><td><div align="center">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/scale_small/10/100647/2869108-sb_cv20_2d6zilu8mg_.jpg)<br><br><br><br></div></td></tr></tbody></table></div><hr><div align="center"><strong>Name:</strong> Conner "Kon-El" Kent<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Supberboy<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The *New* Batfamily&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:15 - 20:18<br><strong>Location:</strong> Hamilton Building (Apartments) Gotham South, Central Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler<br><hr> </div><hr><br>Conner was fast. Probably one of the fastest people around, especially in the air. (He hated to admit it, but landspeed was reserved for one guy in all red as champ, and Conner was close but even Superman couldn't be the best at <em>everything</em>) Once he'd cleared the secret tunnel, he cut upwards at a 90 degree angle, then once he cleared the skyline, he turned on the juice. "ETA about 2 minutes. I don't wanna fly too fast and get picked up on radar." It was a broadband statement, sent to everyone on that frequency.<br><br>&nbsp;During his flight, he had to wonder. Just who was breaking in here? Did they get lucky, or were they good enough to live up to the team's expectations that they weren't just some flavor of the week? He also had to wonder just what it was this person or persons wanted, what they'd do with it if they got it. So many questions that only raised more questions. Well, it was a good thing they planned on nipping this problem right in the bud. Then he could ponder all he wanted while whoever broke in sat in a cell. <br><br>Whether it was at Arkham or Bell Reve or any of the other super powered installations fully depended on who they were dealing with. Before he knew it, he was there, and since he was acting as eyes in the sky for the team, said eyes started scanning the entirety of S.T.A.R. Labs. The main facility, the grounds, any outlying buildings. All of it. Conner's vision changed from enhanced, to X-Ray, to every other spectrum he could use, and at first he saw nothing. <em>Then</em>, he saw bodies piled in a room. He narrowed his vision and looked inside them. He saw hearts beating, organs pumping.<br><br>&nbsp;They were still alive. "Still no word on who or how many, guys. But the exterior guards are all knocked out. And sorry, can't get us an inside look. The walls are lead lined. From what I can see though, there's no traces anyone was here aside from the guards and Oracle's alarm. Whoever did this is a pro, or <em>pro's</em>. The only reason we even know is because she thought ahead." Zooming down, he called 911 from one of the guards phones, then searched them. <br><br>"I called 911 just in case, and I checked the guards. All the good stuff is missing...like keycards for the building. Whoever did this took them down, slipped inside, and started the hack from there. That's the only thing I can think of, because Oracle should've been able to catch an attempted remote access before it got past her firewalls, right? It's a whole lot tougher when they've got hardline access directly into the system." He'd done all he could for now, so he retreated across the street, standing on the edge of a building and waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Sure he could go in guns blazing, but he wasn't a solo act anymore. He had a team, and they'd back him up just like he would them. If he charged in now and get his ass handed to him...well Nightwing didn't need anymore ammo.
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>12-11-2015, 15:28:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://orig01.deviantart.net/2a8a/f/2010/149/b/c/batwoman_portrait_by_protokitty.jpg)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; En-route to Archives<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2019 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Superboy, Oracle, Nightwing, Spoiler<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Bane, Riddler, Catwoman, Poison Ivy<br><strong><em>Scene Music:</em></strong>&nbsp; Infiltration Theme (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40fZZ-MZZ4A)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman reflects on what is known and issues out orders to the team while moving inside.&nbsp; Initial analysis of the internal status reinforced her orders and she begins moving towards the Archives after some deductive reasoning.<br><hr><hr><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>E</strong></span>nroute to S.T.A.R Labs, Batwoman let her body fall on auto-pilot.&nbsp; The streets of Gotham were something all but familiar and handling the Ducati fell to muscle memory.&nbsp; Convinced that tonight wasn't going to be like the others, things had to be thought through thoroughly.&nbsp; Poison Ivy makes a return after five years to rob a bank.&nbsp; A break-in at the world's leading scientific advancement facilities.&nbsp; Was there a connection?&nbsp; Kate's initial conclusion was no.&nbsp; Ivy's reputation of criminal activity was environmentalist.&nbsp; She was one of the most prominent eco terrorists in the world so there would be no need for a weapon.&nbsp; Unless said weapon operated on biological, organic power sources.&nbsp; Even then it was a stretch.&nbsp; This was unrelated so the question fell down on who.&nbsp; Who in Gotham's long list of recurring villains would take an interest in S.T.A.R Labs?&nbsp; Who out of that list would have the technology or brain capacity to pull it off?&nbsp; Bane?&nbsp; Riddler?&nbsp; Catwoman?&nbsp; Three possibilities but not likely.<br><br>Focus returned once Connor reported his findings through the intercommunications device.&nbsp; Downed guards but not killed.&nbsp; It was someone skilled and knew how to avoid being messy.&nbsp; The guards were missing key cards, which was a method to bypass external security and gain access inside.&nbsp; The team was handling a professional or a team of them.&nbsp; They also had a quickly closing window of opportunity to put a stop to this.&nbsp; They were minutes late arriving and anything could have been taken with enough time for a getaway by now.&nbsp; Sorry team, but Batwoman was moving in ahead of schedule.&nbsp; Unlike Batman, however, she'd notify them and explain her reasoning.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"In that case, I'm moving in.&nbsp; We're already responding to this later than I'd like and I'd like to be inside before they have a chance to escape.&nbsp; Spoiler, if you get here before Nightwing, you wait for him to move in,"</em>&nbsp; she told them just as S.T.A.R Labs was in sight.<br><em>"Superboy, get bird's-eye view of the area and report any suspicious activity until Nightwing and Spoiler are inside and if it's possible, see if you guys can come in from alternative entry points."</em><br><br>Making a deft movement of the hand, Batwoman pressed fingertip against the touch-responsive screen integrated on her side of the Ducati's visor, setting it on auto-pilot.&nbsp; She mentally prepared herself for the following series of actions, understanding and concerned about going in blind.&nbsp; There was no intel or inkling on who was inside but that's never stopped her before.&nbsp; The Ducati slowed its acceleration down just manageable enough for Kate to put her left foot on the seat before kicking off, tumbling into a roll upon landing and letting the gained momentum carry into a sprint.&nbsp; In only a few seconds, Kate found a route inside and immediately analyzed the surroundings.<br><br>Every door was open and the flickering red lights near the ceilings indicated an alarm protocol.&nbsp; That was clever but had a huge risk.&nbsp; Everything had a pro and a con, she supposed.&nbsp; It did confirm some things though.&nbsp; For one, there were open exits, reinforcing her tactical decision in having Connor maintain a bird's eye view.&nbsp; Oracle needed to get into the system and upload those schematics.&nbsp; With that, the would at least have a vague bearing on the facilities most likely routes of egress and locate suspect locales where items of interest were.&nbsp; Until then, Kate had to make do with what she had.&nbsp; The only way to cover as much ground as possible was using what resources she had and with it in mind, she spoke through the intercommunications relay again.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Oracle, what is the progress on those schematics?&nbsp; They've triggered an alarm that's opened up every door in this place.&nbsp; Most likely an evacuation protocol to a fire alert or something.&nbsp; Connor, that aerial view is even more important until we have those schematics because any exit point is viable.&nbsp; Nightwing, I entered through the foyer entrance;&nbsp; take Spoiler and enter from another angle.&nbsp; We can't afford to have them get away.&nbsp; They're good."</em><br><br>Katherine began to move further inside, relying on labels and common sense to advance.&nbsp; Facilities like this and hospitals had signs on the walls to help visitors or employees navigate easier.&nbsp; She had to look for leads to anything such as 'Laboratory' or 'Testing'.&nbsp; Anything that would indicate the most likely destination for things to be stolen.&nbsp; Then again, on another thought, a storage space for weapons already tested would also be ideal.&nbsp; She surveyed the signs quickly, using the part of her brain that memorized license plates.&nbsp; 'Archives', one of the signs said.&nbsp; Her destination was set and she began to quickly approach.&nbsp; Her senses were attuned to be as keen as possible, body language poised and ready to react at a moment's notice and her feet silent.<br><br>As she moved through the building towards the Archives, she kept meticulous sense of awareness.&nbsp; Any corner she had to turn, she turned at a wide angle.&nbsp; Any adjacent door ran past, Kate passed from the opposing side of the corridor.&nbsp; If they somehow saw or detected her approach, this would reduce the chance of a surprise attack significantly.&nbsp; It also allowed a more thorough scan of the room, starting from one wall to the next.
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>12-11-2015, 18:36:49</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/11119/111195216/4557194-8073001623-18868.png)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Nightwing<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family<br><strong>Time:</strong> October 17, 2015; 2020 hours | Saturday<br><strong>Location:</strong> STAR Labs | East Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Superboy, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Mentioned:</strong> Riddler, Two-face, Joker, Catwoman, Bane<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Nightwing feels that this is familiar somehow, but can't place it. Internal frustration and fear of the unknown make him act more serious. Fondly Remembers an old memory of Bruce while leading Spoiler through the south entrance (Loading Dock) and investigating the area. <br><hr><hr><br>Dick was riding up to STAR labs when he heard Conner’s report about the state of the scene. All of the guards were still alive, just knocked unconscious, and only their key cards had been taken?&nbsp; <br><br>This wasn’t about sending a message, which meant that most of the Gotham City regulars were off the list of suspects. Riddler would have announced his intention hours beforehand. Two Face wouldn’t have been nearly this subtle, and some of the guards would have been killed thanks to his damned coin. Joker was long dead, but if he somehow was alive, which Dick wouldn’t put past the crazed clown, he didn’t know the meaning of the word quiet. Or Non-lethal for that matter. Catwoman could do it, but she wouldn’t let herself get noticed in the first place. And besides, she’d been quiet since even before Bruce’s death. He’d heard a report of small scale heists here and there across the country, but Dick knew that it would take a hell of a lot for Selina to come back to Gotham. Bane might have been capable of this level of stealth and subtlety, but Dick hadn’t heard anything about the masked mercenary being back in town.<br><br><br>“Batwoman, you probably already came to the same conclusion, but I think we’re dealing with an out of towner. None of the Gotham regulars could ever be this quiet. And even if they could, we would have heard something from one of their henchmen. This is somebody new, someone who's not using the established Gotham Networks.” Nightwing spoke into his comm receiver, his jovial demeanor replaced by something more serious.<br><br><em>‘So we know next to nothing. Fantastic.’ </em>He thought to himself with a bitter taste in his mouth. The experienced crime fighter couldn’t shake the feeling of familiarity, like there was something obvious he was missing. An out of town criminal, clearly incredibly professional and skilled, coming into town for a job,that didn’t seemed to be contacted by anyone in Gotham, and they weren't relying on the Gotham underground network to hire extra hands. It was so familiar he wanted to slap himself. <br><br><em>‘Bruce could have figured it out, why it felt so damned familiar.’ </em>Dick’s mind spat at him, angry at himself for not being able to put the puzzle together. <br><br>Still, there was no time for Self-flagellation. There was a mission, and he had been given tasks; watch over Spoiler and move into the building through a different angle. Which angle though? Where might the villain have<br><br>“Spoiler, We’re going in through the south entrance, where the loading dock is. And we’re going in with full stealth. We wouldn’t want to spook our new playmates too soon.” Without even trying Dick found himself slipping into a strange combination of his own joking nature and Bruce’s more serious intimidating speech pattern. <br><br><em>‘I guess the old man rubbed off on me more than I thought’</em> He thought to himself with a small uptick at the corner of his mouth. It felt good to know that Bruce wasn’t completely gone, that some of his personality had been passed along with all the skills that he’d hammered into his young ward.<br><br>Dick Grayson had learned quite a good deal from his time with Batman, but stealth had been one of the foremost things that Dick had gotten drilled into him. According to Bruce, too many people, superhumans among them, were so focused on themselves that they missed the obvious things. Sleight of hand, a footstep on the floor above them, the feeling at the back of their neck trying to tell them that someone was coming up behind them..And it was a lesson Dick had taken to heart, constantly improving his skills until he could finally sneak up on Bruce himself.<br><br>It still put a smile on his face whenever Dick remembered that moment in the cave, when he’d burst out from his hiding place and Bruce had let out an involuntary scream of surprise that Dick suspected no one had heard since Bruce had been a young child; when he’d still had his parents. And that was to say nothing of the time that Dick had managed to sneak up behind Wally West, the fastest man alive, and managed to pick his pocket without the redhead rush ever being the wiser. <br><br>And while Spoiler hadn’t had nearly as much training or practice as Dick in the area, her invisibility belt and her small stature would make anyone short of Conner look over her if she was hiding. The real question for this mission would be how quiet she could be while moving and pursuing a target. Being hard to see wasn’t worth much if she sounded like a baby elephant when she walked.<br><br>Silent as a specter, Dick slunk into Star labs through the open loading bay, confident that Spoiler knew enough to follow behind him without question. As he made his way through the facility, it became painfully obvious that this wasn’t the way their target had come through. Everything seemed in its place, with nothing recently disturbed. And most interesting, if this was supposed to be heist, which all the signs were pointing towards, there didn’t seem to be a getaway vehicle.<br><br>“Batwoman, the target didn’t come through the south entrance, and there’s no vehicle waiting to pick up the cargo at the loading bay. Which means whatever they’re trying to take is gonna be small enough for them to walk out of here with.”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>13-11-2015, 04:23:50</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b483/aliashappens/4495857-3660430-spoiler_zpszcif2ege.jpg)</div><hr><br><strong>Name:</strong> Stephanie Brown<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> The Spoiler<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:20<br><strong>Location:</strong> East Gotham streets | STAR labs | Entering the building via loading bay<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Batwoman | Superboy | Nightwing | Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Spoiler starts to feel like the mission is going to be boring. As she arrives she gets more nervous, and starts to grasp the heavy nature of the situation. She silently rolls into the loading bay, and follows Nightwing into the south entrance. She oggles Nightwing's booty against her will.<br><hr><hr><br>Almost everything that Superboy said sounded like<em> 'blah blah blah blah -lead. blah blah - key cards - bibbity-boo-blah - hardline system'</em>. She could hear him loud and clear, and there was nothing wrong with his report in any fashion. <em>'Sounds, dull.'</em> She was actually disappointed. <em>'I mean, the police cars that were helping me speed didn't even care to come here, probably some two-bit trying to knock over a convenience store, taking hostages for a helicopter out of Gotham. Something cheap and routine. Meanwhile, they didn't even bother to come here.'</em> Spoiler had yet to hear anything about what was going on at the Bank in Central Gotham. Conner had told her that she was in the big league's now, but this was starting to feel very anti-climactic to her. <br><br>Batwoman and Nightwing had a little bit of different interpretation. <br><br>Once Spoiler had got to within a mile and a half of her target, the volume of traffic went down considerably, and she had no problem hopping curbs, and diving through the double yellow lines in order to get to STAR labs as fast as possible. There was mostly open road for the last mile of the trip, she was behind everyone else, they had had a head start though, and she was confident that she was faster on the road than both Kate and Dick. Her delusions were grand, indeed.<br><br><em>'Hm,'</em> Stephanie was listening in to her two mentors sort out the situation over the radio. As the kilometers turned to meters on her bike's dashboard gps, she slowed down, growing nervous from the their descriptions together.<em> 'Maybe this is more serious than I thought,'</em> she considered the serious inflections of Kate's voice; and more,<em> 'Kate always sounds serious when she's got the mask on her face. But I've never heard her this focused.'</em> Granted, the young woman didn't <em>really</em> know Kate that well. And she, especially didn't know The Batwoman as well as that. This was the big leagues, and everyone else had a sense of imminent danger. Stephanie was starting to feel it as well, the closer and closer she got to the labs. <em>'They could already be escaping?'</em> Stephanie hadn't even thought about that. It felt like the bat-family had descended on to the labs as quickly as possible. <em>'How're they gonna escape?'</em><br>&nbsp;<br>Soon, Dick was in her ear again, she continued to debate her own reaction to them silently as she forced the bike to go faster, still at high speeds for the slow roads that she was using. <em>'An out of towner? God, they are quiet. No one's there...'</em> She had pieced it together, much slower than the others, but the concern settled in the pit of her stomach like bad eggs. <em>'oh man. Some one just broke into the most advanced research facility in the country, and there wasn't a single police car?'</em> She had heard Conner when he said he had called 911, at the time, she just didn't care enough to log it to memory. Dick was still talking, and she managed to catch his instructions with ease. <em>'No escape vehicle, huh...'</em><br><br><em>'Wait...'</em> He was already there too, Dick had beaten her, she was the last to arrive.<em> 'Crap.' </em>It was a knock and a half to the state of her well maintained confidence, even though she had traveled a much further distance, it bothered her that she hadn't traveled nearly as fast as she thought she had. The Spoiler wanted to have been there second behind Superboy, if only just to be the one to say things like,<em> 'it's all quiet here. I can't see a thing. There are no open doors or broken windows.'</em> As Stephanie pondered what she would have said in a self-induced condition of moderate envy, she rolled into the loading bay, <em>'maybe it's best that I didn't get here first.'</em> A report about a lack of broken windows would have been amateur at best, and most likely just embarrassing. <br><br><hr><br>He was waiting in the loading bay, she spotted him from more than 40 meters away. She had avoided the front entrance at all costs, and had taken a side road to get to the south end of the building. She was moving at little over fifteen miles an hour,&nbsp; the headlights on her bike were off. The engine was running, but she had the bike relaxed in neutral, and it was almost as quiet as Dick had been when he rode in. the rumble of the motor was starting to make her thighs go numb. She opened her comm to its primary channel so that everyone could hear, including Oracle back at HQ. <strong>"Check, Spoiler, I'm in position."</strong> She was whispering an she did not know why. She left her helmet with her bike, put her hood and her mask back into position and followed Grayson into the labs.<br><br>Spoiler didn't know it, as her and her freshly appointed conditioning trainer entered quietly in through the back of the building, but she was fulfilling one of Dick's desires. <br><br>She was as quiet as a mouse. Espionage and stealth had always come naturally to the bite-sized blonde little hero. Beyond her ability to stay out of sight, and as quiet as the fog, her protocol was spot on as well. Spoiler was over fifteen paces behind Nightwing, following his instructions and his hand motions with practiced ease. She had gone invisible without an order to do so, holding her three section staff taught in front of her, which was also invisible. The chains in-between the metal poles were too tight to rattle. The manipulation of her weight caused her feet to travel silently over the cold metal floors of the laboratory. Her breathe was shallow and slow. Over ten years of gymnastics, and a good grasp on yoga had given her a fabulous muscle structure that was long, lean, and effortlessly quiet on command. She couldn't stop herself however from making one tiny tactical error over and over again; her mind was on the mission, her heart was thumping in the back of her throat, every joint was a spring waiting to be released; and she couldn't stop herself from locking her eyes onto <em>that ass</em>. Every time the light peaked in to the right spot as they moved through the din and shadow of the facility, her heart fluttered, and her body squeezed with false anticipation. She had almost moaned twice. <em>'my god...'</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>13-11-2015, 13:57:33</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.eklettica.com/pictures/Illustrations/deathstroke1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><hr><br>It wasn't until he reached the top of the stairs and the beginning of the main corridor back to the Foyer that Deathstroke realised that something was...<em>off</em> about the whole situation. He had triggered the hacked alarm about ten minutes ago at that point, and still there had been no response; unless the "Mask" who planted the extra subroutine was utterly and irrevocably incompetent at their job - which would seem to be at odds with the professionalism and high quality of the hack - or in some way indisposed, they should have been swooping into the facility to try to stop him by now. Even the police department, as woeful as it was in Gotham, had a better response time than ten minutes for serious crimes, especially ones committed against wealthy benefactors. He had heard about something going on at the Central Bank over the Foyer-guards radio before he turned it off (to avoid making too much noise and alerting people to another guard being missing, should they choose to investigate) so if it was serious, that would explain the absence of immediate response vehicles or the sudden interference of Masks, but still...Gotham was rife with criminals and vigilantes, so surely at least one of them wasn't at the Central Bank....and if they were all there, then that was just a stupid allocation of resources and they deserved it when he got away. A single crisis rarely required the attention of every single self-styled hero in the area...and unless Darkseid had returned and teamed up with Braniac, he doubted that you needed twelve heroes to take on one bank robbery. Of course, if they had teamed up, then Deathstroke would need to find out and prepare accordingly. He hated being in the dark. Metaphorically speaking, that was. Of course, the other alternative was that the Mask - or Masks - was already here...in which case, it was now a game of Cat and Mouse.<br><br>Make no mistake, Deathstroke was, in this little game, the Cat. He had no doubt that he could handle whoever decided to storm down the corridor towards him, especially with that little box under his arm suppressing the powers of any Metahumans that might have decided to get involved as well. It wouldn't remove them entirely, but it would definitely reduce the strength to a manageable level...and Deathstroke never ignored a potential advantage. It was just not advantageous to charge in without basic preparation and planning; all of his fights, he planned ahead of time, even if it was only a few seconds ahead...those few seconds were likely further ahead than his opponent was thinking - heroes were, by their very nature, reactive agents that had to respond to whatever the "bad guys" did - and in a fight, the person with the best plan and the best idea of how everything was going to happen was going to win nine times out of ten. So...he could be due a loss. But he was looking to make that statistics ten out of ten for him personally; he'd only met a handful of people who could keep up with him in a fight, and he didn't think that he was going to meet his equal today. So...he assumed, for the moment, that a Mask - or Masks - had already arrived and figured out where he was going by simply following the unlocked doors. Seemed sensible. Even the slowest brute of a hero should be able to figure that much out. Now, there was only one corridor that led from the Foyer to the Archives, though it split off into several side-corridors and rooms on the way, and had more than a few turns as it navigated the absurdly laid out laboratories of S.T.A.R Labs...so he had some time. It wasn't until the Mask rounded that corner ahead of him that they would be able to see him, so he had some basic prep-time...but it was best to figure out how much he had, rather than guess.<br><br>Ducking into a side-corridor - one directly perpendicular to the staircase leading to The Archives, ending in a door marked "Record Room" - and out of the main hallway, he pressed himself up against the wall tightly, and closed his eye to shut out any visual distractions. He focused on the area around him, straining his ears and his suped-up senses in an effort to determine whether anybody was close by. At first, there was nothing other than the standard sounds you would expect to hear in an empty building at night; the occasional patter of lab rats in their cages, a creak as a door shifted its weight in a slightly uneven frame, the whistling of the wind as a draught blew in from a cracked window several stories up...and nothing else. All was silent. He almost stopped listening and started to open his eye, now convinced that he was alone and was just being paranoid...when he heard it. A small, almost imperceptible shuffle as something scuffed the floor as it passed. He stopped, freezing stock still as he honed in on that sound, now knowing what to listen for...and sure enough, now he knew what to keep an ear out for, he heard it. Foosteps. Muffled, light, almost silent footsteps, but footsteps nonetheless....and they were getting closer. They were moving slowly, being cautious - slowing down and becoming lighter every so often, presumably as the owner checked the doors and alcoves and proceeded cautiously around corners (which was exactly what He would do, were he in their position) - but they were approaching. So....a Mask was here already, and what was more...they were good. Not good enough, of course, but anybody capable of sneaking effectively enough to almost fool <em>his</em> combined instincts and senses? They were worth consideration, at the very least. Of course, now he had the advantage; he knew they were coming, he knew vaguely how far away they were...and they likely didn't know who or where he was, if his hack of the cameras had held up. Either way, though, this was the only hallway that led to where he needed to go. It seemed that a fight was inevitable...good. He'd been itching for a good fight for a while, and if their fight was even half as good as their sneaking, then perhaps it might even be fun.<br><br>But, of course, he wasn't just going to sit there and wait for them. Keeping an ear on the approaching, padding footsteps - though he lost them occasionally under the sound of other environmental noises, he always managed to find them again - he hurried across the hallway towards the door on the other side and maybe seven or eight feet away from the alcove he had been slotted into. The door was a nondescript, average looking thing with just a lab number inscribed on the frosted glass and a name next to it at about eye level on the wall...likely nothing of value inside, but that didn't matter; he wasn't here to steal anything not nailed down, he was here for a specific reason, so he couldn't care less what was in the labs he passed...until now, of course. He tried the door quietly, turning the handle as slowly as he deemed necessary to not make any extraneous noise and - thankfully - the door gave way, still unlocked from the Fire Protocol he activated earlier. He stepped inside, knelt on the ground beside the now-open door and fished out one of his flashbangs. It was a spherical device, smooth and silver with only a small button on the seam that held the two halves together that was connected to the internal computer that monitored its fuse and its payload. It wasn't a proper frag grenade - those things attracted way too much attention, and weren't particularly effective against Metahumans anyway - but the flash that it emitted was strong enough to momentarily paralyse even the strongest foe. Though it had never been tested against him, his suppliers assured him that it could even hypothetically stun Superman himself, were he still alive. He didn't know about that, but it should have been enough to blind the Mask creeping down the corridor towards him...unless they were blind. But then, that was a long shot at best. He shouldn't make jokes while he was setting up an ambush. <br><br>Pulling on a small tab on the underside of the sphere, he pulled out a small metal stand that projected 90 degrees out from the orb, and wedged that stand between the bottom of the door and the floor, thereby keeping the door open. Not fully so - that would be <em>too</em> suspicious - but only slightly ajar, as if somebody entered the lab and forgot to close the door all the way. If s/he's checking every alcove and watching every door as s/he approaches...an open door would be too risky to not at least watch as she passed. Yes, he could hide in the Lab as s/he passed...but if s/he investigated it for whatever reason, he would be trapped in a room with only one exit. All s/he'd have to do would be to keep him in the room until reinforcements arrived. That didn't sound good to him. So, instead, he pressed the button on top down and held it for three seconds - thereby activating the first of its secondary detonation criteria; it would project an invisible, infra-red beam in a triangular arc across to the other side of the hallway and up to the roof - which he gently adjusted to be pointing at the furthest spot he could towards where the footsteps were approaching from, so that s/he had to trip the beam to be able to see the flashbang at all; even if she only poked her head round - which, when disturbed - by the Mask - would activate the flashbang instantly and produce a massive flash of light accompanied by a loud banging sound, designed to disorient the victim. Once he was happy with the positioning - and just in time, too; the footsteps were almost on top of him - he stood and retreated, slipping back into his little alcove as quietly as he could...and that was just as quietly as the Mask who was approaching. You didn't get to be a world-renown mercenary and assassin without knowing how to sneak around at speed. He shifted his way down the alcove, so that he was out of line of sight of the corridor, and listened carefully as the footsteps rounded the corner and slowly approached the staircase leading to the Archives...once the Flashbang went off, they would be in business. <br><br>Seconds trickled slowly past as the Footsteps grew louder - by their standard, anyway; an ordinary human would have missed them entirely, but no matter how hard you tried, your feet would still make the barest of noises - and he could begin to hear the heartbeat of his would-be hunter pounding in their chest, adrenaline no doubt already flowing through their body, readying for the fight they no doubt thought was waiting down those stairs....they slowed slightly again as they came to the door. Deathstroke quietly activated his helmets filter, both the noise-cancelling plugs and the light-filter that slid into place over his eye. He was around the corner and therefore shouldn't be affected...but you could never be too careful with senses as powerful and sensitive as his. Only a few moments more, and...<br>The flashbang erupted into light and sound, filling the corridor with blinding white light and a no doubt echoing, ringing whine that would give anybody a splitting headache...the sound itself would have incapacitated Deathstroke himself for a few precious minutes, had he not activated his helmets filtration systems (which he now switched off; the flashbang had detonated, meaning that there was no reason to cut off his sense of hearing anymore) but now he took advantage of his supremacy in regards to actually being able to use his senses to their fullest. He wasted no time, accelerating and spinning from his alcove, already at half-speed - he could run and accelerate many, many times faster than an ordinary human...he could run at 30 miles per hour and could get up to speed in a matter of seconds - as he hurtled towards the probably stunned Mask. He didn't know how badly she - because he could see it was a "she" now, dressed in a black get-up that was remarkably similar to Batmans old suit in design and aesthetic...he had done his research before arriving in Gotham, of course, so he connected this Mask instantly to the rumours of a "Female Batman" prowling his old area, which certainly explained the stealth and professionalism if she was trained by the Bat himself. <br><br>Deathstroke had only fought him once before his death, but he had been certainly impressed by what he saw...but it also meant that she was likely nowhere near as skilled as Bats, which disappointed him. He was looking forward to a decent fight. Batwoman, as her name was reputed to be, was good, yes...but he doubted that she was good enough. Yes, he had contacted some of the "regular rogues" in Gotham for information, and interrogated a few of the thugs before breaking into S.T.AR Labs since...well, he needed to know who could come to stop him. Of course, that meant that she was not likely to be alone; from what he could gather from the few criminals willing to talk to him (and some of the ones who needed some "persuading") she ran with a small team of other Masks, each of them supposedly very highly skilled...if she was here, there was a good chance that she had brought the rest of the little family as well. Good. They might actually pose a challenge, if taken together. Unfortunately, that wasn't the job; now that he knew who had been approaching, his curiosity was sated and he felt no desire for an easy, boring fight. So. Escape was the prime directive here. Instead of directly attacking or engaging her, as easy as it would have been, that flashbang had been loud...so if her teammates - if she brought them, that was - had been connected to her comms, they would likely have heard the eruption themselves, and increased their pace to link up with her....which meant that he had very limited time to get out of the hallway before they trapped him in. Yes, narrow spaces were excellent for fighting multiple opponents, but they were also excellent places to trap and contain a lone fighter. And since his priority was escape...that would not be good. <br><br>Batwoman - yes, he was certain it was her; the description he had extracted from several sources matched closely enough for him to be reasonably certain - was now in the center of the corridor, blocking his advance...well. Blocking an ordinary thiefs advance. Not his. He directed his run towards one of the walls and, just as he reached a few feet away from her, he sprang up into the air, braced one foot on the wall next to her and the other on her shoulder and pushed with both with a good amount of force from his super strength. Not enough to shatter anything - breaking the wall wouldn't help, and he didn't want to kill her; she could evolve into a worthy opponent one day - but enough to push himself forwards and give her a hefty shove in the direction he had just come from as he hit the floor several feet away with his momentum intact, streaking down the corridors at about ten to fifteen miles per hour - going full speed down a twisting hallway was not a good idea, even if he could think nine times faster than anybody else - taking the corners easily as he ran back towards the foyer. Escape was his top priority. If he stopped to fight a sub-par opponent, he risked being boxed in by whoever else she bought with her, and if she didn't, well...she had likely called the police before she advanced into The Archives, and he didn't fancy turning this burglary into a full-on Hero Brawl accompanied by a police shoot out. The good news? Unless she had left people in the Foyer, he was going quickly enough to easily reach it before her team could cut him off, unless they were in possession of their own Speedster. Of course, that was assuming she brought backup at all; if she hadn't, he was home free. He hoped it was the latter; it would make his job so, so much easier.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>13-11-2015, 20:31:30</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/LTCmOhA.jpg?1)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Conner "Kon-El" Kent&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong> Superboy<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Entering the premises<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2019 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler, Patchy the Pirate(because he's got one eye and a thief)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Superboy continues his recon until he hears his cue from Batwoman; moving to intercept the OPFOR and assist his team.<br><hr><hr><br><br>The professionalism and efficiency of their culprit didn't seem to sit right with Kate, and she wasted no time in being the first to enter. She was the most experienced on the team, she was the leader, so he had no problem with her doing whatever. However he did care about her and the others. <br><br>"Copy. Be careful in there. You get hurt and I might have to break someone," he playfully joked, in his own way letting her know how much she meant to him; just like all the others. He had his orders, so he pulled away, floating higher and higher until he once again had a full view of the area and the environment surrounding it. "Still all clear on the outside. So either this is one of the best teams we've ever seen, or our perp is all by his lonesome...not a great place to be with Batwoman bearing down on you, eh?" <br><br>From his vantage point, his sharp eyes picked out Kate as she rolled up, and he kept his eyes on her until she disappeared inside the building and he could no longer see due to the lead. Like a hawk, he hovered there, craning his head back and forth and pouring over every square inch of this place to make sure their were no traps, surprises, or hidden friends. After a question for Oracle, he was made aware that every door was open. All the entrances were now exits as well.<br><br>&nbsp;"Got my eyes peeled. If anyone tries to come out that's not you, they'll be on their back before they know what hit em." When Dick showed up, Conner zoomed in on him too. "You're free and clear to enter, Nightwing. Quiet as a ghost out here." Spoiler entered not long after Nightwing, and then his entire team was inside and he was blind. Still he had a job to do, and he remained where he was, diligently scanning for anything further out of the ordinary.<br><br>&nbsp;He heard nothing from the team for a few tense minutes, minutes where his fingers gripped his palms with enough force to shatter titanium. He hated not knowing what was going on. And then Kate's voice crackled over the comm with background noises that sounded like movement and trouble. The one word that that stood out though, was a blaring <em>"Contact!"</em> That was all he needed to hear. "On my way, headed to the main entrance!" Suddenly the Superboy plummeted from the sky like a rock, and inches before hitting the ground, changed direction and sped inside the labs.<br><br>&nbsp;Before he made another move, he put just a bit of pressure on the entry doors and crimped them together, nearly mangling them in the process. Now they were just stuck closed and would need massive strength or high grade explosives to escape. Good luck to whoever wanted to get out that way. "Blocked off the main exit. They shouldn't be able to get out this way." After cutting off the main escape route, Conner stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, waiting and hoping whoever wanted out would try their luck to get through him. <br><br>Once he saw the culprit, he quickly commed the others. "Found him, he's coming straight for the main exit, guys. Hurry!"&nbsp; Taking a good look at the criminal and memorizing his appearance, the Superboy gave him a slight nod that seemed to be in greeting. Then a TV near Conner got ripped from it's wall mooring and sent spinning towards the guy like a buzzsaw without Conner even lifting a finger. Followed by him leaping forward to take the fight up close and personal. One good punch and he'd be out like a light. "I'm engaging, but I don't know what he's capable of!" He'd find out in a moment.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>13-11-2015, 22:33:08</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c8/15/bb/c815bb0aa224cc8fa90c87f752f680f6.jpg)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; En-route to Archives<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2025 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Superboy, Oracle, Nightwing, Spoiler<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Deathstroke<br><strong><em>Scene Music:</em></strong>&nbsp; <br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman makes contact with Deathstroke!<br><hr><hr><br><span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>T</strong></span>he process was tedious but necessary.&nbsp; Take a wide corner, use your peripherals and extend your senses out as meticulous as possible.&nbsp; &nbsp;Every second was tense to the point it was permeating the corridors and rooms being moved through and passed.&nbsp; It was easy to grow paranoid and skittish during these situations.&nbsp; It took one step to transition from being safe and being&nbsp; in danger.&nbsp; Preconceived social stigmas had reinforced the cause of goosebumps, like someone or something was watching you.&nbsp; A melodramatic interpretation of the chain reaction in the brain.&nbsp; It starts out as a stressful stimuli and ends with the release of chemicals that causes cardiac acceleration, energizing muscles and quicker contraction of the lungs;&nbsp; it's the survival instinct when facing fear.&nbsp; Kate wasn't immune to it.&nbsp; No one was even if they claimed otherwise and those that were truly incapable suffered with chemical imbalances or possessed inhuman physiologies.&nbsp; Batwoman was only human.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Copy.&nbsp; I'm enroute to the Archives coming from the foyer entrance.&nbsp; If anyone establishes contact, notify us,"</em> Katherine whispered over the intercommunications device wired into the cowl.<br><br>Some could argue it is insanity to willingly move forward into a situation like this alone.&nbsp; Some could argue it was selfless bravery.&nbsp; Kate would agree it was a mixture of both.&nbsp; It was reckless stupidity.&nbsp; Every prerequisite incorporated into the generalized assumption of bad news was present.&nbsp; Ignoring the obvious signs of moving through a facility more or less blind and having no advantageous intelligence, one faced emptied silence and the lifeless vacancy.&nbsp; That was just the beginning.&nbsp; What manner of culprit was right around the next corner?&nbsp; Was it more than one?&nbsp; Was it a metahuman who could snuff the life out of Kate with just a flick of the wrist?&nbsp; All viable questions yet no determinable answer.&nbsp; Not until the answer was literally in immediate vicinity and by then it could be too late.&nbsp; Despite all of Kate's training under special forces and the best instructors imaginable around the world, she was not eager to proceed like this.&nbsp; It was necessary, though.&nbsp; Better to be recklessly stupid and <em>try</em> to prevent something or have that something endanger the entire world when it fell into the wrong hands.&nbsp; Every precaution at her disposal that was necessary and efficient was in use.&nbsp; All she had to play was the waiting game.&nbsp; A game that came to an end after what seemed an eternity.<br><br>Every door she passed was closed or opened.&nbsp; The ones opened led directly towards the Archives.&nbsp; Yet as she approached the final turn hugging the far corner, Kate saw the Archives and she caught notice of a door slightly ajar at the far end of the corridor.&nbsp; Every trigger an individual can have to drive on edge hit simultaneously.&nbsp; It could be anything or nothing at the same time.&nbsp; The concealed barrel a sidearm; the watchful gaze of opaque, non-reflect lenses or even a means of surveillance to notify whoever - or whatever - was beyond the Archive door.&nbsp; If Kate could get paler, she would have and within the instant, light flashed before her eyes.&nbsp; No, not the type suggested by Hollywood depictions moments before death but a literal light that introduced an irritating side-effect.&nbsp; Military-grade paraphernalia had been deployed, albeit enhanced for greater effect.&nbsp; Kate was blinded and disoriented but not to the point of insubstantial reaction.&nbsp; Within Batwoman's cowl rest both aural dampening technology that triggers only to noises above a certain decibel but optics lined with lens-flare compensation.&nbsp; They didn't make her immune but they successfully circumvent the full brunt of effect.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Contact!"</em> Kate yelled into the team's shared frequency, alerting them to dangerous circumstances.<br><br>An immediate use of memory and tactical training activated, forcing Batwoman to turn and strafe around the corner into the corridor she came from prior.&nbsp; It was the only effective means to mitigate the probability of following gunfire or assault.&nbsp; Granted, her vision was blurred but not removed.&nbsp; Under normal circumstances, the following rush of footsteps in order to carry one at speeds up to twenty two feet a second post-acceleration would be blatantly heard but Deathstroke had the benefit of the subsequent ringing in Kate's ears.&nbsp; After the cover was gained, her hand fell to the crimson utility belt and insert two fingers into a pouch.&nbsp; Just as her vision was restored, an image of a masculine figure leaped towards the wall at the end of the corridor she was blinded from and kicked towards her.&nbsp; The only reaction she had time for was the brace for impact.&nbsp; She felt the culprit's heavy boot make contact to her shoulder and push, springing off of her body and shoving her forward.&nbsp; Instead of resisting the force, she allowed momentum to carry her into a practiced roll that ended with her being sprung around facing him.<br><br>Quickly, she pushed off of her leading foot and rushed forward in pursuit.&nbsp; She had already extracted three of her throwing blades from the pouch during her roll, palming them to store for later use.&nbsp; For now, her focus was to maintain sight of him for as long as possible.&nbsp; Deathstroke was undoubtedly quick on his feet but Batwoman was no slouch.&nbsp; Pursuit on foot was not a foreign concept and years of cardio conditioning and sprinting experience amounted to something.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"I have visual on the suspect.&nbsp; Male, unidentified; Over six feet in height, armored and in possession of weaponry.&nbsp; He's quick and I can't keep up but we're heading for the foyer.&nbsp; Cut him off and prevent escape by any means necessary!"</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>14-11-2015, 05:04:39</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><hr><br>Batwoman was fast, he'd give her that - far faster than any other "ordinary human" Vigilante he'd had the displeasure of coming across in his line of work, certainly - but she wasn't fast enough to keep up with him. Not by a long shot; she made a good effort, able to keep pace with him for a few stretches of corridor, but he soon increased his speed up to about twenty miles per hour, and she began to flag...not much, but enough that she couldn't increase her pace to match his...and he began to pull away. Soon enough, he was a good few turns ahead of her, and though she knew where he was headed - it was obvious; there was only one exit point open to him at that point - he was hoping that it wouldn't matter. If he got to his planned escape route, there was no way that she could follow him effectively enough to chase him down before he got away, and all he needed to get there was to get out of the main building and into the Foyer. There were about three planned exit routes for him there, if he could just get to them....he had heard her shout something as he passed - not at him, but more about him, it sounded - and since he doubted she was talking to him, it meant that she had either Eyes In The Sky, or a team on-site...he just needed to hope that her team wasn't in a position to stop him, if she was in fact talking to a team. Of course, if they were able to intercept him...he would maybe get some fun after all. Two, three, four on one? That sounded fair...though who was in that team would influence whether they had enough or if they were, in actual fact, handicapped. Still. For the sake of a quick and easy job, he hoped that he didn't find out. He did so like easy money, almost as much as a decent fight. <br><br>Unfortunately - or fortunately, he hadn't quite decided yet - he found that his escape wasn't going to be quite so easy as he had anticipated...as he burst out of the door and back into the Foyer, he skidded to a halt - the force of the sudden deceleration hitting him in the gut like a solid punch that would have knocked any other human flat on their back - and instinctively fell into a ready stance as he faced the man opposite him. Slade's brain did its thing, taking in every detail as quickly as possible, analysing every aspect of the figure standing before him in a fraction of the time it would take a normal human to think through the conclusions, sorting every detail into small, relevant bullet points whilst simultaneously planning out several possible strategies, mapping out the surroundings with extra details from when he passed through earlier, and keeping track of other important information that he needed to make his decision. The man was tall, well-built and handsome with a straight spine and a relaxed, confident posture...the costume seemed to be taking inspiration from a certain well-known ex-hero, and from the relaxed and confident pose...he was a Metahuman. What kind, Deathstroke had no idea, and it grated...but he would find out soon enough, it seemed, if the mans posture was anything to go by. The relaxation indicated confidence in his own abilities, which was either arrogance or the sign of an extremely powerful opponent....he was going to go with the latter. If it was the former and he was wrong, he could adjust his analysis. If it was the latter and he chose the former...he could end up flat on his back, defeated, all because he underestimated his enemy. That was not about to happen. If he overestimated, he had the advantage. If he underestimated, he lost it. Simple. Now...the doors behind the new Mask were crushed together, presumably to keep him in, so evidently this new individual had some degree of super strength. <br><br>The doors were nothing Deathstroke couldn't kick through given the chance, but to crush them together required immense strength...how much was his maximum, and how much would it be reduced by the device? Variables he didn't know, and that was both dangerous and infuriating. How fast was this Metahuman, and how much would the device reduce his speed? Again, variables that he didn't know and had to figure out...he could make a dash for it, but if this being was a Speedster, than it was possible that his reduced speed would still be enough to catch Deathstroke long before he reached the entrance. And then he had to think about the rapidly approaching Batwoman; he could hear her footsteps behind him growing ever louder, coming closer and closer to being able to hit him from behind, and with that unknown variable standing right in front of him? He needed to get to a position where he was facing both threats at the same time. And that wasn't even considering the possibility of there being more team members that he didn't know about! He could handle them, he was certain...but even he could be beaten if he was careless. His eyes locked onto his body language, watched the muscles flex and tweak a little, watched the body for any shift in direction or momentum, any kind of out of the ordinary activity and readied his own body for a response. He could think and react ten times faster than any other human alive. He could handle whatever this Mask threw at him, surely. And, provided that he wasn't a super soldier as well or didn't use magic as his power source...he would have a nasty surprise when he didn't move as quickly or hit as hard as he might have expected. <br><br>Hopefully, that moment of shock would be enough to give him time to deliver a counterattack...and with any further luck - that he could create, of course; winners made their own luck - that would give him the opening he needed to escape. He reached out and tossed the small wooden crate under his arm onto the floor behind the security desk...he needed both hands to fight, and he had been told that the Cube was completely indestructible by conventional means...so some rough play wasn't forbidden, if necessary. He had been told that the effective range was enough to cover most rooms easily...he just hoped that the Foyer was counted among "most rooms" or, depending on the nature of this Masks abilities, things could have ended up very dicey for Deathstroke. Of course, they very well still could; after the briefest of nods towards him, as if in greeting - the smarmy bastard - and just a moment of calm as they simply looked at each other...the action began. <br>A horrific, screeching sound ripped through the foyer as nails and metal and plaster all rent and stretched and tore from each other, the sound of nails being dragged down a metallic chalkboard followed by several heavy items hitting the floor, immediately demanding Deathstroke's attention, his head snapping sharply to his left to investigate the source of the sound. He still kept the Mask in the corner of his vision, just in case...but what he saw demanded most of his focus. Somehow, the Mask had ripped one of the large, flashy televisions from its mooring on the wall and sent it hurtling towards him; he hadn't seen any discernible change in the Mask's composure or demeanour, so...telekinesis, most likely. If it was powerful enough to hurl a television of that size at him with as much speed and force as it looked to possess right then, how powerful was his telekinesis normally, without the effect of the Cube dampening his abilities? Or, more disturbingly, was he simply out of range of the Cube? That was a worrying thought. Perhaps he wasn't as safe as he thought he was...he almost hoped that the man opposite him was simply that powerful that the Cube only brought him <em>down</em> to Superhuman levels. That was new, at least.<br><br>Still, he had a problem to solve...mainly, a television hurtling towards him. Any normal human would have been hard pressed to get out of the way in time, but luckily for him, Deathstroke was no ordinary human. His brain - as quick and analytical and clever as always - automatically plotted the trajectory and intercept time in only a few seconds, drawing a mental line to where the Television was going to hit...and where he needed to be in order to avoid it effectively. Of course, that wasn't the only problem...immediately to the right of the hurtling television, the confident Mask had leapt to the attack, dashing towards Deathstroke with his arm pulling back for a punch. Was that his top speed, or was he delaying in order to arrive after the television? He didn't know. All he knew was that if this new Mask was looking to close the distance, he was confident in his own strength. Super strength? Possibly. He had a feeling he didn't want to find out. So...he needed to avoid the television, then recover and avoid the punch that was undoubtedly coming towards him, just in case. A tall order, but....he could do it. He thought so, at least. He would find out soon. As soon as his brain finished the necessary calculations, he span to the side, ducking low to the ground as he did so in order to pass under the flying television...if that hit him, it would hurt. A lot. Sure enough, his mental trajectory was correct and the television went sailing harmlessly overhead to crash into the wall next to the now-open door and shattered into several thousand pieces of circuitry and glass. Ironic that it was the hero who ended up doing more damage than the "villain," wasn't it?<br><br>Still, he had a follow-up blow to prepare for; he doubted that his opponent would wait for him to set himself, so he needed to be ready. He straightened as he finished his spin, coming to face the direction that the Mask was coming from...and blinked in surprise. The Mask had obviously sped up in the time that he had taken his eye off of him, since he was now about three times closer than Deathstroke had foreseen in his mental calculations. As he straightened up back into a combat crouch in front of the Mask, he saw too late that the heroes fist was already en-route to his gut, quickly picking up speed as the Mask put some obviously considerable force behind it. Avoiding it was impossible now, and he doubted that even he could move quickly enough to parry it entirely...so the only option left was to take it and just try to reduce the impact as much as he could. With any luck, the Cube was dampening this Meta's powers enough that he could take the punch. He didn't even want to think about how powerful he could be normally if this punch was enough to disable <em>him,</em> of all people. His hands came in from their half-guard positions, opening to try and catch and thereby slow down the closing fist...it happened quicker than even Deathstroke could track with his eye, but on replay, it went something like this:<br>The fist came slipping through Deathstroke's only half-completed guard with a speed that far exceeded any human was capable of, and even though Deathstroke's own hands closed around the wrist and upper forearm in an iron-like grip and pushed back against the impact, the fist still managed to travel into his stomach. The impact was like being kicked by a super-powered kangaroo, even through his armour, and he had to take an involuntary step backwards as he grunted with the force. The pain was sharp, like every punch to the gut is, but thankfully his armour and his own special resilience saved him from what would have been - had he been a normal human - a knock-out punch. His own grab defence likely had something to do with that, too, of course. <br><br>He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as the world seemed to pause around them. The punch was a hard one - easily able to rival one of Deathstroke's own - so obviously outside the Dampening Field created by the Cube, this Mask was <em>extremely</em> strong. Strong enough that Deathstroke himself would think twice about taking him on, even with intelligence and preparation on his side. And if that speed was anything to go by...that kid could easily be the next Superman. That thought made him grateful that he had taken the time to activate the Cube, or he likely wouldn't have been standing right then. And then, he did something very, very strange. Something that was, perhaps, not quite what the Mask expected. Tightening his grip, he did his best to stop the hand from leaving his gut...and started laughing. It was a chuckle at first, but it soon grew to be a proper, full-lunged laugh that lasted only a few seconds before it cut off sharply as he looked up at the Mask, his single eye gleaming. At last! A decent fight! "It's been a long time since somebody managed to land a blow on me; congratulations....and my gratitude." He grinned, then, though unless this Mask also happened to have X-Ray Vision as well, he wouldn't have seen it. Pulling his head back, he used his leverage on the Heroes arm to then snap himself forwards, his helmet hurtling right for the Heroes head. Regardless of whether it missed or hit, he didn't waste any time as he then shoved himself away from the Hero sharply and stepped so that his legs clicked together, then his back one arced out and span in a vicious circle, as fast as he could manage, straight at where he estimated the heroes head to be. Oh, don't let that punch be a fluke; it had been so, so very long since he had anything even approaching a worthy opponent. Something told Deathstroke that right at that moment...he didn't have to hold back. And it was a wonderful, wonderful feeling.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>16-11-2015, 04:32:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.news/NE2szDLyUIEU69_1_1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Nightwing<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family<br><strong>Time:</strong> October 17, 2015; 2020 hours | Saturday<br><strong>Location:</strong> STAR Labs | East Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Superboy, Batwoman, Spoiler, Deathstroke.<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Dick leads Spoiler to the main Room, demonstrating just how sneaky two people can really be. Dick Sees Deathstroke throw something under a desk, and sees him laugh off a punch from Superboy. Nightwing instigates a grappling hold, and tries to choke out Deathsroke with one of his escrima <br><hr><hr><br>Dick looked back to Spoiler, holding a finger to his lips to let her know that she shouldn’t respond to Batwoman’s call. In long hallways, like the ones that crisscrossed all through STAR Labs, voices carried. If there really was just one person stealing from the lab and he was good enough to evade Kate, then chances were good that he would be able to hear if Dick or Steph started talking. And they could use every advantage they could get if their mystery criminal was good enough, or cocky enough, to try and rob Star labs by himself. It was better to let the would-be thief think that Kate just had one partner in Conner and the surprise him if Superboy needed backup than it was to play their hand all at once.<br><br>So the pair continued down the hall towards the main forgey, moving as fast as they could without making any real noise. By the time they made it to the main entrance and got a good look at the mercenary, Conner was already intercepting. Nightwing held up a hand, signalling Spoiler to hold on. Conner could handle one thug, no matter how powerful that thug might be. Better to stay back and observe, find out everything could about the masked villain in case they ever crossed paths again. <br><br>In that observation, Grayson saw two things: The first was a small object, a wooden crate, that the thief slide across the floor to hide under a desk. Dick would have bet money on that being whatever he’d been hired to retrieve. <br><br>The other observation was much more distressing one. Conner managed to land a hit on the man, only for him to start laughing like a madman. There weren’t many people on Earth who could take a direct punch from Conner head on and live to talk about it. Granted Conner was probably pulling back a little, and the masked man had managed to block the blow slightly, but still. Either Conner was somehow being weakened, or this guy was a more serious threat then Dick had thought. <br><br><em>‘Okay, we need to end this fast’</em> Dick thought to himself, running through a thousand different moves he could make that had the potential to end the fight before it got serious. Most of them fell apart though for one simple reason; this masked man as able to take a punch from Conner and ended up laughing. And then he remembered a lesson Batman had taught him years ago, then they’d been fighting Bane. Just because someone could take a superhuman amount of punishment didn’t mean they were immune to everything; most metahumans with invulnerability were still vulnerable to electricity, gas, and the like. Even a good sleeper hold could take down someone that was capable of shaking off rockets. <br><br><em>‘So I’ve just got to get close enough and put him into a hold, which might make him pass out if I’m lucky and can hold him in it long enough.’<br>‘Easy. No Problem. It’s not like he’s faster than Kate, or he’s tough enough to laugh at Conner’s punch. I have the best ideas.</em><br><br>Just as Dick debated the pros and cons of coming up with another plan, and benefits of a forced vacation should the mercenary break one of his bones, the opening revealed itself. The assailant's leg was falling to the ground after his kick connected with Conner, and his back was still turned to Dick. A small calming breath and Nightwing was suddenly leaping through the air, pouncing on the mercenary like a monkey jumping&nbsp; from a&nbsp; tree to try and subdue a more powerful predator. Dick’s powerful legs wrapped around the mysterious man’s hips, hooking together at the ankles to ensure that he wouldn’t be taken off unless he let it happen. One of the escrima that Dick had taken to using as his weapon of choice was gripped tight in his hands, pushing hard against his opponents throat and restricting the masked man’s airflow. <br><br>Clinging to the back of the thief, Dick couldn’t help the smile that spread across his features. Now that he’d revealed himself to the opposition, there was no need to hide or to act deathly serious. He could cut loose and enjoy himself. <br><br>“Just be sure that you don’t forget the safeword. Wouldn't want to hurt my new partner now would I?”
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>16-11-2015, 05:40:55</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><hr><br>Unfortunately, Deathstroke didn't get to see just how hard his kick connected with the SuperMask, or even if it connected in any meaningful way at all; though he felt his foot connect with <em>something</em> before it finished its journey and began its descent to the floor, his attention was already drawn elsewhere before his move had even finished. His super senses had caught something else on the very edge of his hearing, something tickling at the fringes of his attention. The blood that had begun pounding in his ears blocked a fair amount of his hearing as his body got accustomed to the new shot of adrenaline and excitement - a sense of thrilling rush that he hadn't felt in a fight for a long, long time - but as his body processed the new energy and heartrate as he got ready for a good, exciting fight, it got better at managing the volume in his ears...and he heard it. The ever so slight scuff of a foot shifting its weight behind him, the sounds of a deep, steadying breath as somebody prepared to do something dangerous or energy-intensive or just something that they were worried about...either way, whoever it was that was behind him was almost as stealthy, if not more so, than Fem-Bats back in the corridor was. Where was she, anyway? Had he left her behind that far, or had time not progressed that much as of yet? Possibly both? No matter. This new combatant was just as stealthy as she was, and was planning something big. Probably another human, judging by the tactics...Metahumans tended to stomp in and assume they were the biggest and strongest - like the SuperMask he'd just kicked - rather than employing any actual guerilla tactics. Unfortunately for Deathstroke, he knew that he wasn't going to be able to turn in time; the sound of feet leaving the floor came before his foot had even finished its descent, and though he can react and think faster than an ordinary human, if he didn't have his balance quite ready, even he had his limits.<br><br>That didn't mean he had to go quietly, however; the assailant was in mid-air, which suggested that he wanted to close distance quickly and as quietly as possible...so Deathstroke set himself, steadying his body and regaining his balance in the split second between the moments when the assailants feet left the floor and his body came crashing into the back of Deathstroke. Any ordinary human would have likely gone toppling over from such an impact; they wouldn't have their balance back, and they wouldn't have heard such a quiet individual sneaking up on them until it was far too late and the attacker was already on top of them. Deathstroke, however, as should be obvious by now...was not an ordinary, helpless human. He was <em>superior</em> and he was about to prove it. This...Mask was about to learn why you didn't attempt to out-grapple The Terminator himself, especially if you were just human. Oh, don't get him wrong; the tactic was sound. His assailant - male, from size, build and voice - went straight for the throat, making certain to lock himself into position in an attempt to latch on securely as he crushed the windpipe....if your opponent couldn't breath, he couldn't fight. Simple as that, and true. Even Deathstroke himself could be choked out, given enough force...of course, the one thing that this foolish, brash Mask had forgotten to take into account was Deathstroke's armour. The raised lip in front of Deathstroke's throat delayed the completion of the hold long enough for him to lift up a hand and wedge it between his shoulder and the escrima, using his considerable strength to keep the baton away from him with a heavily gauntleted hand. It was a difficult angle to push from, to be sure, but he was able to bench press over a ton. Stopping the advance of a normal human males arm was childs play compared to that. <br><br>And, of course, this Mask also saw fit to offer some kind of wit; the previous Mask had thought to give him a little sarcastic nod, and this one decided to employ juvenile, basic banter into their fight, no doubt because he believed himself to be funny. No matter; Deathstroke himself engaged in such conversation often as a psychological tactic, and as such, he had grown very, very good at it. He chuckled lowly, a cross between a guttural laugh and a growl of amusement as he tilted his head slightly to catch a sidelong look at his assailants masked face...he would need to research him later to find out exactly who he was dealing with, though he had his suspicions; the Female Batman back there, if he was right about her identity, was rumoured to run with a group of other heroes of similar skills and outlooks...if he could get a good look at them, he'd likely be able to match them with their media personalities, at the very least, especially since they were so thoughtful as to design distinctive costumes for themselves. Still. Witty banter. It's how it was done, after all. "That's funny, little boy," He <em>did</em> sound young, admittedly...though, to be fair, most people were young to Deathstroke. Not many people could say that they were as sprightly as a 22 year old at the age of 80, now could they? "But I think you'll find that <em>I</em> play far rougher than you can hope to handle." His free hand suddenly locked around the Masks ankles, keeping them in place with his vice-like, steel grip. The lock was designed to keep the ankles together...with the addition of his steel-warping grip? Those ankles weren't going anywhere, thereby trapping his assailant on his back. That was the problem with such a hold; you opened yourself up to thousands of different counter attacks, with no real way to defend yourself. It was a brave gamble and against anybody else, it might have worked...but Deathstroke? No. The boy went all in, and his opponent had a Royal Flush.<br><br>Bending his legs, he braced himself and then pushed himself backwards sharply, using his hardened, more advanced muscular system to accelerate at a rate far beyond most ordinary humans. He couldn't accelerate as quickly going backwards with a load on his back as he could unburdened going forwards, but in the couple of seconds before he reached his target, he was still able to hit the best part of ten miles per hour as he crunched backwards into the wall, sandwiching the new Mask between his heavy plated armour and the solid concrete and steel security wall of S.T.A.R Labs. He didn't waste any time, however; the Mask was stunned, undoubtedly, and that was his chance to take advantage. Moving both of his hands down to the ankles that were locked in front of his waist, he gripped a different leg with each hand and pulled, <em>hard,</em> forcibly separating the ankles from each other. It was difficult, of course - even the worlds strongest man that wasn't Deathstroke would have trouble breaking a hold that had been locked with the ankles, given how hard it was comparably speaking to pull something apart that was already fixed together - but he was able to bend steel and lift cars by himself. He was able to force the legs apart without too much trouble...but he wasn't done; having the Mask on his back was inconvenient at best, and he needed him off. He released the ankles suddenly, and lifted his hands up to grab his attackers wrists firmly. Stepping forwards, he threw his entire upper body forwards and down, bending at the waist and using his momentum and his super strength to throw the Mask forwards , pulling his wrists with his entire upper body and flipping him over his shoulder and crashing down onto the floor. Deathstroke can hear a sharp crunch, though he was fairly sure it wasn't anything belonging to the Hero; it was most likely the tiles beneath him cracking from the impact.<br><br>Deathstroke doesn't stop there, though. As he threw his attacker forwards, he also pushed himself forwards, tucking himself into a roll and skidding along the floor a little before he came up in a combat crouch, watching both the Meta, the temporarily downed grappler and the door that he originally came through that he expected Fem-Bats to come through any moment then. He took the opportunity to take a brief glance around, especially from where the grappler leapt from, determined not to be surprised a third time in as many minutes. He didn't immediately see anything, even with his enhanced vision, so perhaps the Man In Tights had come alo- ah. It was difficult, but when he focused his ears on that doorway, he could hear the sounds of presence; breathing, no matter how quiet, always made at least a small sound...and though it was nearly silent, he could just pick up the sound of moving air. True, it could have just been a draught coming in from the loading bay, but when it was accompanied by an ever so slight scuff on the floor, it was likely to be a person. He focused his eye on the spot...but didn't see anything. It roved around a little, scanning the darkness...nothing. Was he going crazy? One of his senses told him that there was somebody there, and the other told him that there wasn't. Or maybe...she was just not visible. The Superbomb hadn't worked as effectively on the Fem-Bat as he had anticipated, so she likely had some kind of nullifying technology...why could somebody here be using a vision obscuring technology too, since they obviously had access to high levels of technology and science. Or they were just hiding. <br><br>Either way...he didn't know where they were, but he was certain somebody was over there. And if she was invisible? Her hesitation in leaping to the attack when she had the advantage told him outright that she wasn't as experienced as Fem Bat and Captain Tightpants over there on the floor...a trainee? Well, everybody had to start somewhere, but you didn't bring a rookie to fight The Terminator...if you wanted them to live to become experienced, that was. He angled himself so that he could keep an eye on the people he could see, and the doorway where he was now certain that somebody was lurking in...the hair on the back of his neck was prickling like it did whenever he was being watched, and he had learned to trust his instincts. They'd saved his life on more than one occasion when his senses told him that everything was fine. So if one of his senses and his instincts told him that there was something off about that doorway? There was something off about that doorway. He couldn't run now...not when he had three (possibly four) half decent opponents <em>and</em> when they were standing between him and his contracted theft, hiding beneath the table. He lifted his eyebrow and projected his voice towards the room almost mockingly, taking the chance of there being somebody there. If there wasn't after all, he was going to look absolutely crazy...unless it distracted the other Masks into thinking there was somebody else there, too. But if she was there, well...the benefits of calling them out outweighed the risk of looking crazy. If they thought he could see her, they might reveal themselves...or slink away. Either way, there was nothing to be lost from testing out the hypothesis, at the very least. He still wasn't sure, but it was worth the risk to see if he was right. After all...he didn't want an invisible enemy combatant lurking around his fight. Who knew what kind of anarchy they could create for him? Better to try and tempt her out now than to wait and let her reveal herself on her own terms. "And you?" he asked sarcastically, "Aren't you going to try as well? Or are you just here to watch and learn from your betters?" He snorted, for show. He didn't usually make it personal, but he knew nothing about this team on a personal level...so he had to figure out which buttons to push somehow. And that was going to take some verbal as well as physical probing. <br><br>This night was shaping up to be rather interesting after all...
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>16-11-2015, 19:32:42</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/LTCmOhA.jpg?1)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Conner "Kon-El" Kent&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong> Superboy<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Entering the premises<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2019 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler, Patchy the Pirate(because he's got one eye and a thief)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Superboy realizes his disadvantage, and decides it doesn't matter.<br><hr><hr><br>Several things started to appear at once to Conner, and even for him processing the how's and why's of all of them at once was hard in the middle of a fight. Firstly, no random thug should have been able to handle that tv. Not a hit from it or dodging it. He'd looked at the guys armor and a quick scan showed him it was tough enough to handle the impact from the TV with bruises at most, but it would have hurt like hell. This guy was fast though, fast enough to easily avoid the entertainment system turned projectile. It seemed he wasn't so fast as to avoid Conner though, which brought up another question. Why had it taken him so long to get there to throw that punch?<br><br>&nbsp;It didn't matter right at the moment, because what mattered was the punch got through his guard. The guy tried to stop him, but Conner still popped him right in the gut. Another question arose then, why had the man's attempt actually worked somewhat? There was a time, probably ten or so seconds ago where a punch like that would have sent him clean through the wall, but instead all he got was a grunt of pain and a step backwards? What the fuck was going on?! Was he getting weaker somehow? Did it have something to do with that box? Because he was just fine when he'd been outside. Crap, this was important, but he didn't have time to step back and analyze. He didn't have time to think about this. <br><br>He just had to keep the pressure on until the others got here. It didn't matter how good this guy was. Unless he had some pretty wild powers of his own, he doubted he could take out the Batfamily, even if their Superboy was working at a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of his power. At least he still had power though. If he'd been completely drained, he didn't know what he'd do since this guy seemed to be enhanced to an extent as well. When he tried to pull his hand back, Superboy discovered what it was like to be overpowered. Two hands of equal strength to his one was simple math. He wasn't going anywhere right now. He got some quick banter, and a thank you? "Yeah well it's been a long time since somebody managed to get one over on me. So kudos on that a-rrrgh!"<br><br>&nbsp;He saw the headbutt, and tried to guard, but with one hand all he managed was to drive his forearm up into the guys chest to diffuse just a bit of the force from that metal helmet of his. Then the foot came and well, Conner wasn't used to everything being so sped up. It came at a speed he could see and react to, but dammit the brain and body needed time to get used to such a drastic change. Time Conner didn't have yet. So he caught a hard boot to the chin that flipped him over and through the air as well as drawing blood. <br><br>Blood!? It had been quite a while since he'd seen his own blood. Yeah something was seriously wrong here. During his journey through the air, he caught a glimpse of Nightwing right before landing on his feet and somehow keeping his balance. All that combat and acrobatics training had helped apparently. While he regained his sense of self, Nightwing attacked. It was a quick exchange, but the guy in the mask was no joke to not be completely outclassed by Dick's skill and speed. Then again he was fighting Conner evenly so this was not a fight in the new Dark Knight's favor it seemed. When he got free of Nightwing, Conner shook one leg then cracked his knuckles.<br><br>&nbsp;"You hit pretty hard," <em>'I guess,'</em> Conner thought to himself while inwardly congratulating this guy on covering all the angles. "But we're not done yet." 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>17-11-2015, 05:58:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b483/aliashappens/4495857-3660430-spoiler_zpszcif2ege.jpg)</div><hr><br><strong>Name:</strong> Stephanie Brown<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> The Spoiler<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:20<br><strong>Location:</strong> | STAR labs | <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Batwoman | Superboy | Nightwing | Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Spoiler comes to the fight late. She photographs Deathstroke manhandling Nightwing. She panics when Deathstroke spots her. Eventually, The Spoiler closes in on the fight, ready to do battle, but not brave enough to throw the first punch/kick at the large man beating on her friends.<br><hr><hr><br>The tense mood inside of the facility was starting to make Stephanie feel nervous. It was fast, <em>'Kate found one,'</em> she thought. She checked the area behind her, just incase her enemies were coordinating their attacks. There was no one behind them, Stephanie turned to face forward again, her steps were hardly affected by the motion, the transmission coming in to her ear, or the anxiety that was starting to course through her very being. Steph was very nearly about to respond though, it was a good thing that Dick turned around to tell her not to speak. Spoiler nodded, even though he couldn't see her. She very nearly spoke again to tell him that she had heard <strong>his</strong> message loud and clear. It had been funny to watch Dick 'shush' no one. He had turned around to face Steph's general direction, but he had been off by a few feet, she had almost laughed,<em> 'it sure does look ridiculous when some one tries to look at me when my belt is on.' </em>Stephanie stayed a good distance behind Nightwing as he moved them closer and closer toward the dangerous figure in the other part of the laboratories. <br><br>Superboy's transmissions were muffled to stephanie for some reason tonight. It felt, oddly, like he wasn't there, or wasn't himself, or wasn't focused.<em> 'Weird. I can't put my finger on it, maybe It's just the real live ammunition in the air.'</em> Of course, there were no firearms being used, and no bullets in the air. Stephanie was just observing the situation the best way that she could manage. <em>'It looks like Conner and Kate have each come across one target, same man.'</em> She couldn't see this figure yet, but by the time Conner was making contact with the crook, Dick was starting to move much much more quickly, and she was losing him in the maze of the fire-exit ready building. Again, she nearly called out for him to wait up. She refrained from doing so.<br><br>As she tried to keep up with Nightwing, she even managed to keep her footsteps, no matter how long, or tall she happened to be stepping, she was sure to use her mastered weight control, to try and land on unused points, to balance her weight in the middle of the air at all times, to use her muscles to carry her forward, and not her contact with the ground. Her visual on Dick was lost again and again, but she managed to find her way through the corridors at two-thirds of her mentor's speed. She could hear a hefty laugh coming through the building, it aided her in finding the right path to the action. By the time she was on sight, Dick was already springing through the air. <em>'Uh oh.'</em> She had made no notice of the box that the baddy had tried to hide away, at least he had succeeded at hiding his treasure from one of his three combatants. Stephanie pointed the center of her body directly at the action and she squeezed her palm several times. The Spoiler took eight pictures of Deathstroke fighting to get Nightwing off of his back, she stopped capturing the pictures as Nightwing landed unceremoniously on the ground in front of the large, <em>'rather inimidating'</em>, dark hood that had so far made her team look like children. There had been no flash, and there was no shutter plate on the camera, it made a sound, as significant as the sound of a butterflies lips, but it was there. Stephanie had never seen anyone hear it before.<br><br>As she took the scene in, she couldn't but notice that the big bad was standing, while Nightwing and Superboy were not. She also couldn't help but notice that he was talking to her, directly. The same way that Dick had before, he was looking in her general direction. But his face wasn't pointed properly. <em>'How did he?' </em>Stephanie didn't remember making a slip, she had been as quiet as she had always been. She was as quiet as she was when she had eluded batwoman's senses. <em>'This is bad. He must've heard my shoes. That or my breathe...' </em>Stephanie was scared, and she stopped moving, now only allowing her breathe and her heartbeat to give away her position. <em>'I can barely even hear my shoes.' </em>It hit her suddenly; <em>'he has super-senses.' </em>It was so obvious to her, she immediately tried to think of ways that she could take advantage of his gifts. Granted, The Spoiler couldn't immediately think of anything worth doing. <br><br>She was petrified anyway, and she wanted to see if he was bluffing, or not. Then, the damned hood started speaking to her. <em>'lucky guess,'</em> she deduced. <em>'He's not looking me in the eye or anything.' </em>Stephanie inched her way closer to Deathstroke, she watched carefully, and used her cat-like steps to float over the surface of the hallway floors. <em>'real careful now. Real careful.' </em>Spoiler still had her three-section-staff in her hands, tightly held, and up in front of her face. She watched as Conner and her enemy started to circle each other once again. Nightwing was moving on the ground, but he didn't look good. Spoiler continued to inch close and closer. She circled Deathstroke in the same directions that Conner was, she was trying to stay directly behind him, she was to keep her exact position a mystery to the masked thief. She kept a safe distance away, enough that if he were to sense her, and assault her, Conner would have been close enough to take advantage of his move. She tried to talk herself into attacking. But she didn't want to get herself hurt so early in the fight. She had yet to see Dick make a real motion from the ground, and Kate was still missing from the fight. <br><br>It was just her and Superboy circling deathstroke. She was focused, her feet were careful, and she was breathing as slowly as possible to avoid making any kind of noise. She was convinced that this baddy was capable of hearing at a superhuman level. She had seen Conner do the same kind of thing in the backrooms and hallways of the Wayne Manor, and she had even spoken to him once about the advantages of a fighter with an ability to hear their opponent breathe. She was not perfect though, and every few seconds, she lost control of her exhale, causing the faintest of sounds to whoosh out of her nose. She was not going to engage, she had watched Nightwing try that, and it hadn't gone so well. She was hoping that her invisibility had still given her an edge. This large figure didn't exactly know who she was. He didn't know what she was armed with, and he didn't entirely know where she was going to send her next blow, or where she was even standing. She awaited in opening, taking a close examination of his armor, and the possible weak-points that he had exposed. <em>'Come one you bastard, open up. Everyone open's up. Give mamma a shot here. Give mamma a shot. Where's that chink in your armor, you bastard.'</em> She kept herself from trying to lash out at this villain. She opted to wait, and counter-attack if he tried anything on her. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>18-11-2015, 15:47:06</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(https://scontent-atl3-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xtf1/v/t1.0-9/10612540_641551049299455_104057332162481636_n.jpg?oh=1d5f1ec8708892438b26eef7d2a6bc3a&amp;oe=56AEADC5)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R Labs; Foyer<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2020 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Deathstroke<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Nightwing, Superboy, Spoiler<br><strong><em>Scene Music:</em></strong>&nbsp; Versus - Blood Seeker (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2grQ0WqY0A)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman arrives in the foyer and engages Deathstroke.<br><hr><hr><br>Batwoman had no doubt the rest of the team had moved in and engaged Deathstroke.&nbsp; The largest concern was how Spoiler was holding up but the young protege had the backing of Superboy and Nightwing, a combination of experience and raw power.&nbsp; For that purpose, she reduced the strenuous output in attempt to keep a running pace comparable to the unidentified suspect.&nbsp; It would delay her arrival to lend assistance but benefit her stamina by a small margin.&nbsp; The foyer was a straight path through open doors and her memory was just one step below eidetic, so the chance of losing position was nigh impossible.&nbsp; She would reach the destination shortly and hopefully in a timely manner.<br><br>Overhearing the cracking concrete ahead gave Batwoman two suspicions.&nbsp; Either Connor was engaging with more power than usual against thugs or something had broke as a result of the fight.&nbsp; In either outcome, the severity of threat was clearly heightened so rushing in with little more than reckless actions would be impractical and improbable towards success.&nbsp; She had already determined their opponent was not human but it was still a mystery if it were a case of innate metahuman physiology or the benefits of a suit.&nbsp; Technology used to amplify the human's conditioning through adrenaline or steroid-like boosts was not uncommon but came at risks.&nbsp; It could be possible for them to win the war of attrition if that were the case, using Connor as the defensive bulwark and using guerilla skirmishing tactics but she'd need confirmation.&nbsp; Otherwise, it could be unnecessary and open a plethora of escape opportunities.<br><br>Once she entered the foyer, Batwoman slowed her momentum to a halt with a quick analysis of the situation.&nbsp; Nightwing was on the ground atop cracked floor, explaining the noise she heard during approach.&nbsp; Superboy was bleeding and carried himself more defensive than she was accustomed to which suggested this armored man was truly a force to be reckoned with.&nbsp; Still, there was little evidence to confirm if it was a metahuman or not but there had to be something up his sleeve to reduce Superboy to bleeding.&nbsp; Perhaps the device he was carrying she took note of during pursuit which she could not locate at this time.&nbsp; She saw no sign of Spoiler so either she was keeping distance or using her cloaking technology to attempt stealth-oriented tactics.&nbsp; The entire analysis took fractions of a second and to anyone else, Batwoman briefly paused to catch a single breath.<br><br>Following the analysis, Batwoman began stepping towards Deathstroke with her chin tucked in.&nbsp; Leading with the chin was a simple element to forget at times but leaving it exposed and suffering jaw-aching attacks enough times forced it to become second-nature.&nbsp; Her gait was predatory and carried with convicted stride and she had tucked the left hand inside the fringe of her cloak.&nbsp; She would not underestimate this man but by taking point she instilled trust in the others to follow-up on her moment of engagement.&nbsp; Least of all Spoiler would, having trained her in the art of joint-attacks and taking advantage of openings.&nbsp; Superboy had enough of a tactically oriented mind and scientific means of logical deduction to do the same.&nbsp; Nightwing she had no need to concern herself with.&nbsp; He had earned his share of respect and squared off against multiple opponents.&nbsp; He would not be downed from that attack and knew what to do.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Quite rude to skip me like that,"</em> Batwoman said to Deathstroke, tone carried with neutral inflection and spoken with confidence.<br><em>"Don't tell me you're a misogynist or the type to afraid to hit women."</em><br><br>It required no savant to figure out she had a plan.&nbsp; Something was about to happen based on body language and Batwoman made no effort to reduce the chance of that being known.&nbsp; That's what she was wanting to be broadcasted above all else.&nbsp; You always have to fight someone that's exhibited a clear grasp of tactics with revere-reverse psychology.&nbsp; You place yourself in their shoes and envision yourself watching the opponent deploying tactics that would befuddle and disorient you.&nbsp; It could give you the edge of being predictable, unpredictable or predictably unpredictable.&nbsp; The only thing she waited on during this blatant straight-forward approach was his response to the taunt.&nbsp; Even if someone can multi-task, the act of speaking coherently took margins of brain capacity.&nbsp; Combine that with her approach method, forcing an opponent to start simulating what and when questions where the answers dictate the body's natural response and you reduce the capacity further.&nbsp; Then add the other variables such as a metahuman, a downed human that could get up and the possible factor of the unseen assailant that carries unknown paraphernalia -- anyone can quickly begin to see the odds stack against them.<br><br>Either the moment of response, or lack thereof, Batwoman initiated her actions.&nbsp; In the case of the latter, she would await the border of the unseen striking range between them before doing so.&nbsp; The three palmed throwing blades she kept concealed in the seen hand, alluding to her concealed hand having something up her sleeve were thrown outwards.&nbsp; All three would amount to no means of damage but there wasn't a man alive, metahuman or not, that didn't have a natural flinching reflex to projectiles thrown at you.&nbsp; It opened up defenses, presented opportunities and allowed a fleeting window of opportunity to engage.&nbsp; Once that flinch came, be it a defensive stance, a dodging maneuver or otherwise, the follow-up happened.&nbsp; The hidden hand <em>did</em> have something palmed and she lunged it forward towards Deathstroke's center of gravity the instant he was in motion.&nbsp; The staff extended outwards from its resting compact position to slam and force Deathstroke off of his feet if all went according to plan.&nbsp; If not, Deathstroke had to not only dodge one, but two attacks from Batwoman which opened up a significant margin of time for the other three to get into advantageous positions and unleash their own combination of attacks.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>19-11-2015, 02:53:16</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><hr><br>As much as he would have loved to investigate the possibility of a cloaked individual further, it turned out that Deathstroke had slightly more pressing concerns; Whilst Captain Tightpants had yet to fully recover from his counterattack, it looked like his kick had failed to down the SuperMask - though it had drawn blood, something that the SuperMask actually appeared <em>surprised</em> at; how powerful was he normally that he didn't expect to bleed even after taking a roundhouse kick to the face? Something that he would have to investigate, almost certainly; he wouldn't want to run into that individual without having some way of neutralising him, or things could go very badly in future - and he even heard the approaching footsteps of Fem-Bat running ever closer to the foyer, perhaps only a half dozen seconds or so away from bursting into the room and making it three - possibly four - on one. Odds that he liked, considering what he had seen thus far, but the longer he stayed here the more he risked the police showing up and, after they saw what they were dealing with, probably more Masks...and he was in no mood or state to be fighting an army of heroes. Even he could be overwhelmed, and considering that his suit wasn't even fully finished yet...well. He shouldn't have even been there that night, but with Ivy causing so much anarchy in the square, it seemed like a perfect opportunity to take a shot at the job. A mistake, as it turned out - it wasn't the quick in/out job he had anticipated - but there was no sense worrying about that now. Take the possibility of there being an invisible combatant in there - a certainty, he decided after a moment, as his sensitive ears picked up the tell-tale sharp breaths of somebody trying their hardest to make their breathing silent but failing, along with their footsteps occasionally scuffing across some uneven section of the floor - with them...had that robbery taken place early next week, as it had supposed to, his helmet would have had Thermal Imaging Filters (among other things) that would help identify if there was a Mask there. Right then, however? He had to go on his instincts and senses. He could do it - he doubted that they were a match for him even when invisible - but it made it a lot harder.<br><br>Of course, that was part of the fun...see how high the odds against you could be stacked and still not be enough to take you down. See how much effort it took them to force him into a retreat or, alternatively, how much punishment they took before deciding to "Bug out," as it were. It was thrilling...who was going to back down and retreat first? Who was going to be the first member of their little party to go down and not get up? Who was going to be the first one to break a bone, or snap some piece of equipment, or break a wall, or draw first blood? More importantly...how good were these Batman Wannabe's, and could they - even all together - pose a credible threat to him with that little box of wonders evening the playing field? He didn't know...and he was about to find out, if those rapid footsteps meant anything at all. Soon enough, Fem-Bat burst through the doors he had entered through not several minutes ago, paused - he recognised that look; the look of somebody who was trained and practised at taking in massive amounts of information quickly and sorting through it by habit rather than by conscious thought...the look of a professional, should she decide to make her skills marketable - and seemed to decide on a course of action almost instantly. So...she was probably the leader. How progressive. Regardless, she was evidently the biggest threat martially. Captain Tightpants' strategy of monkey-climbing him was pitiful at best, SuperMask seemed to be used to relying solely on his strength and very little actual technique and the Invisible Wonder seemed too cowardly to even engage directly...it was only Fem-Bat who instantly took the pose of a predator and an attacker. He was impressed; perhaps he had found a worthy opponent after all, even after her non-starter earlier. Of course, he wasn't about to let her know that; why would you give your opponents an ego boost before a fight? He needed to get into her head...make her angry, upset or distract her somehow. Make her make a mistake.<br><br>She spoke first as she closed the distance, obviously attempting to goad him with her taunt, possibly trying the same thing that he attempted with his taunting; that was, distracting and forcing him to devote brain capacity to formulating and speaking a coherent response....unfortunately for her, his brain capacity and his speed was nine times that of a normal human and superior even to most superhumans. "I have no issue hitting women, especially those who can prove a challenge and are therefore worth my time. But after that pitiful display in the hall? I'm not sure that you deserve to be called by either label." He even allowed himself to snicker for effect. The effort it took him to talk was negligible and normally didn't take any of his concentration, which obviously, she had no way of knowing. As she approached, he watched her posture carefully, his gaze occasionally flicking to the other two combatants, his ears pricked for signs of the fourth presence in the room, his brain keeping track of all the sensory information easily and in a fraction of the time it would take a normal human. Every vector of her attack was plotted in his head with an accurate and effective counterattack planned out...if she leapt forwards in an attack, he would simply need to catch her chosen method and use that as leverage. If she continued to close the distance slowly, he would simply need to close the last little distance himself and go on the offensive, forcing her to defend. If she tried to get behind him, he would need to use either his extendable staff or his firearms to counter her agility...and if her friends attacked as well, he would need to use their momentum against them...and swing freely, since he was guaranteed to hit a hostile. He watched her approach to the edge of striking distance, just outside what a normal human would be able to cover quickly enough to make reacting a pure reflex action, then stop. She coiled slightly...and sprung into action with a speed and grace that only Deathstroke himself could surpass. She truly was impressive...it was a shame that she was only human.<br><br>An ordinary person would flinch from reflex at the daggers thrown at him, but Deathstroke was no ordinary human. His eye analysed the daggers as they sailed towards him, and instantly dismissed them as threats; for one, they weren't nearly strong, sharp or travelling fast enough to even scratch his armour - both his plate and his mail were infused with volatile Promethium, which - though radioactive and therefore potentially deadly to humans (which Deathstroke didn't have to worry about thanks to his enhanced healing factor) - was almost indestructible. No puny throwing knives were about to get through what could take a punch from Superman himself and not break from the impact...and even if they did, they weren't big enough to cause him any serious harm. He would need to simply pull them out and the wounds would be reduced to mere scars in a matter of minutes, especially since their current trajectory took them straight towards his chest; his most solid and difficult to penetrate part. Perhaps other mercenaries who had that equipment wouldn't show any reaction, to show just how above it all they were...but Deathstroke wasn't like the others. He was tactical, and so - evidently - was Fem-Bat. He knew what she wanted; she wanted him to break and move first, so she had an opening to attack. It was a solid strategy, if your opponent was in any way doubtful as to the efficacy of his defences. But he knew something she didn't, and that gave him the advantage...he could fake the flinch, give her the opening she wanted, and in so doing create his own opening. The problem with attacking from any stance - especially over long distances - was that as soon as you did it, you opened up to a counterattack of some kind, if your opponent was fast enough to exploit it. And if you overcommitted or weren't able to react in time...you were done. So, he did exactly that; he flinched, as if from reflex - though keeping his eye on her despite his little spasm - and, sure enough, she leapt to the attack. <br><br>She flung herself forwards, her hand extending towards him, and it took him only a moment - thanks to the enhanced speed of his brain - that she was attacking with an extendible staff just like his. It likely wasn't made of volatile promethium - otherwise she would be dying of radiation poisoning right then rather than flipping and jumping and kicking - so would lack a lot of the extra punch of his weapons, but due to its forward momentum both from the leap and the extension, it would still pack a hefty punch. Thankfully, the flinch was only a fake; even as the knives clattered harmlessly off of his armour and fell to the floor with several loud clanging noises, Deathstroke stepped back and to the left, his right foot moving backwards behind his left as he half-span and stepped, the extending staff whistling past his chest. His hands snapped up instantly to catch it in midflight, holding it fast for a moment. "My point exactly." He chuckled again condescendingly even as he gave the staff a sharp tug, using as much of his strength as he could without sending her clattering into him...whether she was pulled along with the staff or she let go as he pulled, she was inevitably going to be yanked forwards by the power of her sheer momentum and the sudden tug on her weapon by a super-strong individual, and that's what he was counting on. He span again, turning to the left around his back, his right foot spinning on the floor, slipping under one of the discarded throwing knives and flicking it up into the air. It sailed straight up...and into his right hand, which span round with the rest of his upper body and snatched it out of the air as he stepped forwards, testing it in his hand briefly. He knew instantly the weight and the angle and the force required to throw it...it was of a decent weight and well crafted, so with his strength, it was going to fast and true. He grinned beneath his mask and, as he turned, he threw it underarm with as much force as he could manage straight at the nearest visible threat besides Fem-Bat; SuperMask. He didn't know how much damage the throwing knife would do, even travelling at the speed it was - as it left his hand, he estimated its speed to be about 100mph and he knew himself well enough to know that the throw would most likely be on target, if nothing else - but it would serve as a handy distraction. As far as he could tell, the knife wasn't even that sharp...but with any luck, it might draw some blood or leave a nasty bruise, given the speed it was travelling. Either way; it would delay him getting involved for a second or so, at least.<br><br>Meanwhile, he turned, span and stepped closer to Fem-Bat, his right hand moving to protect his body against a counterattack and hopefully disguise what his left hand was doing...as he jabbed quickly and viciously towards her side with his left fist as he attempted to get behind and beneath her guard, hopefully using her brief moment of being off-balance - at least, he assumed that she had been off balance - to attempt to end the fight quickly. He wanted to have fun, yes...but he had a job to do. And playing with these heroes was not part of it. Oh, the jab wasn't nearly hard enough to kill her if it connected; even he wasn't strong enough to kill somebody just by punching them in the side, and besides. The last thing he needed was the international attention on the robbery that came with the death of a Mask. He had been paid to keep it relatively quiet, and killing one of Gotham's biggest heroes was <em>not</em> staying subtle and quiet. If the punch connected, she would definitely live, but she might be out of the fight, if nothing else, nursing hopefully a broken rib or three. No matter how good you were, after all, a broken rib was a broken rib. And even if she twisted or blocked it, there was always an extremely good chance that it would scrape or bruise her anyway...and any wound he inflicted would be one more thing sapping her stamina and endurance. And if it came down to attrition? He didn't doubt he would win. At least two of the four combatants against him were only human...and his limits far surpassed what a normal human could keep up with, no matter how highly trained they were. Of course, even as he counterattacked, he kept his senses open for sounds of movement behind him...if either Captain Tightpants, The Invisible Wonder or SuperMask attacked, he wanted to be warned of it. Even he would suffer from an attack from behind if it took him by surprise. So...best to avoid that. He had a reputation to uphold, after all.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>20-11-2015, 03:09:46</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/LTCmOhA.jpg?1)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Conner "Kon-El" Kent&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong> Superboy<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Entering the premises<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2019 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler, Patchy the Pirate(because he's got one eye and a thief)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong> Help has arrived! Or something? Ugh why is this guy so fucking tough?!<br><hr><hr><br>Conner did a good job in not giving away Spoiler's position. This guy seemed to have at least a rough idea already though. Still, if Conner had turned and looked directly at where he could sense her, then all doubt would have been gone and he may have put her in danger. He was glad that hadn't happened and he'd kept his cool. It was surprisingly hard when this clown seemed to have a pre-emptive answer for everything they could throw at him. It was infuriating...was this how people felt when they fought him? Except worse since...well he was basically Superman for Krypton's sake.<br><br>&nbsp;A slow circling started, and Conner wanted to keep Slade's attention on him so he wouldn't notice or care about Spoiler doing the same. He trusted in her, but this guy was insanely dangerous. No one who could give Kate and Dick trouble like this wasn't. And he didn't even want to think about how much harder this would be for him now that it felt like they were equals in power. This was not a lesson Conner wanted to learn <em>ever</em>, much less right now with so much seemingly on the line. His eyes quickly darted over to Nightwing. He wanted to wince when he saw the fractured floor beneath him, and even moreso when he peered underneath his skin and saw the shape he was in on the inside. This bozo was no pushover. He heard Kate before she arrived, but he nodded at her all the same when she showed up. Her help right now was invaluable; everybody's was. <br><br>It seemed it might take all of them to stop this guy. He hated how that made him feel. After a small quip(what fight was complete without them?), she tossed knives at him with full intent to kill. Only she didn't kill and her knives stung if they hit flesh, but were designed to trigger a reaction instead of maim. Then she whipped out her staff and followed up with a second probing strike. His hands clenched and his muscles tensed. He couldn't just go gorilla on this guy and expect to overwhelm him with strength and powers galore. He had skills; Cadmus made sure of that. It was just easy to forget he had them when he could stomp the ground and cause a tremor.<br><br>&nbsp;Before he could move in to attack, Patchy countered Kate almost like he'd played her. Hell, he probably had. Then Conner narrowed his eyes and locked in on the knife that was suddenly hurtling toward him. Teasing the knife with his telekinesis, he stopped it in front of him, then snatched it out of the air and rushed forward. He'd planned on tossing more heavy shit at the guy, but Kate was too close for comfort and possibly in trouble after that rib shot he tried. He needed to get in there. Still, working with what he had told him that that mask only had one eye for a reason. A quick scan and yeah, that reason was the obvious one.<br><br>&nbsp;Still he figured it would have made more sense to let people think both your eyes worked. They wouldn't go for your obvious blind side like Conner was about to do. And even though this guy probably expected something like that on average, he didn't usually have Batwoman keeping him busy. As he got closer, his plan evolved. He stayed running as fast as he could while making sure he stayed in Slade's blindspot, and when he was right on top of him, Conner threw his fist forward toward <em>his</em> ribs. The difference was, his punch carried more than strength. Superboy was good at what he did, and he could improvise if the need arose, and since it had, this punch carried with it an invisible, telekinetic shockwave that at close range would be damn hard to evade. <br><br>And you couldn't really block something like that. It was like an invisible energy shotgun at this range. Hopefully he'd get blasted away like Conner envisioned this going when he first showed up. At his current strength though, he wasn't sure how powerful he could make the blast so he put a lot in it, hoping to not only give Kate and the others some breathing room, but hurt this guy.
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>20-11-2015, 04:09:14</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Deathstroke manages to twist and avoid the punch itself, but is taken by surprise by the Kinetic Force that pushes him off of his feet and sets him spinning in circles in the air. He manages to unsheathe his staff, however, and attempts a spinning-strike-counterattack as he is forced backwards through the air. He flips backwards and lands in a crouching position, looking at the three visible Heroes from across the room.<br><hr><hr><br>He didn't have the time to see whether or not his punch ending up connecting with Fem-Bat in any meaningful way; he felt it hit <em>something,</em> though his time and attention were taken up too soon for him to figure out if it was a forearm or her side, since apparently SuperMask had decided to attempt to get involved. Apparently, Deathstroke's attempted distraction with the knife hadn't worked that well - unsurprising, for a Mask who could throw televisions around with his mind, but still frustrating - and perhaps had galvanised the SuperMask into action...or perhaps it had stalled him, and he was reaching the brawl a split second later than he had wanted to. Either way, he was soon interjecting himself into the spar that had promised to almost break out between him and Fem-Bat - already the one that Deathstroke estimated to be the most skilled combatant among the three of them, even if SuperMask was physically more powerful - from his right, which also just so happened to be his blind side. So, apparently the SuperMask wasn't just the dumb gorilla of the group; he had some basic tactical awareness...if he was as strong normally as Deathstroke estimated, then that could have been a problem had he been at full power. Thankfully, he was fighting at Deathstroke's level...and Deathstroke had been fighting for far longer than that whelp had likely even been alive. See, there was a reason that Deathstroke's helmet broadcast his weakness; no, it wasn't because an extra eye hole would have ruined the look of the mask...it was because he was so confident in his abilities that he wanted his opponents to know exactly how handicapped the opponent who had just kicked their asses was. It was a psychological tactic; if he could beat you with one eye, then you obviously weren't as good as you thought you were.<br><br>And besides; with his enhanced senses, he didn't need his eye to tell him that he was about to be blindsided. His ears - already on high alert just in case of an invisible attack - pricked up and towards the sound of rushing wind and heavy footsteps, telling him just what was on his way. Unfortunately, having just committed to the punch, there was absolutely no way that Deathstroke could get out of the way completely, so he already knew that he was going to have to take the punch in some capacity...it just depended on how he was going to take it. He was obviously strong, and tactically aware, so he was likely aiming for the largest part of Deathstroke's gut to try and minimise the risk of missing or being deflected harmlessly, and if he was smart, he would be prepared for a counterattack. So, even as Deathstroke's left fist crunched into something - he still wasn't sure if it was the side or a deflecting forearm or even the tip of her staff coming round to parry - he twisted his body to his right, using the momentum of his last spin-step to turn faster than even he could usually manage from a standing start to at least try to reduce the punch to more of a glancing blow than a full-on direct hit. He wasn't worried about his bones being broken - volatile Promethium was almost indestructible - but if he got knocked off balance, with that many enemy combatants, things could have gone south really, really quickly. These four were no match for him individually, but together? They might just force him to a stalemate. He had to avoid giving them the upper hand, even for a moment. Sure enough, as his left eye came into viewing range of SuperMask - which was perhaps surprisingly quickly; try shutting one eye...your field of vision isn't cut off as much as you would expect; more like a quarter of your vision as opposed to half - he twisted his body as the punch connected, the side of the fist scraping past the armour. He still felt a slight impact as the immense strength slammed the armour against his side, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it would have been if -<br><br>- and before he knew what was happening, he found himself spinning faster in the same direction as he had twisted as a second, slightly delayed force punched into the spot where the SuperMask's fist had just skimmed past, like a powerful handgun being let off at close range. His side wasn't injured much - again, indestructible fitted armour definitely had its benefits - but he certainly felt it, the wind being knocked out of him briefly as he span around in place for almost half a revolution before even his brain caught up. Of course, catch up it did; he could think nine times faster than the fastest thinking human on the planet, so it didn't take long for him to regain his bearings. He didn't know what that was, but he would have time to figure it out after the room stopped spinning and he was out of immediate danger...he could feel that whatever force had impacted his side had also actually lifted him off the ground with the force, and his natural sense of balance and his habit of tracking his own trajectory combined to tell him that he was moving in a decidedly backwards direction even as his body began to float backwards in that direction. That movement was likely to increase as he gained height...so any counterattack had to be right then on his first revolution before he got too far away; a counterattack he would have to deliver if he was going to regain his feet and balance before being attacked again. Instead of attempting to stop the spin - that would be pointless in mid-air - he went with it, reaching behind his back with his right hand as he moved. He gripped the small stub of metal that was hooked onto his lower bandoleer and pulled it out, pressing the button on the side as he brought it in front of him. <br><br>Instantly, the Promethium staff that had rapidly become a staple of his arsenal in the last year or so extended in a fraction of a second to its full length as Deathstroke pulled it round from his back and - with the help of his left hand pushing the lower half along - swept it around in a large arc, directly targeted at both Fem-Bat and SuperMask's general head and torso area. Aiming was difficult with his stability-challenged form, but he was a good enough aim to at least be able to hit their bodies, at least, as he passed by and was propelled away from them sharply. Perhaps their heads was optimistic but he would settle for a good shot in the ribs or arm of either of them...see, Volatile Promethium, as well as being near-indestructible and highly radioactive and therefore potentially lethal to humans had a third quality; it was able to generate massive amounts of extra kinetic force that would appear as a small "Telekinetic punch" that would magnify the impact of the staff a good ten or twenty fold...so if they got hit as it passed? They would definitely know about it, even the SuperMask. Of course, now that he considered it, a Telekinetic Punch was likely what was used to send him flying...he already knew that the SuperMask possessed such an ability, and though he'd only ever heard rumours of such a tactic being used...well, it made sense, since how else would he have been able to produce that delayed push, unless he had some other power that Deathstroke couldn't understand? That latter was a possibility, of course, but the more likely option was just that he used his telekinesis in a way that Deathstroke hadn't expected...of course, he wouldn't catch him out with the same trick twice.<br><br>Of course, there was also the matter of spinning and flying backwards to address, but that was a trivial matter; arching his back as he flew backwards, he went with the momentum instead of fighting it, flipping over backwards heel-over-head in a pencil-backflip-corkscrew-thing, designed to use up the rest of his momentum...as powerful as it was, the telekinetic punch only created so much kinetic energy, which he used up by accelerating his rate of flip and spin...and as he felt himself come back round to be the right way up, he prepared his body for the inevitable landing...and landed heavily on the floor, his legs instantly bending and spreading to stop the rest of his momentum without hurting himself. The ground beneath him cracked with the force of impact as he came to a crouching stop, left knee bent beneath him, right leg spread out to the side and slightly bent - ready to push off at a moments notice - and his left hand resting on the floor to steady himself. His right arm was extended to his right, holding his staff along his arm and behind him so that one end jutted off to the right, past his leg and out, and the other side ended just past his left shoulderblade, resting along his upper back. He looked up at the group of three that now stood, lay and possibly sprawled out across the room from him, perhaps thirty-odd feet away from where he was crouching. He tilted his head slightly, as if amused. He didn't say anything...and he didn't have to. He thought the message was clear; <em>Is that all you've got?</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>20-11-2015, 06:59:17</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.news/NE2szDLyUIEU69_1_1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Nightwing<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family<br><strong>Time:</strong> October 17, 2015; 2025 hours | Saturday<br><strong>Location:</strong> STAR Labs | East Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Superboy, Batwoman, Spoiler, Deathstroke.<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Dick gets up. Dick might have a broken rib. Dick talks to Alfred, learns a little bit about who they're fighting. Dick thows a flash bang at Deathstroke. Dick trades quips while performing a non-standard grappling throw.<br><hr><hr><br>Nightwing let out a groan that just served to make the pain in his chest worse. Batman had trained him long ago in how to match pain felt to potential injuries, and it felt like Dick might have gotten a broken rib.<br><br><em>‘Oh god, I really hope that isn’t broken’</em> Dick thought to himself as he pushed himself off the ground, jumping back into a defensive position as Kate rushed in to try and throw their assailant off his defenses.&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><br>Just as he was about to reach for his comm unit and see if Oracle could help him at all with information on their assailant, a small burst of static hit his ear which was promptly followed by the precise English accent that Dick had grown up hearing.<br><br>“Nightwing sir, would you like some assistance in regards to the photos spoiler just uploaded?” Alfred asked before flashing a few photos of their masked opponent into a corner of the hud contained in Dick’s mask. <br><br>“Bat cave 1, I was just about to call you” Dick said, sliding back in the confidence that Alfred had come to expect from him.&nbsp; <br>“And yeah, I could use some notes on this guy. He's roughly six foot one and clearly displays enhanced strength, reflexes, and senses.”<br><br>“There are a few villains in the database fitting that description. Let me see… I’m sending you all the possible matches”<br><br>Suddenly hundreds of lines of text flew across the bottom of Nightwing’s hud, his brain firing on all cylinders as he tried to match the name and what he knew of them to the person standing in front of him.<br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">“Clayface: shapeshifter. possesses exceptional strength.”</span><em><br>‘Possible, but Basil is usually less controlled than this. We would have seen some tell.’</em><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">“League of Assassins. Multiple Members: The Sensei, David Cain”</span><br><em>‘The League wouldn’t have bothered to leave the guards alive’</em><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">“Henry Ducard: No exceptional strength. Possible exo suit. ”</span><br><em>‘Wouldn’t bother with a costume, he’d just wear a wetsuit if he was stealing’</em><br><br><span style="font-family: courier;" class="bbc_font">“KGBeast: two inches taller than requested height, but possesses advanced strength.”</span><br><em>‘No, Beast hits much harder than that. And he’s less controlled’</em><br><br>It took only an instant, but it was still frustrating Dick as time he was wasting. Right in front of him, Superboy was trying to punch out the guy, using the TK punch they'd been practicing, and Dick was missing it!<br>“Are you sure there’s no one else?”<br><br>“Apologies sir, but most of the villains on the registry are a good sight taller if they possess exceptional strength. Or aren’t nearly so strong at the height. The only one left on the list is from a case you helped batman with about 13 years back.”<br><br>“13 years? An assassin who was hired to kill Harvey Dent, right?” Dick asked, memories already coming back to him. It had been one of the few opponents that he and Batman hadn’t been able to beat then, instead only being able to push him far enough that he failed to assassinate Dent. He hadn’t fought this new villain enough to compare fighting styles directly, but there was a familiarity there. An efficiency and a pragmatism that both seemed to share. It could have been as simple as that they were both trained by the military of the same country, but Dick wasn’t buying it. There were too many similarities in build, in strength, in speed, in everything. The only thing different was the outfit, but Dick Grayson couldn’t say shit about someone changing their costume. <br><br>“Correct sir. It appears he went by the name of The Commander. Batman seemed to follow his career ever since your encounter. I left him off the initial list since there had been no activity after 2009. Batman put the status as ‘Presumed Killed In Action’.”<br><br>“Unless this guy is someone new that’s the one. Can you tell me anything about him?” &nbsp;Bruce might have yelled at Dick for assuming that it couldn’t have been a new hero, he doubted it. Bruce believed in logic, in deductive reasoning, but they’d both had their asses saved by gut reactions too often for either of them to ignore that unshakable feeling. Dick could feel it in the back of his mind that this new mercenary wasn’t new to the game; He was too experienced, too skilled, to be a newcomer. But more than that, he’d been too smart and stealthy to be a newcomer when he came into town; no noise on the job, no gathering of a crew, nothing. There had been zero rookie mistakes. <br><br>“Unfortunately not sir. Most everything Batman has listed is heavy conjecture based solely on their one time meeting together. Enhanced Speed, Strength, Reflexes, and senses. Skilled in the use of a variety of weapons and fighting style. Extensive Military Training. Etcetera.”<br><br>Dick stifled a sigh. He didn’t know much more than he knew before, but now he had a history. He had something to banter with. And that meant he had a way to try and get more information for the records.<br>“Keep looking into it Batcave 1, and let me know if you come up with anything.”<br><br>Dick would have liked a little more information about the guy before walking into the ring with him again, but such was the life of a costumed hero. Besides, he remembered a little about fighting the mercenary. He was more than a match for any one normal human fighter. To get one up on him, they had to work together and not give him a chance to get his bearings. Their best bet was to use their numbers, their tactical training, and confuse him.&nbsp; <br><br>At that plan, Dick couldn’t help but smile. Confusing his opponents and keeping them off guard was a specialty of his. A small flash bang flew towards Deathstroke. Certainly not strong enough to blind the would be thief, but enough to give Nightwing just the smallest window of time. Again he leapt through the air towards the mercenary, angling for the villain's neck, but there were a few subtle difference this time. Instead of his legs propelling him off the ground, Dick had used his arms to launch himself towards The Commander. And instead of his escrima stick being the thing he hoped to wrap around the thief's neck, this time it was his legs. <br><br><br>“You know, I thought you seemed familiar. What was it, Captain Crunch? No wait, the Commander, that’s it.” Dick said with a smile while his legs wrapped around the mercenary's neck, his body running perpendicular with the ground, his hands firmly attached to the ground, thanks to the enhanced grip on his gloves. <br><br>It was entirely possible that Dick was wrong, and that this wasn’t the same assassin he and Batman had fought more than a decade previously. But Dick Grayson had been trained by Bruce Wayne, one of the world’s greatest detectives, and he’d learned the hard way to always trust his gut instinct. Besides, even if he’d guessed wrong, then the thief's reaction would tell him a great deal. Now all he had to do was push the issue. <br><br>“This is like a craigslist missed connection. ‘13 years ago. You, failed assassin wearing all black. Me, plucky young sidekick with a penchant with short pants’. I mean, I’ve grown up a bit since those days. I’m not the boy wonder anymore', So I can't be too mad at you for not recognizing me." He quipped while ensuring that his next move would go off without a hitch. He’d done it before of course, but each time it was dangerous.<br><br>There was one other difference that separated this attempt at ending the fight with The Commander earlier than the other; this move wasn’t designed to choke him out. Less of grapple, this was more of a throw that just happened to involve getting a sharp grip on an opponent's neck.<br><br>Once he’d gotten a grip on the opponent, and he’d managed to secure a grip on the ground (Or a wall, or a pipe, or really any surface that would hold his weight), all Dick had to do was give a sharp twist of his hips to one side, left or right it all depended on the situation. And then, so long as the mercenary didn’t have magnets in his shoes or some gravitational power he wasn’t aware of, the large body of The commander would be thrown into the ground with a force that even his enhanced body wouldn’t be happy with.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>20-11-2015, 16:30:47</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:18 - 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Deathstroke falls to the ground, hard, and is momentarily winded. He rolls quickly though, and gets to his feet, hoisting Nightwing up with him. He suspends him above and in front of him, ready to power him down onto the ground and finish his involvement in the fight. <br><hr><hr><br>Of course, Deathstroke didn't have much more time to mock or banter with the heroes across the room; as soon as his head had tilted to one side, he caught sight of Captain Tightpants making his move towards him; he hadn't noticed him get up from his little tumble on the ground, but apparently a flip onto concrete wasn't enough to take him down for good...you know, Deathstroke at least had to hand it to the boy; he was persistent and far, far more durable than most humans nowadays. A blow like that would have easily shattered most human soldiers ability and will to fight, but this boy? He got up and was evidently going for another try...impressive. Stupid, but impressive nonetheless. He was closer to Deathstroke than the others - he had probably been trying to flank him again which, despite how it had ended for him last time, was still a viably effective plan; if your opponent couldn't see you, you had more chance of being successful in your attack - and was moving into an aggressive posture. He seemed to take that whole "if your opponent can't see you" idea to heart as, as he started moving, he fished into his small, almost non-existent belt and pulled out something small and round in shape. He hurled it at Deathstroke and, small as it was, he didn't realise what it was until it was a fraction of a second too late. His helmets light filtration system clicked into place a moment too late as the Flashbang went off right in his vision, temporarily causing spots to appear in front of his eye. The lens stopped the majority of the bang, but enough had gotten through to disorientate him for a fraction of a second...and apparently, that was all that was needed. Deathstroke managed to blink away the small level of blindness he had been afflicted with just in time to see Captain Tightpants suddenly significantly closer than he had been previously. Deathstroke only had a moment to react to the fresh grapple - he appeared to like his grapples, Tightpants did - and that wasn't nearly enough time for even him to get out of the way or knock Nightwing out of the air.<br><br>He did, however, have time for a counter. Tightpants's trajectory and body angle told him that he was looking to wrap his legs around his throat rather than his hands this time, probably in a kind of throw designed to get him off balance...with the momentum and force of his probably very effective hips, he would even be able to knock Deathstroke over with the move...and there was nothing that he could do about it on such short notice. Had he been prepared, he likely could have caught the moron and thrown him off, but the flashbang - as ineffective as it had been compared to its likely hoped efficacy - had screwed that plan up. He barely had enough time to drop his staff to the ground and lift his hands up to grip Tightpants's legs as they sealed around his head...but they weren't going to pull them off of him. Oh no. He had something different planned. He ignored the brief banter from Tightpants - bantering in this situation would just cost focus, and he had to time what he wanted to do perfectly in order to pull it off. He could have thrown Tightpants's legs off - the legs were locked, yes, but around his neckplate rather than his actual neck - but he had a different counter in mind...of course, it was a surprise that Tightpants was able to ID him so quickly, considering the lack of clues and the completely different look...but that was irrelevant. He had only fought Batman and Robin - who was obviously who Tightpants was, since he obviously wasn't Batman;&nbsp; he wasn't skilled enough to be Batman - once, but Tightpants apparently remembered...hard to remember getting your ass kicked, after all. Really, Robin was only there for support. Had it been him versus Robin, the fight would have been over in minutes. It was Batman that was the real threat out of the two back then. Of course, he had evidently gotten better...but so had Deathstroke.<br><br>He twisted with the hips, allowing himself to get thrown to the ground with as much force as Tightpants could muster and, even with the thick armour and his enhanced body, the impact knocked at least some of the air out of his lungs and jarred his body a little, setting his head spinning for half a moment...of course, his healing factor fixed the issue in less than a handful of seconds since it was only a slight bruising, but still...they could hit relatively hard. Not bad. Maybe the fight wasn't going to be completely boring after all...but Tightpants had made a very basic mistake; he had failed to do anything of note with a grapple the first time, and he had tried it again, expecting it to have different results. He needed to learn why you didn't try the same tactic on Deathstroke, of all people, twice. As he hit the floor - after a moments hesitation as he got his breath back - he rolled to the side and onto his front - his arms still keeping Tightpants's legs firmly clamped onto his shoulder, preventing him from rolling away as he used all of his considerable strength to keep him bound to him - and kicked his legs up under his body. Using his immense strength, he powered himself up to a standing platform, his legs straining a little at the unusual angle and the effort of lifting up another fully grown man - though he could manage it (he <em>could</em> bench press in excess of a ton, after all), it wasn't exactly <em>easy</em> to lift two men up from a laying start - and shifted one of his hands to pull Tightpants back and body up so that he was effectively sitting on Deathstroke's shoulders in a kind of reverse-shoulder-sit like a small child. <br><br>"The only 'Wonder' about you, <em>boy,</em>" he said, then trailed off. He had actually managed to wind Deathstroke and, more, had been partly responsible for his only failed contract...a black mark on an otherwise spotless record. He couldn't get a rematch against Batman, much to his chagrin, so Tightpants here had to do. "...is that you're not dead yet." He hoisted Tightpants up further, shifting his arms so that one hand gripped at his shoulder and one moved to hold the side of his throat and extending his arms so that Tightpants was suspended higher up than before, leaning out over the ground. All Deathstroke needed to do was push forwards and down...and Tightpants would be done for. A six foot, super strength propelled collision with concrete? He wouldn't be getting up. He just needed a half second more time, and one of the heroes would be off the playing field. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>21-11-2015, 08:15:51</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b483/aliashappens/4495857-3660430-spoiler_zpszcif2ege.jpg)</div><hr><br><strong>Name:</strong> Stephanie Brown<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> The Spoiler<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> | STAR labs | <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Batwoman | Superboy | Nightwing | Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Spoiler moves out of Batwoman's way. She crouches next to Dick to check to see why he's talking to himself, then realizes that he's talking to Alfred. She snaps pictures of Deathstroke again as he fights with Conner and Batwoman. Stephanie is overwhelmed for a moment, doubting herself. As Deathstroke flies through the air, she crouches, as it had happened close enough to her for her to react. She considers jumping in with Dick, but doesn't. As Deathstroke is lifting Dick into the air, Stephanie unleashes her three section staff, and strikes at Deathstrokes knees multiple times. She performs a rotating body spinning staff move to give herself distance.<br><hr><hr><br>'Alright, so far, so terrifying.' Stephanie could hear Kate coming down the hall. She made a brash motion, she switched the grip on her staff, and dashed backwards, forcing herself high into the air and away, the chains on her weapon clanged together,and as her staff folded into three parts, each section smacked against each other. The wood spoke, and <strong>&gt;cl-aack&lt;</strong> cracked out into the air. she had the weapon compressed now, in her left hand. Stephanie arched her back, and forced herself into a one hand back hand spring. She tucked the weapon under arm. Her invisible body sprang in Dick's direction. Two 'tip-taps' snuck out of her feet as she stuck the landing. Stephanie had given Batwoman plenty of space to come through the doorway, and in plenty of time even. 'Careful Steph, Careful.' She was cat-walking toward Dick, who had managed to start talking to himself. 'Not good.' Stephanie lowered herself near Dick to hear what he was talking about. She didn't bother saying anything, or touching him, she just listened. <br><br>'Alfred,' the thought occurred to her quickly. 'Good.' Batwoman launched through the door and clashed with the big-bad. The Spoiler looked up to watch it happen. Stephanie squeezed her palm, taking a good image of Batwoman engaging with Deathstroke. It didn't cross her mind to listen to Dick's half of the conversation with Alfred. The fight was happening now, and her tactical mind was too focused to listen to anyone say anything. She captured another image, inching away from Dick. It felt appropriate to take a picture of everything while she couldn't involve herself in the fight. 'Batwoman told me to do something. Fuck.' She was scared. 'Stay behind Dick. No. That wasn't it. Stay close to her, and don't do anything she wouldn't do?' Confusion racked her consciousness. 'No, that wasn't it. Follow orders? or something like that.' Batwoman had told her to stay close to her side, as they had practiced. But Spoiler couldn't remember that now. The action seemed to explode right in front of her eyes. It took everything for Stephanie to keep her vision focused on each individual move. Eventually, she decided to let her camera do the hard work. She had not exactly seen what had happened, it was hard to distinguish each attack when everything was happening so fast. But she had taken almost two dozen pictures as she slowly made her way back toward the fight. <br><br>She was gaining a better grasp on her breathe, and she was taking large slow inhales, limiting her breathing as much as possible, purely focused on the ninja like training that Dick had been giving her. Her confidence was building, but she was starting to feel weak and powerless. Batwoman was taking damage, Nightwing was in pain, and Superboy was bleeding, almost getting knifed. 'C'mon Steph, you gotta do something here. Think. Think.' Batwoman's assault had not gone the way that Steph was expecting it to go. 'That armor is well designed.' She stopped squeezing her palm. She crossed her her arm over her face and lightly wrapped her fingers around her weapon.<br><br>It was sudden, The large armored man was coming through the air, and roughly in her direction. Spoiler lowered her body, and hugged the ground, it was obvious that his trajectory was not going to send him directly over her head, but she didn't want to take any chances. 'Nice shot Superboy.' Stephanie rose quickly, realizing that she had ducked for no reason. 'Don't worry, no one saw that.' And, no one had. Dick was closer to the baddy than she was, and he was starting to rise. The Spoiler's instincts had not changed. As she rose, she continued to close in on the fight, it had just shifted to the other side of the room. Steph wanted to swing her staff, she was tired of waiting. 'I'm getting real tired of this stealth thing,' she thought as her feet silently carried her toward the spinning, and unnaturally swift monstrosity before her. She was about five meters and counting 'I'm not even convinced that it's working, anyway.' The villain had yet to really expose himself to her, and she had almost gotten in the way when Batwoman came onto the scene. In addition, Nightwing and Batwoman might have figured by now that she had run home like a little school girl. Dick was on his feet, and Stephanie felt the urge to dive in for an attack along his side. But they didn't have any kind of organized plan for this moment, and he didn't know that she was there. <br><br>'Oh...no,' Dick was in the air again, clinging to her enemie's neck with his legs. Stephanie was in tow as Nightwing improvised an outstanding maneuver. It had looked like it had been a practiced routine. Her master and the hood flipped through the air, Nightwing had succeeded in slamming their opponent to the ground. 'we're starting to do damage. It's a real fight,' things were looking up. Stephanie was closing in at a steady pace.<br><br>The chains on her weapon opened up, and they started to rattle as Stephanie gripped the center staff. She had orirignally planned to perform a four-form spin, with both hands on the center of the staff, whipping the ends around with both arms in order to unleash a fully charged, spinning momentum hammer once Dick had gotten out of the way. She would get it to max speed, then grip one end and drop it down onto the bastards head before he had a chance to move. But, she quickly realized that the hood in the room was in control, and he was rising with Dick in his arms. 'Fuck.' The staff was already spinning, she had to do something now, before Nightwing got slammed against concrete again. 'It's go time.' The sound of her staff gaining speed was obvious, everytime it hit the ground, a percussive snare shot filled the foyer; <strong>&gt;Fffkt- - - ffkt&lt;</strong> Her staff was slapping against the ground. Spoiler started to spin her body, and rotate the staff up and down to give the weapon force.&nbsp; 'Even if he hears me, it's too late.' Both of Deathstroke's hands were occupied. Her speed tripled, quickly, and then doubled as she closed in, the wood was rhythmic and spastic at the same time; <strong>&gt;ffkt - ffkt - ffkt- fkt- fkt-fkt&lt;</strong> Her staffs free sections were slapping the ground as her full speed four-form doubled her speed once more <strong>&gt;kt-kt-kt-kt-kt&lt;</strong> Stephanie got full momentum quickly, and she leaped into play.<br><br>As Dick reached up to the top of Deathstroke's lift, The Spoiler had put Deathstroke's legs underneath her spinning staff. She was targeting the soft flesh behind his knees. She had looked for a weak spot in his armor for some time, and at least there wasn't any plates of hard metal there. The chains in her staff allowed her to gain speed as she slapped at her target. A regular staff would have stopped motion after one strike. This brutal weapon could batter the same region again and again. She couldn't see her weapon, but she knew that her pinkie-finger led the way. She knew what she was aiming for, and a three section staff had a persistent nature.<strong> &gt;Ktukat- Kt! Kt- kta- kt-kt&lt;</strong> seven strikes in rapid succession. It had sounded like a jazz rhythm, or a woodpecker trying to crack the hood of a car. Steph hadn't seen it, but she was confident that at least three of her strikes had hit him exactly where she was aiming, right where the tendons of the hamstring connected to the ligaments in the knee. She had been aiming for both legs, but she was fairly sure that she had favored the hits to his right leg with all but two blows. <br><br>Steph spun away from Deathstroke after three and half, double grip center-section spins. She kept the staff spinning in a circle around her waist as she spun and stepped away from the large man that she had just made contact with. She brought the staff up above her head, and kept it spinning, only the chains were rattling now, she had the edges far from the ground. Once she felt like she was a safe distance away, she left one hand to do all of the work, the staff smacked the ground once,&nbsp; and then that <strong>&gt;cl-ack&lt;</strong> sound of the compressing staff rang out again. <br><br>Stephanie's free hand reached to the switch on her belt, and The Spoiler revealed herself, turning the invisibility belt off. Appearing slowly, she gingerly grabbed both ends of her staff. Steph bent the weapon in front of her face, locking her eyes onto Deathstroke only seconds after she slapped the back of his knees seven times. She watched to see what he would do now that he knew where she was, and more importantly, if her attack had saved Dick from certain injury.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>25-11-2015, 16:09:35</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://tansyrr.com/tansywp/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/batwoman-1.jpg)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R Labs; Foyer<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2026 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Oracle<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Spoiler,&nbsp; Deathstroke,&nbsp; Superboy,&nbsp; Nightwing<br><strong><em>Scene Music:</em></strong>&nbsp; West One Music - Battle Scene (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTn-b9lcCVE)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Kate avoids physical harm and retrieves a strange device inside the black cube Deathstroke carried with him during her pursuit into the foyer.&nbsp; Unwanting to risk clustering the fight currently, she deposits herself at the exit and attempts communication to Oracle only to receive no answer...<br><hr><hr><br>&nbsp; <span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>A</strong></span>t this point, Batwoman was analyzing every fraction of a second to a meticulous degree.&nbsp; She needed to understand how this opponent moved, what edges he had over them as a whole, what was successful or failure and how to best approach him again.&nbsp; Everything leading up to this moment was testing waters and now she believed she had a confident grasp of things.&nbsp; First, however, she had to react to his counter against her initial attack.&nbsp; It was designed specifically to place herself in potential harm's way so the team could attack in unison.<br><br>It seemed everything went according to plan initially.&nbsp; The trio of non-lethal throwing blades created an opening of false pretense, resulting in her half-a-step advance which was accompanied by the staff's thrust towards Deathstroke's center of gravity.&nbsp; Deathstroke dodged with a counter-clockwise pivot and grabbed the staff, tugging after a ham-fisted attempt at insulting her.&nbsp; When he tugged, he decided to spin around instead of going directly for a strike, which left her free to assume control of momentum.&nbsp; Instead of fighting physics, she tucked and crouched into a roll, allowing momentum to carry her forward and beyond Deathstroke's striking range to avoid the punch to her side.&nbsp; During this roll, she caught something in the corner of her eye and spared fractions of a second to glance at it directly.<br><br>An object rest underneath the receptionist desk which she recognized as the object Deathstroke had carried with him during her pursuit.&nbsp; That was obviously what he came here for and he was coincidentally confident enough in his belief to take all four of them out then make a casual escape.&nbsp; Thankfully, she was able to reorient on the fight quick enough to spot Superboy land a decent blow to Deathstroke's torso, sending him spiralling away and towards the floor.&nbsp; Deathstroke's attempt at a counter was clumsy too.&nbsp; Batwoman simply moved her head to avoid his staff and decided to roll towards the desk while Spoiler and Nightwing followed up on the attack.&nbsp; All in one movement, she rolled and fished the black, nondescript cube close enough for her to inspect it.&nbsp; Batwoman lifted it and twisted it about to see all sides, before opting to keep it in hand. <br><br>She was confident he was too busy fighting her team to really understand what she had done.&nbsp; She had wasted enough time however.&nbsp; By the time she oriented on the fight again, she took instant note that Spoiler had come out of stealth and issued a rapid series of strikes to Deathstroke's legs.&nbsp; With Nightwing hoisted up and Superboy closer, she opted to keep her distance and move towards the foyer's exit.&nbsp; This would allude Deathstroke to the fact she was serving as a final obstacle to his escape when he spotted her.&nbsp; Once in position, Batwoman tried to contact Felicity.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Oracle, what is the remaining ETA on Star Labs security personnel?"</em> she asked, only to receive nothing in response.<br><em>"Oracle?"</em>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>28-11-2015, 22:52:57</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:25 - 20:26<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong>&nbsp; Deathstroke is forced by Spoilers attack to set Captain Tightpants down more "delicately" than he would have otherwise liked, but notices Batwoman at the last moment. Deciding to stop “playing around,” he launches into a fierce counter-attack flurry designed to negate any further threat from her.<br><hr><hr><br>Fortunately for Captain Tightpants, it appeared that his invisible ally - who had wisely remained concealed up until that point - had managed to gather the stones necessary to close the distance and reveal their presence. He heard them approaching, of course - they weren't even trying to be stealthy at that point - but given that he was at that point occupied with lifting Tightpants off the floor, there was nothing much he could do besides try and finish dealing with Tightpants before she reached them. Alas, even with his superior strength and speed, the Invisible Mask proved to be in much better shape than he had dared to hope and covered the relatively short distance in a good time - for a human, that was; it was nothing on his own speed - and from the sounds of her footsteps and her breathing, had even managed to flank him. Had he not been tied up with dealing with Tightpants, she would never have gotten that close, but that was the advantage of working in a well-drilled team...they always managed to cover each other when it mattered. Just as Deathstroke was about to power Tightpants down into the concrete again, the Invisible Mask - who, as she uncloaked, he realised was actually another female and (from his estimation based on height and body build) was actually surprisingly young (though he supposed he couldn't say anything about age; he joined the military when he was 16, after all) - materialised beside him. He heard the weapon as she uncoiled it, an exotic, unique weapon that he knew from experience was very difficult to control at times, even when he used it, and braced himself for the impact. With Tightpants on his shoulders, he couldn't do much regarding defences without risking losing even his considerable balance except simply brace himself for the attack that was bound to at least sting, even through the woven mesh of his join armour. Whilst also laced with woven Promethium, it was significantly thinner than his plate, and was the logical place to attack...if she was even halfway decent, she would target his knee to try and take him to the ground.<br><br>And, as it turned out, he was correct; even as he pushed his weight forwards to drive Tightpants down, he felt several sharp, stinging strikes to his knee that, despite the armour, forced him to bend his leg to best resist the obvious attempt at breaking his joint. If he locked his leg, the strikes would do far more damage than if he simply went with their momentum, and as good as he was, a broken bone was a broken bone and fighting four halfway skilled opponents with a broken bone? You were never going to win. Not even he fancied those chances. Of course, the sudden kneeling posture of his left leg took a sizeable portion of the force behind Tightpants descent away, and instead of crunching him down and hopefully knocking him out, Deathstroke ended up throwing him to the ground with about half of the intended force. Whilst more than enough to at <em>least</em> leave a series of nasty bruises and possibly break a bone or two, it was by no means a "killing blow." The concrete cracked again, though only to the same extent that it had when he had thrown Tightpants over his shoulder on his first attack. Given what he had seen, it was likely that after a brief "winded" period, he would be able to stagger to his feet again...though hopefully his acrobatic nonsense would be at an end. The thing about doing all those flips and handsprings was that you couldn't do them if every part of your core and upper body hurt like a bitch. At least, that's what he hoped. If the moron tried jumping on him again, he'd just put a bullet in his brain. If you tried the same used-and-countered tactic three times in a row, you obviously weren't smart enough to be allowed to reproduce. He pushed upwards on Tightpants legs and flipped them over from his shoulder, sending them sideways onto the ground heavily as his eye flickered over towards The Kid. She'd managed to flank him <em>and</em> successfully hit him...whilst it wasn't down to martial skill and more down to accurate positioning and timing...those were things that were even harder to learn. Skill, you could get. Intelligence and tactical awareness? A sizeable portion of that relied on spacial awareness and common sense, most of which came naturally. Or not, as the case may be. He found himself, surprisingly, somewhat impressed. Though young, she at least had potential.<br><br>Still, he had a job to do; even as he looked up, he could see from across the room that Fem-Bat had discovered....<em>something.</em> She hadn't leapt to the attack while he was distracted, though she could – he estimated – make up the distance rather quickly given her relatively high speed, instead opting to turn and retrieve...something...<em>Damnit!</em> He had let himself get distracted by the fight too much, and now his prize was almost out of his reach; if she so desired, she could run now and put him at a serious disadvantage in needing to get past the three other heroes to get to her...and then he would be attacked from behind by the three he left in the dust as he and Fem-bat fought over the device. His damn hubris had – for once – caught up with him and bit him in the ass. No matter...he would get the box back, then escape. He had played around enough, and it was time to start evening the odds. They thought he was good before? Now, he was serious. He needed to end this farce of a fight quickly, and that meant taking them down one on one. Hopefully, Tightpants was temporarily out of commission after that most recent drive into the floor – as weakened as it was, it was still plenty strong, after all – and he could – he assumed – take out The Kid quickly...and then he would just need to deal with SuperMask; that could be a problem, though he had already shown a susceptibility to unorthodox attacks...so perhaps instead of a pragmatic, simple attack, he could take him unawares by trying something flashy. Something to consider. Still...The Kid was the closest one to him, and she needed to go down first, before the others could come to her aid.<br><br>He tensed up slightly and, without further delay, launched into his counterattack before she could mount any further assaults. Pushing off of his now-bent left leg, he jumped up with surprising strength and speed and brought his right leg singing through the air in a jumping side-kick, designed to at least push her off balance as she avoided or parried it...but if it hit, so much the better. She was more stunned for what was to come next. He didn't put much power into it, of course - enough to stun her or stagger her, but not his full strength...if his full strength hit, he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up decapitating her outright. As he landed, he quickly brought his right leg down and stepped onto it, placing his weight onto that foot instead as his left leg - the one that had been struck - lashed out in a twisting back-kick, designed to push her back or make her double over or at least throw her off balance again. As his body turned to follow the leg back into a forward stance, he scooped down and snatched up his discarded Promethium staff, twisting it into a vertical grip as he brought it around and into his left hand, which pulled it back as his right hand thrust it upwards in a bottom-to-top arc, aimed directly at The Kid. He didn't let his momentum go to waste, however, using it to twist his body around, taking the end of the staff that had ended the previous motion pointed out behind him and using it to stab at the Kid from a reverse-facing back stance. Shifting his left leg - the one that was now closest to The Kid - forwards, he pushed his right leg back around in the opposite direction so he started to twist back the way he had come, twisting and spinning the staff as he went so that when he lashed out for the final time, it was the end that had directed a jab at her that arced around to strike towards her body, hopefully being the closing strike that put a lid on her involvement in the fight. He turned his head to the side slightly to keep all of the heroes in his field of vision...divide and conquer. A well-oiled team was tough to take down together, so he needed to neutralise them individually, if at all possible.<br><br>Of course, everything had moved a little too quickly for even him to actually see which strikes had missed, hit or been parried - the entire counterattack had taken only a handful of seconds - but if she was still standing at the end of this flurry, he would be surprised. Then again...this fight had been full of surprises, so who knew? He hadn't initially expected Tightpants to get up from being flipped over his shoulder, but he had. Who knew how durable these heroes were? He'd have to do some research if he ever came to Gotham again...he wouldn't want to run across these four a second time without knowing exactly who he was dealing with, especially since they were likely to go home after this fight and try to figure out who he was as well. Well...if he could take even one of these combatants out of the fight, perhaps it would force the others to withdraw. Or maybe they'd fight harder to avenge their fallen comrade...either or. Masks that he didn't know were always so unpredictable. It made him a little twitchy when he wasn't certain what was going to happen...but it also invigorated him as well. He liked not knowing, being uncertain, having to try to predict the unexpected...it kept him on his toes, that's for certain, and he could always use the practice in improvising and thinking on the fly. Of course, he would have preferred to do that with the Cube fixed to his back; it was exactly that rush that had endangered his contract, and that was not a good thing. He just needed to make sure that not doing his homework properly and then deciding to show off didn't cost him that job, or he would be most unhappy. Unforeseen circumstances were all good and exciting, but he had a job to do...and he had to make sure that it got done.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>29-11-2015, 06:32:54</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.news/NE2szDLyUIEU69_1_1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Nightwing<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family<br><strong>Time:</strong> October 17, 2015; 2025 hours | Saturday<br><strong>Location:</strong> STAR Labs | East Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Superboy, Batwoman, Spoiler, Deathstroke.<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Nightwing manages to not break any bones by falling with grace. He organizes a plan for the team, with Batwoman and Spoiler taking the device and running away, and Dick and Conner staying behind to hold off Deathstroke. He throws a smoke-bomb at Deathstroke's feet and lets loose a barrage of batarangs/shuriken <br><hr><hr><br>Dick had been preparing to twist his way out of The Commander’s grasp, using the villains back as a springboard to launch himself across the room, but Spoiler's impromptu attack had thankfully spared him the effort. <br><br>One of the first things a potential circus acrobat learned, before even how to preform a balancing act, was how to fall. It seemed like such a simple skill, but it had saved his live so many times that Dick had stopped counting. And that was only the times he’d used it while at the circus; If he added in the times it had saved his life while he’d been wearing tights and fighting crimes, the number would be somewhere closer to ‘infinity’ times. So when he was unceremoniously thrown onto the ground, it was like second nature for Dick to tuck and roll as he hit the ground. Such a simple action, but it meant he only got a few bruises as he hit the ground instead of any broken bones and that he was able to spring up to his feet without even needing a second to catch his breath. <br><br>“Oh man, it looks like I’ll have to start taking this fight seriously” Dick said with a laugh as he noticed Kate grabbing the mystery device under the desk. Now that Batwoman had gotten a chance to disengage from the fight and get the device away from the thief, Dick could help play defense to keep him from catching up her. All they had to do was hold him off until the cops came, minutes at this point. Even he didn’t look stupid enough to try and go up against superheroes and cops at the same time.&nbsp; <br><br>Still, for that plan to work, they needed an actual plan. Everyone needed a position and a goal to focus on.&nbsp; <br><br>“Alright team, time for maneuver 5. Batwoman and Spoiler are the robin, Superboy and I are the cowl.”<br>It had been one of the first true team maneuvers Bruce and he had ever worked on together. It was incredibly simple, with one party acting as ‘the robin’ and running from the fight with something vital and the other party acting as ‘the cowl’ who would hold off any opponents until ‘the robin’ was able to get out of dodge. And while it was bare-bones simple, it had also proven incredibly useful over the years.<br><br>Here, Batwoman had the device and just had to get as far from the thief as she could. Spoiler was her backup, following Batwoman and helping out in any way she could. And if it turned out their solitary thief wasn’t so solitary, then at least it would be two people against the newcomer instead of just Batwoman. He and Conner on the other hand had to deal with the superpowered villain, keeping him busy long enough for Conner to regain his powers or for the cops to show up. <br><br>Of course, his plan hinged on a few very important assumptions on Dick’s end: First, that Steph and Conner both remembered what maneuver 5 was and what their positions entailed. While they were incredibly bright, and had been training for a while, neither had as much teamwork experience as Dick would have liked. Just a half second of hesitation that the commander could seize on, and it would have all be for nothing. Second, that the box the Commander had thrown under the desk had been the thief’s real target. It seemed an obvious conclusion, but Dick had seen stranger heists. And if he didn’t care about the box, then Dick had just sent off two people that could have helped take down the assailant. Third, that Dick was right in his assumption that the small object was a nullifier or inhibitor of some sort and that getting it away form Conner would return Superboy to his full power. If he was right, then The Commander would have to go up against a nearly full powered kryptonian and one of the few people who could have beaten Batman in a fight. But if Dick was wrong, then he’d just taken away the strength in numbers that had been keeping them alive so far. <br><br>“Let’s see how well your eyesight is SB” He called out to Conner an instant before throwing a smoke bomb at the mercenary’s feet. A tap at the side of his mask and suddenly Dick could see through the dense cloud as though it wasn’t even there. <br><br><em>‘Gotta love Wayne Tech’ </em>he mused before letting loose with a barrage of his own specialty shuriken. He’d helped design them to suit his fighting style, which meant they folded up smaller, deployed faster, and could be thrown at higher velocity than Bruce’s old batarang design. As soon as one had left his hand, a new one sprung out of the spring loaded portion of his wrist gauntlet and opened to its full size, ready to be hurled. Within a second, a dozen of the sharp wingdings were flying towards the hopefully still smoke blinded Commander. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>29-11-2015, 16:24:01</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/LTCmOhA.jpg?1)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Conner "Kon-El" Kent&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong> Superboy<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Entering the premises<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2024 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler, Patchy the Pirate(because he's got one eye and a thief)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong> Robin &amp; Cowl...been a while since Conner's heard that one<br><hr><hr><br>Shit! Somehow his blast hadn't had the full effect he wanted. Maybe it was whatever dampening field or whatever it was that was weakening his powers? Or maybe...maybe this guy was just that damn good. Conner honestly hated either of those being options, and he hated even more that those two seemed to be the <em>only</em> options available to them. He'd hit him though and blasted him away. And when he landed, the floor cracked from the impact. Since he was okay from that...yeah things didn't seem to be getting any easier for the intrepid young heroes. <br><br>The look he was given after the guy sort of shrugged off the impact...it was definitely a challenge. The Superboy stood a little taller after that; ready to go right back into the fight as long as he wasn't in the others way. While focusing on him, a flashbang grenade clacked out over the floor, thrown by Nightwing. Conner quickly closed his eyes and covered his ears, because with his senses that thing might have kept him out of the fight for a good long while. When he opened his eyes, Dick was attacking Patchy in full force, trying to take him off guard and take him down at the exact same time. <em>Good luck, Dick,</em> he thought as he raced through possibilities to help his friend end this fight.<br><br>&nbsp;But he quickly had to switch his focus when the thief got the upper hand and was about to slam Dick back down onto the floor. A hit like that might kill him at the worst, and put him out of commission at the best. He took a step, then stopped when Spoiler snuck up on the guy. Even with his powers weakened, he could still hear her, and see the small differences between her and the air around her. He had a rough lock on where she was when he heard her staff start powering up. She was about to attack, and him jumping in to stop her or help her would not only say he didn't have faith in her, but it might make things worse if all three of them were within arms reach of this guy at the same time.<br><br>&nbsp;After Spoiler's attack combo, he thought of ways he could get back in there that wouldn't put the others at risk. At this level, he was sure his TK was more brute force than finesse, so he couldn't attack him with another blast without possibly putting Dick in harms way. He wasn't even sure about his heat vision. Well he had one other option. A good ole fashioned slugfest. This guy could take a hit, but so could Conner, and in a war of attrition he was confident he could last. Maybe he was even getting used to his new limits? He'd never know if he didn't try. <br><br>Flexing his fingers, he took a few seconds to decide, then waited. Spoiler had done more than he'd expected, and with Nightwing working off of her efforts, they both managed to create the much needed distance that kept this guy from tossing them around like...well sort of like how Conner usually tossed people around. He'd divided his attention between Batwoman and the fight, so he knew she'd gotten something; probably whatever it was this guy had taken. Good. Even if they didn't know what it did, depriving him of it would be a win in his opinion. Then Dick called an audible on the play; Maneuver 5, also known as "Robin &amp; Cowl". He never got that name, unless it was simply Nightwing was Robin so he got away, and Batman was "The Cowl" so he stayed behind and kicked people into submission.<br><br>&nbsp;"Maneuver 5, got it!" He kept his eyes on the bad guy now, taking careful, measured steps while eyeing him and looking for any weakness or opening he could possibly find. He grinned at Nightwing and nodded when he posed a challenge. "It's better than yours, we know that much!," he joked seconds before the smoke enveloped that man's body and the area around him. He didn't need gadgetry, he just narrowed his eyes and peered through the smoke as well.<br><br>&nbsp;Dick attacked first, hurling several of his batarangs at the man. While they were in flight, Conner ran to another angle and slid on his knees, stopping and raising one to brace himself before focusing and sending a concentrated burst of heat and force from his eyes towards the villain's knees. It of course didn't pack it's usual punch, but even lower levels of heat vision could be highly dangerous. Hopefully if he got him thanks to the speed of the energy burst and the low visibility from the cloud, it'd burn through that armor, or melt it, or make it hot. <br><br>Something! And the extra force would hopefully at least flip him over and have him hit the floor hard. At this point though, he was happy with no dominating this guy. He just wanted to hold him back long enough for Kate and Spoiler to get some distance. Maybe if they took that thing he'd get his powers back! 
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>30-11-2015, 04:37:20</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:25 - 20:26<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Deathstroke ignores the impotent batarangs headed towards him, and focuses on his objective; retrieving that box. He uses his Super Hearing and Vision to navigate the smokescreen and take off towards Batwoman in an attempt to resecure The Package, sending a spray of bullets out in an attempt to at least slow down pursuit. He sprints across the room and launches himself in an aerial attack on Batwoman, hoping to catch her off guard and off balance...<br><hr><hr><br>Unfortunately, the throw to the ground hadn't gone quite the way that Deathstroke had hoped; it had only mildly inconvenienced the acrobatic Tightpants, who simply sprung back up to his feet as if nothing had ever happened...perhaps his previous estimated injury of a cracked rib was too hopeful, if he was that spry on his feet. Well...in any future clashes with Tightpants, he would have to make <em>absolutely</em> sure to break at least two of them; if you had a broken rib, there was no way that you were going to be doing any acrobatics of any kind. A broken rib would even give Deathstroke pause until his healing factor had dealt with it; it didn't matter how good you were, how skilled you were, how much training you had or just how well conditioned your body was...a cracked rib was a cracked rib, plain and simple, and any exertion that resulted in the movement of that area of the body would likely have you writhing in pain. The image of the Tight-Tighted Acrobat trying to do a somersault and ending up on the ground clutching his side amused him; it was impractical, risky, unnecessarily energy-intensive fighting style and that sort of thing just rubbed him up the wrong way. You use energy when you have to, and save it for emergencies. The more energy you waste on showboating the less you have to actually engage your opponent...and in the case of Tightpants, if he were going up against Deathstroke one on one and it became a battle of attrition...Deathstroke would win, pure and simple. Why? Because he had more stamina, and didn't waste energy on unnecessary movement. But, that wasn't the time to muse on such topics; he had a job to complete, and SuperMask and Tightpants were in his way.<br><br>Tightpants - in a surprisingly tactics-savvy move - deployed some kind of smoke bomb that enveloped the immediate area in a thick plume of smoke, thereby obstructing Deathstrokes vision past a few feet in front of him. His enhanced vision could still see clearly ahead of him for two or three feet and could still detect basic shapes - whilst a normal human would be almost blind in that cloud without the aid of specialist equipment, Deathstroke's vision was more than capable of penetrating at least to a passable degree; it couldn't make out fine details, but as long as his subject was within twenty feet of him, he could still make out their outline and shape...and that was enough to be getting on with for the time being; the sooner he got that thermal imaging sensor in his helmet, the better - but it was less acute vision than he would have liked. Thankfully, his vision wasn't the only aspect of his senses that were Enhanced; he concentrated for a moment, focusing as much of his hearing as he could, and eyed the pair of shapes. They paused for a moment...and sprung into action. Tightpants shape - he remembered their relative positions before the smoke went down and Tightpants was of a more lithe build than SuperMask - made a throwing motion and a split moment later, he could hear the whistling of something moving at high speeds towards him. He focused a bit more and - unable to detect any extra sounds that might have indicated an explosive (he'd been hit by an explosive arrow before, of all things; it hurt like a son of a bitch) - elected to ignore them. His armour wasn't entirely indestructible of course, but it was damn near it; he doubted that a set of fancy boomerangs or throwing stars would even scratch the chrome finish in any serious way, so there was no point spending unnecessary energy in avoiding them. Sure enough, the first one hit and glanced harmlessly off to the side, not even earning a flinch; there was no advantage in faking a flinch, after all, so why do it?<br><br>He did, of course, need to get moving; As soon as Tightpants shape threw the weapons, SuperMask's shape took off at a run, his own super hearing detecting the direction and speed of the footsteps even as the shape passed out of his sight. He heard the Mask skid to a halt, possibly preparing for an attack, but Deathstroke wasn't about to give him the chance; he had seen Fem-Bat headed towards the exit, and if she escaped with his prize, his job would get a lot harder...and not least of all because he would have to fight SuperMask at his full strength, and he doubted that he wanted to do <em>that</em> unprepared without doing the rest of his homework. In retrospect, he shouldn't have come in unprepared. He should have made certain that he was up to date with all of the heroes in town and had a way to neutralise them instead of just charging in and hoping to get lucky. It was the first time in a while that he had done little to no prep...and look what it was costing him. New rule: Never go in without contingency plans. He set off at a sudden, sharp sprint, kicking off of his dominant leg and gathering as much speed as he could as quickly as he could; he could go from 0-30mph in about three seconds - give or take half a second - and that's exactly what he did; he didn't have time to play with Tightpants and SuperMask any more...he needed to neutralise Fem-Bat and get his Target back. He angled himself towards the gap that SuperMask's movement had left, dashing towards the new opening...and not a moment too soon, it appeared; he felt a searing heat pass just behind his leg, apparently just missing its target...he glanced back in time to see a powerful red beam splitting through the fog before dying off. <em>Heat vision?!</em> Just who the hell was that Mask? He would have to seriously research him, and he would definitely not want to be around a full-powered version of him. Best to keep close to that device, in that case. <br><br>But he didn't have time to consider the implications of SuperMask's eerily familiar powerset; he had a Target to secure. He managed to run through the gap left by SuperMask, then angled around and pointed himself back towards the exit of the foyer, breaking out of the mass of smoke in a plume of fresh air, his vision clearing up in an instant. He grimaced; she was further away than he thought...he'd need to at least try to suppress Tightpants and SuperMask long enough to get a heads start. He was already up to speed and he <em>knew</em> that Tightpants couldn't match him in speed - whilst an experienced, world class sprinter might be able to, a gymnasts muscle structure was far, far different and trained different muscles in the body in different ways; a gymnast would never beat a dedicated sprinter in a race, full stop, unless they had super powers of their own - but better safe than sorry. Besides, at that point, he just wanted to cause Tightpants and SuperMask as much trouble as possible. Because of their distraction, he might just have lost his contract. He turned his body towards the plume of smoke - just about able to see Tightpants's silhouette in the smoke - and quick as a flash, pulled out the firearm at his waist. It was a custom built weapon able to fire high-calibre, high speed rounds of varying types - armour piercing, tracking, explosive, incendiary, shrapnel, etc etc - at the push of a button, able to fire in automatic, burst or single shot rhythms with an inbuilt silencer to boot. It was long, sleek and fairly minimalistic in a similar colour scheme to his own armour and with an extended magazine clipped to the front to give more ammunition to his attacks. It was a very nice piece of equipment, and one that he was very fond of...if not fond of <em>using.</em> It usually meant that he was attempting to kill somebody, and that always brought a whole boatload of problems with it. Still, he wasn't trying to kill Tightpants....just injure him seriously. He opened fire into the smoke cloud on automatic sending a full magazine of 40 bullets spraying into the smoke in little under a single second, before he reholstered his weapon. One of those bullets should have hit <em>something,</em> at the very least, especially since Tightpants was in the middle of his spray. <br><br>He turned his head, then, in time to see Fem-Bat almost reaching the exit of STAR Labs. She seemed momentarily confused by something, and he took his chance; he sprinted harder, tearing across the room towards her, shifting his staff from his left to his right hand, drawing it back and ready for a swing...she evidently avoided his first attempt to hit her, but his next attack wouldn't nearly be so wild. As he drew close, he launched himself into the air towards her, using his momentum to close the distance rapidly, twisting around in a corkscrew in midair to gain momentum. He swept around, bringing his staff down in a targeted arc right down on where she was standing....if she didn't move out of the way or block it, she would be in serious trouble. Hell, even if she blocked it, the energy pulse carried by the staff could very well have ended up knocking her off of her feet....especially with only one hand available to fight. If he could engage her properly before Tightpants and SuperMask arrived behind him, he might still have been able to get the Package and retreat...he just needed to be fast and efficient and stop playing around. Now? Now, it was serious. His contract was at stake, and he was not about to report a "Mission Failure" to his employer. Deathstroke didn't fail. It was as simple as that.
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				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>30-11-2015, 06:50:02</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b483/aliashappens/4495857-3660430-spoiler_zpszcif2ege.jpg)</div><hr><br><strong>Name:</strong> Stephanie Brown<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> The Spoiler<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:25<br><strong>Location:</strong> | STAR labs | <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Batwoman | Superboy | Nightwing | Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> The Spoiler suffers the wrath of Deathstroke's feared counter-attack. She retains a few injuries as she does her best to block and redirect his blows, failing. Spoiler racks up a couple bruised ribs, a minor concussion and a broken right arm. The pain is extraordinary. And she ends up on the ground beneath the villain. With the aid of Nightwing's smoke grenade, and the distractions from Superboy and Nightwing himself, she manages to crawl away from the fight and get back to her feet. Stephanie can hear the voice of Dick Grayson shouting orders. She doesn't know what manuever number five is, but she does know that she's supposed to be next to Batwoman. Favoring her arm, Spoiler approaches Batwoman, fighting back tears, trying to deal with the pain. Spoiler notices that Deathstroke is charging Batwoman. Spoiler doesn't know what to do. She's too injured to engage him again. She thinks of something at the last minute, just after he engages with Batwoman. Steph fires her grappling gun at Deathstrokes feet, hoping to tangle him up in the rope of her weapon. Steph immediately throws her grappling gun into the smoke, hoping that Superboy catches it. She leans against the wall, trying to stay awake.<br><hr><hr><br>She had been far enough away, she thought. She was in a defensive position, she thought. There was no way that he could get the drop on her now. Not like this. she was wrong in every case. Deathstroke spotted her, as she had planned on him doing. But his next motion was too fast for her to react to. He was too fast to be human. Stephanie would have had her mind racing full of logical reasons as to how Deathstroke was not capable of covering that distance in one leap, how he could manage such power from such a graceful maneuver. How had she found herself in this spot, being charged and viciously assaulted by a man that was easily nine times more competent than her in every way. But she didn't have time to think. She had only had enough time to get her ass whooped into five different kinds of cream pie.<br><br>Steph had tried to avoid everyone of his strikes, she had seen a few of them coming. And she had good reflexes, but she was outmatched. Deathstroke had launched a full on offensive. Stephanie couldn't block four of his moves, she couldn't block three, she couldn't evade even two or one. Every one of them snuck through. She was a punching bag, a standing puppet to be knocked around. He was perfect, she was putty. The first one to come through her defenses was a powerful flying right side kick. Stephanie had tried to spin away from him, but he had arrived too quickly for her to stop it.<br><br>The kick landed against her left breast, and it had hurt like hell on the surface level of her sensitive chest, and on a deep level, positive that he had forced her heart to skip a beat as he bruised her rib on impact. It was instant, the next strike, as it flew in. A left footed swinging back kick. She was turned to her side, and she hadn't even seen it coming. The kick landed on its mark, even though Deathstroke had intended to knock her away. He had actually made contact with the back of her head. And the bells started to ring right away. Steph's eyes rolled up into the back of her head. She tried to stumble forward, but her legs failed her.<br><br>She fell down to her knees just in time to take his third shot. The promethium staff that Deathstroke had picked up in a fraction of a second was whizzing through the air, and Steph's vision was too blurry to see it. Steph had had her hands up to her head, instinctively protecting her face from another shot. this swinging staff bounced off of her right arm, halfway between her wrist and her elbow.<strong> &gt;CuhrAAck&lt;</strong> She could hear her Ulna bone snap from the impact of the heavy staff. Stephanie screamed in pain as the bone broke into two completely different pieces. She was blinded with pain, that ringing sensation that filled her ears, the sound of a traumatized nervous system exploding. The fourth shot had snuck under her arms, each shot that Deathstroke gave her had brought her closer and closer to the ground.<br><br>It was a jab, and it hit her on her left side, right under her breasts, and just above her gut. She could feel another rib shift from the pressure, and she moaned. Her legs were giving away from the pain, and she was only standing on her knees. Steph sunk lower, sitting on her ankles, her legs splayed out to the sides underneath her. This villain that had managed to reduce Stephanie into a screaming mess of blonde hair and purple tights wasn't quite finished yet. She had sustained some injury, but she was still conscious, and that didn't settle right in the masked man's eye. As the staff came swinging around for a final blow, Stephanie moved her arms out of the way, not interested in breaking her upper limbs any further. The weapon was aimed for her body anway, and she would have welcome a cracked rib over two broken arms. The last shot made solid contact, and it didn't bounce this time. Deathstroke had decided to follow through. Stephanie was lifted off of the ground a few inches, and forced flat onto her back as two more of her ribs reacted painfully with the sensation of nearly cracking from the blow.<br><br>She had been unloaded on five times, and she was in a full heap on the floor with four bruised ribs, a shattered Ulna in her right forearm, and a mild concussion that was starting to make her feel woozy as she laid on the ground. Steph was in too much pain to put together a real thought. <em>'Oh god!'</em> Her mind was alert, like a fire alarm going off, or the sound of a warning siren, as if a bomb was about to drop. She was afraid for her life, unable to tell what was going on around her anymore, in the same room with a man that was obviously capable of anything. <em>'It hurts so bad. What did I do wrong? Oh god!' </em>Stephanie wanted to believe that she was ready. Every step in this super hero game just ended up being painful and embarrassing for her. Deathstroke had made her look silly, what was worse, both of her teachers had been there to watch her take the beat down. <em>'Don't cry for help. Help yourself! Get up!' </em>Stephanie was on the fullest of alerts that her battered system could handle, and her survival instincts were kicking in. She was clutching her staff with her good left hand, and she was slowly crawling away from the fight.<br><br>A smoke bomb had gone off, which gave her the illusion of being invisible again. She didn't bother to reach for her belt. It was designed to be turned on by her right hand, and her left hand was full with her weapon. She was more interested in getting away and getting a visual on Deathstroke again before she bothered to contort to reach for her belt, or try to control her right arm. Half of her arm felt like it was melting off, as the pain receptors in the area were erupting with signals and poorly crossed wires like mad. Steph groaned, and moaned as she crawled. She felt safer with every little inch that she could get. Her body writhed across the floor, she was whining as quietly as possible. Deathstroke had attempted to take her out of the fight. And he had succeeded in almost every way.<br><br>Luckily, Superboy and Nightwing had distracted the big bad for long enough. So, Steph had had the opportunity to find her way to the wall. It wasn't the safest place that she could be. But it was the closest thing that she was going to find at the moment. She had heard Nightwing yelling something about 'manuever number five.' Stephanie had heard him make the announcement. But she was too concussed, and confused to remember what that formation was. "Batwoman and Spoiler, you're the robin..." Stephanie held her head in her hand, trying to get it to stop buzzing. <em>'Come on Dick, I don't know what that means.' </em>Stephanie thought to herself. She felt like she needed to do more. This was bad, she couldn't be the one to just lay down and give up on the fight. It wasn't in her, and she wasn't going to let everyone of her friends and allies think that she had fast turned in a quitter.<em> 'I'm not a wannabe anymore. You've gotta kep fighting, Steph c'mon!.'</em><br><br>In a snap decision, she had made a move to get to her feet. Dizzy from the head injury, she opened her eyes as wide as they would go. The blurriness of the world was going away. She could see Batwoman, and Spoiler was stumbling in that direction. She could hear gunfire go off, and she covered her face instinctually, as if protecting herself with her arm would have done anything to keep a bullet or five from killing her. Luckily, she had not been standing where Deathstroke had aimed the gun. Steph tried to get her eyes on the enemy, and she heard him before she could see him. He came bursting out of the smoke cloud and he was in direct sprint for Kate. <em>'Come on Steph. Do something. Batarangs don't work against this guy, and you can't fight him hand to hand.'</em> Stephanie was still hobbling toward Kate with her right arm hanging off to her side. <em>'Come on! Think! And don't just take another picture of him!' </em><br><br>Stephanie could hardly move, and she was trying to think of a way to keep Deathstroke from hurting Kate the same way that he had hurt her. <em>'I've got it.' </em>Stephanie reached across her body and drew the grappling gun from her side, raising it to aim at Deathstroke. <em>'His feet. Get his feet Steph.'</em> The big bad was engaged with her mentor. But that didn't stop her from trying to help. It would have been better if she had thought of this a second or two earlier, she might have been able to shoot across the room to grip the wall, and trip him with the extended rope. However, Just as Deathstroke's feet hit the ground. Stephanie aimed with her non-dominant hand and fired, fairly accurately, at Deathstroke's feet, hoping to tangle him up in the rope. <br><br><strong>"Superboy. Here."</strong> It was painful to talk and even more painful to shout. Steph turned toward the smoke and hurled the gun-half of her grappling device toward the area that she was counting on Superboy to be standing in. If Deathstroke had been snared, like a steer getting roped by a cowboy. Then Superboy was going to be able to pull Deathstroke back, and away from Batwoman. It would have given Kate a chance to run. If Stephanie would have tried to pull him back, she would have done little more than get herself dragged right back into his crosshair, that was for sure. He was strong. She hoped that her last ditch effort was enough. She was, pretty much, all out of tricks after that. <br><br>Steph leaned back against the wall again, trying her best to keep her eyes open, and her mind awake. It felt like she could pass out at any moment. The pain was overwhelming, and the fog in her head was refusing to go away.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>01-12-2015, 18:07:22</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://www.hadenblackman.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/Batwoman-22.jpg)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Foyer Entrance<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2025 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Spoiler<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Nightwing, Superboy, Oracle, Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Witnessing Spoiler's state, Batwoman enters a state of tranquil fury and plots out every step of her reaction to Deathstroke's attack.&nbsp; She deposits the box to Spoiler under the rationale she's injured and capable of using one arm.&nbsp; If they are pursued (assuming Deathstroke can get past Connor and Nightwing after they leave), she'd need to fend Deathstroke off.&nbsp; A simple addendum to Maneuver Five.<br><hr><hr><br>&nbsp; <span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>J</strong></span>ust after trying to contact Oracle, Batwoman spectated something that held so many triggers and actions played in slow-motion that she didn't care if Oracle had responded or not.&nbsp; The words would have fallen on empty ears to a hardening resolve underneath the bat-fashioned cowl.&nbsp; Before, she thought Spoiler's scream was a simple reaction from getting struck during Deathstroke's retaliation.&nbsp; It wasn't anything she concerned herself with during her migration from the desk to the door.&nbsp; After all, Spoiler wanted to contend with the veterans and was going to learn things the hard way;&nbsp; that included getting her ass beat.&nbsp; Of course, Batwoman had not expected a broken and battered young blonde.&nbsp; That was <strong>not</strong> acceptable.&nbsp; As a result, Batwoman became eerily silent and motionless.&nbsp; <br><br>No one in this room would fully understand why Kate would've become enraged at such a sight but at least two had enough knowledge to hint or speculate.&nbsp; There was once a girl around Stephanie's age that was frequently seen fighting at Kate's side, adorned in a bird thematic uniform with a fiery-aesthetic cape.&nbsp; She went by the name of Hawkfire.&nbsp; To the city, she was Batwoman's sidekick but to those who knew the deeper truth, it was much more.&nbsp; Hawkfire was Bette Kane, Kate's cousin.&nbsp; Years ago, they had a fight.&nbsp; As a result, Bette lashed out on her own to spite Kate and ended up dead because of it.&nbsp; It was through sheer reluctance that she took Spoiler on as a protege and every moment of fear at the thought of losing her was prominent through all of it.&nbsp; Yet, she couldn't tell her to stop or give up the idea.&nbsp; She knew it would only result in Stephanie making the same mistake Bette did.<br><br>On the surface, Batwoman remained the same.&nbsp; What parts of her face one could see was sternly composed and the opaque, white lenses of the cowl stare lifelessly in Deathstroke's direction.&nbsp; Inside, a volatile eruption had emerged.&nbsp; This man, whom played her like a fool earlier and has proven to be a noteworthy threat, had now angered her.&nbsp; It wasn't ever difficult to get Kate frustrated but it was difficult to get her mad.&nbsp; There was years or the harshest military training and discipline behind her.&nbsp; She's seen the most horrid practices humanity has to offer and faced down threats that would bring anyone's sanity into question.&nbsp; Few things could actually get under her skin as Batwoman.&nbsp; Yet, Deathstroke did simply by hurting Spoiler.&nbsp; Fear for the girl's future - the girl's life - needed it's outlet.&nbsp; For now, things had become quintessentially different and she was going to make this man regret coming to her city.&nbsp; Ignore the theft.&nbsp; Ignore the pain.&nbsp; Ignore all else but the two actions of hurting Stephanie and coming to her city.&nbsp; She was pissed.<br><br>Nightwing called for Maneuver Five and before any protest could be heard, smoke began to cloud the room.&nbsp; Still unmoving, Batwoman had no means to protest either way.&nbsp; Everything happened with a meticulous, hardened gaze before her.&nbsp; Deathstroke caught on to what she had, immediately making a path towards her which only confirmed her suspicions.&nbsp; What she had in hand <em>was</em> something he needed and the innate exploits that came with a confirmation were quickly realized.&nbsp; She knew Deathstroke was going to be no fool but now he had to favor ascertaining the object above all else while defending from her and the team.&nbsp; In honesty, she could care less at this point.&nbsp; Her priority shifted to getting Spoiler <strong>out</strong> or harm's way and making sure this bastard would think twice next time.<br><br>If she was going to serve as the Robin of Maneuver Five, she needed both hands free in worst case scenario.&nbsp; Stephanie was the one injured and had at least one free hand but getting to the girl came first.&nbsp; She wasn't sure if Stephanie knew what Maneuver Five was, but she also rationalized it's most likely not going to be well received innately.&nbsp; The girl took a blow to the head, thus reciprocation of senses were stunted and unfavorable.&nbsp; Kate could turn and run with the device but she was not going to leave Stephanie alone.&nbsp; She'd rather die.&nbsp; With all of this in mind, Kate dropped the black, nondescript cube next to her feet as Deathstroke was focusing his attention on Nightwing.&nbsp; The use of a gun with questionable visual quality through a smokescreen it seemed.&nbsp; Of course, general location and common sense could bypass things so it wasn't a wasted effort but it cost him a considerable focus on her and she still had distance between them.<br><br>He sprinted harder.&nbsp; There was duress presented through that and a greater disadvantage he gave himself.&nbsp; Sure enough, the force of a blow would be considerably more effective but it came with the cost of maneuverability.&nbsp; An object in motion stays in motion, unable to stop until the velocity and energy of said motion stops.&nbsp; She was standing still, watching and preparing for the inevitable leap or strike.&nbsp; It was the mirror opposite of her prior engagement before.&nbsp; He took to the air, eliminating every opportunity to shift his direction as a result.&nbsp; That fact was considerably reinforced with his corkscrew twisting and his attack was broadcasted as blatantly as possible.&nbsp; Every action has an equal and opposite reaction.<br><br>She already knew he was coming.&nbsp; That was evident prior to the leap when he burst from the collecting screen of smoke towards her and the exit.&nbsp; Her foot positioned exactly where it needed to against the cube during all of this and when he committed to that leap?&nbsp; When he sacrificed all chance to react other than his attack, she kicked the cube towards Spoiler and shifted her weight so she'd crouch down into a defensive and readied position.&nbsp; As she crouched, she brought up her staff to meet his, fully knowing the strength of impact and that's exactly why she was going to redirect instead of oppose.&nbsp; It was a principle of Aikido, emphasizing the philosophy of aiki.&nbsp; One doesn't meet force.&nbsp; One simply blends with it.&nbsp; Thus, she leaned back and ensured her staff met his in the opportune position to avoid harm while carrying the momentum past her.&nbsp; This left her on her back but already in motion to roll in reverse, still following his energy and momentum.<br><br>Both of her feet shot up, aiming for his open flanks.&nbsp; He had his armor, yes, but even the best armor could not compensate for trauma reduction.&nbsp; His undoubtedly had a significant margin of that benefit but she had seen him take a punch from Connor that sent him flying.&nbsp; Despite not knowing that Connor was weakened, the way she reacted to his attack as nothing but short of exploitative use of his own motions.&nbsp; Unless Deathstroke had some magical means of negative every law of physics, this was foolproof.&nbsp; He would be kicked up and over her and she'd be on her feet by the time he was able to get to his.&nbsp; Sure, he could tumble and recover from the roll in a way similar to Nightwing but he'd have the pressure in his respiratory system still in shock from the impact to his torso and the distance needed to stop his momentum.&nbsp; She'd have ample opportunity to get into a defensive system after it was all said and done.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Spoiler, get the box and head for the exit.&nbsp; I'll be right behind you."</em>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>02-12-2015, 01:05:45</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:25 - 20:26<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Deathstroke manages to handspring back to a vertical base and advances carefully on Batwoman. He unleashes two attacks designed to both probe her defences and - if he's lucky - knock her aside so he can pursue The Cube. <br><hr><hr><br>Alas, his attack didn't have quite the effect he was hoping; whilst springing into the air certainly gave him more momentum, the split in his focus and the lack of manoeuvrability it inevitably burdened him with ended up being a rather large problem. He hadn't engaged Fem-Bat very much over the course of the melee, so he wasn't exactly clued up in just what she was capable of...though evidently a "Normal" human, she was obviously well trained if the criminals of Gotham were so worried about her, not to mention the fact that she willingly wore that cowl and managed to survive the attention it inevitably would have brought down on her head. With that in mind, perhaps he shouldn't have underestimated her reactions, or her skills...but, in his defence, he had seen many an experienced fighter attempt to halt his advance head-on, confident that they could absorb the shock of impact only to be given a nasty surprise by both his strength and the nature of his Promethium staff; even without his immense strength, a staff made of Promethium increased the energy it was being swung with by factors of tens whenever it struck. If Deathstroke swung it? It was enough to send most grown men flying in a similar way as SuperMasks TK punch did to him earlier on in the fight. Of course, that only happened if you outright blocked it; it appeared that FemBat was at least more intelligent than that, opting to move with his strike rather than against it, utilising one of the most basic concepts of fighting somebody who was superior in both weight, strength and speed...use their momentum and their strength against them. In a straight up duel, Deathstroke should definitely have the advantage; no matter how highly trained she was, he could almost guarantee that he had been fighting for longer, so he had the experience edge. He was obviously faster than her, so he had the speed edge. He was obviously stronger, so he had the strength edge as well. So...her only real chance was to attempt to use his momentum and his strength against him in a way that gave her the advantage...which is exactly what she did. Deathstroke might even have been impressed, if he had had the time to spare in the split seconds that he had to react to those newest turns of events.<br><br>Even as he arced through the air, he could see that he wasn't going to connect; she started bending at precisely the right time, using her own staff to tip his weapon forwards, her feet connecting solidly with his flanks as she sent him past her easily. She wisely didn't try to meet or stop his advance, instead simply encouraging it to continue unabated...a tactic which left him at a decent disadvantage. At least, it would have if he weren't Deathstroke. Oh, he was still on the back foot, but he wagered that she didn't count on just quickly he could turn it around. He'd been fighting for 64 years at that point, give or take a few, and it wasn't the first time an attack had backfired or gone differently to the way he planned it. It certainly wasn't the first time his opening attack had been countered, either; he had intended to land directly on the spot that she was occupying, but thanks to her hefty boot, he found himself with some extra momentum even before he landed...and instead of making the mistake that many rookies would have made - that was, flailing in an attempt to slow down and stick to the original plan - his course of action was more fluid than that. No plan survived first contact, and anybody who didn't adjust their fighting strategy on the fly was a fool and destined to lose. Instead of attempting to straighten up, as soon as he felt her feet on his flanks he threw his body forwards and down, curling himself even as he twisted to meet the ground. Had it been most other people, they would have faceplanted rather spectacularly, but he was <em>Deathstroke.</em> Agility, speed, reflexes and thinking time far faster than even a peak human specimen, and a 99.99% perfect sense of timing. He hit the floor, but not chest first; his hands and arms connected with the floor, his fingers spreading out to catch his weight - thankfully, his hardened body and healing factor would negate any damage such a sharp impact would have on his hands and wrists - as the rest of his body arced on forwards with the extra momentum gained from Fembats counter. <br><br>He launched off the ground at the perfect angle, using the momentum more than his own upper body strength to handspring onwards, corkscrewing in the air to come to a bent-leg, wide-based defensive stance facing FemBat and the rest of her little gang. Yes, he said earlier that acrobatics were rarely necessary and that there were easier and better ways of doing things. The difference between what he just did and Tightpants tactics? His handspring was the easiest and fastest way to reduce his momentum, converting it into upwards <em>and</em> forward momentum, thereby reducing the distance travelled and therefore his travel time. Tightpants used his acrobatics when a different, more grounded attack likely would have been more effective. At least, Deathstroke thought so. If they ever fought one on one, they would find out who was right and who was unconscious. Regardless, he tightened his grip on his staff - which he had managed to retain throughout the manoeuvre - as he moved it forwards into the basic defensive stance for a staff; two handed grip, wide based stance, one end pointed to the floor and one pointed behind him. He could shift position easily from this stance, and for a skilled combatant, it was a well-tested, versatile starting position. He kept an eye on the combatants he could see - The Kid, from where he was standing, looked to be relatively out of the fight, leaning against a wall and nursing her arm, even as the box that Fembat had had previously went skittering towards her; he almost felt bad for her...but then he remembered how she managed to sneak up on him, and his sympathy shrank a little. Sneak up on a professional, and you had better be certain that you could match the inevitable counter attack - and the only other exit in sight. He was in front of the main exit...the only other way they could go was through the delivery bay. He could handle that when they tried to escape that way; Right at that moment, he had to focus on the enemy in front of him. Namely, FemBat. Instead of the inane banter that Tightpants insisted on utilising, Fembat was quiet. Silent, in fact. Was she always this terse? Well. Evidently, taunting wouldn't work, so there was no sense in engaging in it, and obviously quick, hasty attacks weren't going to work, so...a standoff, then. He took a slow step forwards, closing the gap a little, his eye tracking her every movement in slow motion. His protective lens clicked down, just in case of another flashbang...she was evidently skilled, so he couldn't afford to be blinded for even a moment. He closed the distance a little more, carefully. He didn't get where he was through rushing in...though he had to make an attack soon, lest Tightpants and SuperMask join the fray. Well...he had the reach advantage, so he decided to use it. <br><br>Shifting positions ever so slightly, he pulled the staff back upwards, switching the direction of his top hands grip - as if to prepare for a wide-arced sweep - before, as quickly as he could, suddenly dipping his staffs top end down and thrusting out towards the center of her body mass as quickly as he could, utilising as much of his lightning speed and crushing strength as he could. If he could maybe shatter a rib, she'd be open to follow up attacks and then she'd be down for the count; it didn't matter how much training you had, a cracked rib was a cracked rib. Even as he finished the jab, he pulled the staff back towards his hands, switched the direction of his grip even as it travelled back towards him and <em>then</em> swung in an arc, his body twisting in order to give it as much speed as possible, his back leg stepping forwards to become his front leg, the end whistling towards Fembats side...he doubted that she'd be able to dodge that swing so easily. Block it? Given her skill level, probably. But if she did...she'd have to bear the full force of his strength amplified by the staffs own Kinetic multiplier. With any luck, it would send her flying out of the way so he could run down The Kid and take back his prize. That was his main objective, now; escape with his target. "Winning" the fight didn't matter; if he successfully retreated with his prize, that would be the real victory. Even if he lost and still managed to escape with the Cube, it would be a victory since his objectives going in would have been met. So...secure the box and retreat. And step one? Get FemBat out of the way as quickly as possible. Even if he only knocked her over...it would be enough to get a head start large enough to escape. If nothing else, he had to subdue or neutralise Fembat before Tightpants and SuperMask joined the fray. He could take them all on at once with the right positioning - you used different tactics when fighting groups, after all - but he would really rather not have to. He had a job to do, and that came before his own pride. He just wished that he'd remembered that before he started the fight, is all.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>JamesSureWould</strong> on <strong>02-12-2015, 21:00:34</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn.movieweb.com/img.news/NE2szDLyUIEU69_1_1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> Richard ‘Dick’ Grayson<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Nightwing<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family<br><strong>Time:</strong> October 17, 2015; 2026 hours | Saturday<br><strong>Location:</strong> STAR Labs | East Gotham<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Oracle, Superboy, Batwoman, Spoiler, Deathstroke.<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Nightwing manages to grapple up and avoid the swarm of bullets. He surveys the scene, notices that Steph is in bad shape and that Batwoman is pissed because of this. He throws down a smoke bomb and jumps behind Deathstroke, delivering an electrified sleeper hold. Then he called for Superboy to finish the job, prepared to jump away from Deathstroke at the last possible second.<br><hr><hr><br>Nightwing was an oddity among the Bat family. Kate used a strong disciplined style that was just a few degrees removed from how Bruce had fought. Jason channeled his rage into fighting and made his opponent fear him, just like their father had. Steph was learning, but she seemed to take advantage of the shadow like the mentor she’d never met. Dick though, he was a performer first and foremost. He bantered, he showed off, and he did things that most of the others would shake their heads at. <br><br>But something that had surprised countless villains, and more than a few heroes, was that Dick used it all as an act to hide a capable tactical and analytical fighter. His banter knocked foes off their defenses, made them make small mistakes, sometimes even making them slip up and reveal something about themselves. His extravagant motions forced opponents, most of them used to traditional fights, to defends against moves they likely hadn’t seen before. And his seemingly over reliance on jumps, flips, and verticality was used as an advantage against villains who just weren’t used to fighting someone when attacked from above or below them. <br><br>Batman might have used the shadows to his advantage, but Nightwing used the spotlight. <br><br>That wasn’t to say that Batman had taught him anything; One of the key skills father had passed to son was how to analyze everything an opponent did and how to use the advantages against them. With the knowledge that he was going to have to fight smart to defeat the opponent who was stronger and faster than he was, Dick started to run through all the important things he’d noticed about the thief. <br><br>Bantering didn’t seem to do anything but piss of the guy. Which meant most would stop doing it, but Dick knew that someone pissed off would be more likely to make one small slip up that one of them could exploit. Smoke bombs seemed to be a minor inconvenience thank to his superior senses. But it still did inconvenience him. His body armor meant that most normal batarangs were ineffective at best. And, most importantly to Nightwing, he didn’t look up often. With all of that information, a plan started to form in his mind.<br><br>Dick had already started to angle his Grappling hook towards the one of the hanging lights of the room when he saw the gun being raised. By the time the bullets had been fired and were speeding towards him, Dick was a few feet above the ground and they whizzed by harmlessly inches below his feet. <br><br>He grabbed onto the support wire of the light fixture for a second, using the brief moment of peace to survey the battle. Batwoman was pissed, and Spoiler was dealing with what looked like broken bones and a concussion. He saw the plan falling apart in a flash, but knew enough about the team to understand that the day hadn’t been lost yet. Spoiler had tossed her grappling gun to Conner, clearly she had a plan of her there, and if it was the same one he’d been forming, it was a good one. So long as they finished up here soon, within the next twenty minutes, he could get Spoiler back to the medbay in the Cave. She might be out of commision for a few days, but she’d be fine. And Batwoman angry was one of the most terrifying sights Dick had ever seen. They could still handle this, he was sure of it. If they could play keep away with his cube, all the better. But all they really had to do was keep him occupied until the police showed up. Conner had called the police ten minutes before. Given typical GCPD response time, and the fact that Poison Ivy had been attacking a bank when he’d placed the call, that meant they had another five minutes before the police would get there. <br><br>Though, why go through all that when he saw a chance to end the fighting right then and there?<br><br>With a three different plans, and contingencies for each of the plans, Dick jumped down into the fray, dropping a smoke bomb before he landed gracefully behind Deathstroke. <br><br>“Ah, that’s no fun to leave in the middle of our fight Cyclops. We weren’t done playing yet” He said with a teasing tone as he wrapped his arm around Deathstroke’s neck and put the villain into a hold for the third time. This time though, Dick’s effects would be more… shocking.<br><br>Built into each of Dick’s gauntlets were tasers capable of emitting tens of thousands of volts of electricity. And with one gauntlet pressed against Deathstroke's neck, and the other against his back, Dick was confident that it would hurt the superhuman thief. When he’d first made his Nightwing suit, Dick had made sure it was insulated just in case of something like this. But most villains weren’t so thoughtful. And who should they be; the heroes who used electricity was a remarkably short list, mostly composed of him and Black Lightning.<br><br>“Superboy! Now!” Nightwing shouted out, ready to release the mercenary and get out of dodge the instant he saw Conner’s form get close enough, hoping that the electricity would stun him long enough for Superboy to end the fight. <br><br>Atleast, that's how plan number one went. It all hinged on if he managed to get a hold on Deathstroke, and if his electricity managed to give the mercenary the smallest pause. At that point, it wouldn't have surprised Dick if it was suddenly revealed that the thief was actually he lovechild of Bruce and Jesus. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Juggtacular</strong> on <strong>08-12-2015, 17:30:18</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/LTCmOhA.jpg?1)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Conner "Kon-El" Kent&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<br><strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong> Superboy<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; The <del>New</del> Bat Family<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs; Entering the premises<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2024 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman, Nightwing, Spoiler, Patchy the Pirate(because he's got one eye and a thief)<br><hr><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong> Robin &amp; Cowl...been a while since Conner's heard that one<br><hr><hr><br>Somehow his vision blast missed. By some impossible feat, the guy had dodged it. Again, he was further aggravated fighting an enemy who had abilities beyond what he could comprehend at the moment while dealing with his own depowerment that somehow ignored the other guy. It wasn't just an uphill battle right now. It was uphill, through snow and rain, both ways in an earthquake. This guy was taking everything they threw at him and inoring it like they weren't worth his time. To be honest it was pissing Conner all the hell off and at the moment he wanted nothing more than to punch this guys head through a wall.<br><br>&nbsp;Especially since it looked like he was tough enough to handle a good thrashing. He watched the masked man pull a gun and aim at Dick. But the ex-boy wonder was a marvel of human capability and he'd seen him dodge bullets before. This time though he took the simple route and simply grappled out of the way before the bullets could hit him. <em>'Good job, Nightwing!'</em> Of course Dick couldn't hear him as Conner's own telepathy was nowhere near as good as Megan's, but he'd tell him later. Plus if he'd gotten shot, it might have signed masked man's death warrant, so it was a good thing for him Dick had dodged those bullets, or Conner might have just melted him with his eyes. <br><br>No matter how good this guy was though, he was at the disadvantage because not only did he have one eye, he was up against 4 opponents with a slowly dispersing smokescreen lingering around. Nobody could fully keep up with numbers like that with the obvious handicap unless they had powers beyond what he assumed this guy came to the table with. And <em>that</em> was why he'd missed Spoiler's last hurrah, her final act of defiance against this guy before wisely getting herself the hell outta dodge. Her grapple was now wrapped around his legs, and maybe because he was focused on the others, or that thick armor of his, but he hadn't noticed yet.<br><br>&nbsp;The fact was though that Conner now had a leg up on this bastard so to speak. While Kate fought him, Conner edged closer. While Dick surprised him, Conner edged closer, waiting for the perfect opportunity. And after Dick's smokescreen followed by that taser discharge, he had it. Nightwing told him it was time, and Conner just hoped the electricity would lock his muscles for long enough for Dick to back off. "Get clear!" Gripping the grapple firmly, he yanked as hard as he could, causing the chord to go taut, and then he pulled again, trying to sling him into the air by his leg and back away from Kate and Spoiler who needed to get out of here with that cube.<br><br>&nbsp;Even weakened, he had more than enough strength to yank a normal sized person through the air like a ragdoll. He hoped it worked, whether it did or not though, Conner had decided he wouldn't take chances and poured on the pressure. A heat vision blast followed by a TK burst. Take no chances.<br><br>&nbsp;It was pretty hard to dodge invisible kinetic energy that was wider than your body; <em>especially</em> when you were focusing on neon beams of heat and force. Deathstroke had underestimated all of them. And even with his powers dampened, it just meant Superboy was on a level playing field. And he was still just as brilliant as ever, so his tactical thinking wasn't impaired at all. He wondered how this guy liked having to fighting someone his equal in almost every way...save experience. Because while he couldn't guess his age, this guy sure didn't fight like a rookie.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Vergil Tanner</strong> on <strong>08-12-2015, 18:18:28</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr><strong>Name:</strong> ? ? ?<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Highest Bidder.<br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:26<br><strong>Location:</strong> S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br><strong>Theme Music:</strong> The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> After recovering from the teams counterattack, Deathstroke decides that attempting to retrieve the cube from the united team is a lost cause and opts instead to withdraw; he has a plan for how to complete his contract, but it doesn't include staying to fight. There is no shame in withdrawing when you're out of options, and Deathstroke decides not to let his overconfidence outweigh his pragmatism and tactical acumen. The Cube is, for the moment, lost...so there is no longer any reason to stay. <br><hr><hr><br>Unfortunately for Deathstroke, Captain Tightpants proved to be just a bit too fast for him to react to quickly enough to outright counter the attack; between FemBat's assault and his split attention, even <em>his</em> enhanced brain couldn't keep up with everything. As Tightpants dropped from the ceiling behind him, Deathstroke began to turn - had he begun just a second sooner, he might even have caught Tightpants as he fell, but alas, his senses were a little occupied with keeping an eye on FemBat, SuperMask <em>and</em> The Cube - but ended up starting just a fraction of a second too late. He felt Tightpants's grapple close around his shoulders for a second time - at least this time, he decided to keep his feet on the ground; he'd learned <em>something</em> from his previous falls, at the very least - but something about that time was...more different than just that. As soon as Tightpants's arms closed around his throat, Deathstroke momentarily felt a sudden spasm go through his body at the contact, as if somebody had plugged him directly into a wall socket and turned on the juice. His muscles tightened slightly against his will, and his head was sent spinning for a moment at the shock of the sensation. He had to blink several times to clear his vision; it was unmistakably electricity that had passed through him - and was still passing through him, though at a reduced voltage than the initial contact - so apparently, Tightpants had added a few extra tricks to his repertoire since he had fought him over a decade ago...as well he should have; any fighting style that remained static for over a decade was bound to be outdated when it fought somebody more "modern" and innovative, and it showed a lack of improvement. Deathstroke would have been impressed, if he weren't so irritated. Still...his armour had a protective mesh underneath it, so the contact wasn't directly to his skin, and he wasn't an ordinary human; he could withstand voltages far in excess of that which would incapacitate a human...despite his moment of weakness, he was soon back in control enough to force his muscles to move against the will of the electricity. First step? Get that charged grip away from his throat. Also, consider insulation of some kind for a future upgrade to his suit.<br><br>With some effort, he reached up to Tightpants's arms and gripped the wrists in his heavy gloves, slowly beginning to pry them away from his suit. He glanced forwards briefly - SuperMask seemed to be up to something, from the way he was angling his body, so it would be an idea for 'Stroke to hurry up - and, with an almighty heave, managed to clamp down on Tightpants's wrists <em>hard,</em> not caring whether he broke them or not, and ripped his grip away from his neck. The debilitating voltage stopped instantly, and Deathstroke growled slightly under his breath...that was the last time that Tightpants would be jumping on his back. He shifted his body, using Tightpants's arms as a lever...and then swung his leg backwards, bending at the knee, directly between Tightpants legs. It flicked upwards, but Deathstroke didn't wait to see if it hit. Turning and releasing Tightpants's arms, he pulled his right arm back, ready for a solid punch...and then his leg was pulled from under him by some force, and he was sent tumbling to the ground as he was dragged backwards. Turning and looking down at his leg, even as he was pulled along, he spotted it; a cable, connected to some kind of hook that he hadn't realised was around his leg before - that was the drawback with heavy armour; you miss light taps on it if you aren't paying attention - that led off into the smoke towards the silhouette of SuperMask. He growled again in frustration and, in one quick motion, reached back with his right hand and swept his sword out of its scabbard, bringing it in an arc straight through the cable, severing it neatly. He tumbled to a stop and sprung to his feet, using the last of the momentum to push himself into a half-spring, half-roll, facing the shape of SuperMask through the smoke. He took a step towards him...then abruptly darted to the side as he saw a deep red glow streaking towards his side through the smoke. A normal human wouldn't have been able to dodge it, but thanks to Deathstrokes superior reflexes, it sailed harmlessly past his left arm, only just scratching the edge of the armour. <br><br>Alas, he didn't see the next blow coming; a force, similar to the invisible punch that had sent him spinning earlier in the fight, drove into his front and sent him sailing into the air, backwards and back over the group he'd just been pulled past by the grappling hook...that ability in particular was getting frustrating to deal with. How could you counter something you couldn't see coming? That would require some research on how to mitigate, he reckoned. He knew that Promethium absorbed kinetic energy, so perhaps a higher concentration in the plates of his armour would negate the push? Something to look into before he ran into this SuperMask again, definitely...and at that point, it was a certainty that he was going to see them again. They did, after all, have his target. He flipped over himself again and twisted, landing neatly and elegantly in front of the group, between them and the main exit. He straightened slowly, regarding them critically...he had injured one of them, true, but the other three seemed to be extremely competent fighters, and experienced when it came to working in a team. He could take any one of them down on his own, given information on their capabilities - Tightpants and FemBat he knew he could outmatch one on one, so the only real wild card was SuperMask in that regard - but working as a well-gelled team? No. No, he had wasted too much time and his element of surprise, and they would undoubtedly close ranks around the injured carrier of his target. There was little chance of him getting past them to her, especially if they worked as well as a team as it seemed they did. And the longer the fight went on, the better idea they got of his capabilities and equipment. The prudent thing to do would be to withdraw, do his homework and plan out a counter attack properly, with the right equipment and the right intel. He had their broadcast frequency - his hacking device would have automatically jammed and logged it - so perhaps he could do something with that? Either way, his heist had been a failure and there was no chance of recovering it now. Thus...withdraw and regroup. There was no shame in retreat, when faced with a hopeless situation. Retreat was not fleeing; retreat was simply pulling back to a more favourable location in order to marshal resources and attempt to regain the initiative.<br><br>Fishing into his pouch, he selected his most powerful flashbang - one that was theorised to be able to stun even Superman for several moments - and hurled three of them, one after another, ahead of him. He turned just as they went off and dashed out the door and into the street beyond. He had an escape route planned out; as soon as he hit the street, he disappeared down into the lead-lined sewer pipes beneath Gotham, and was gone. By the time the heroes had regained their bearings, there would be no sign of him whatsoever.<br>He had gotten overconfident and outstayed his element of surprise with poor intel and only the most basic of combat equipment...next time, he wouldn't make that mistake. He needed that Cube...and he had already begun to formulate a plan to get it.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Alias</strong> on <strong>12-12-2015, 05:06:09</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://i1288.photobucket.com/albums/b483/aliashappens/4495857-3660430-spoiler_zpszcif2ege.jpg)</div><hr><br><strong>Name:</strong> Stephanie Brown<br><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong> The Spoiler<br><strong>Affiliation:</strong> The Bat family&nbsp; <br><strong>Time:</strong> Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:26<br><strong>Location:</strong> | STAR labs | <br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Batwoman | Superboy | Nightwing | Deathstroke<br><hr><hr><strong>Summary:</strong> Steph puts her staff away, struggling. Steph falls to her knees and recovers the box that Deathstroke had come for. She stands up, urgently, but slowly. Steph decides to go for the loading docks, avoiding the fight by the exit door at all costs. She goes into the smoke, and is able to use her broken arm in order to go invisible again. Steph finds the door that she had entered through. She runs as hard as she can to get away. Steph loses track of the way out, and goes the wrong way out. She slows to a walk when she realizes no one is directly behind her. The stress on her body causes her to fall over. She lets the box go to the ground for a moment, barely able to keep it from tumbling, and crashing down loudly. Steph opens her comm and tells her team what she's doing. She can't admit failure. Steph stands up again, and tries to silently find the way out. She takes off her hood, her mask and her cloaking device in search of relief from the pain and confusion.<br><hr><hr><br><em>'Stay awake.'</em> Stephanie was half way to panic town on the panic highway. Her energies were slipping away, and her focus had not really improved. Her eyes had closed to help her focus, and she was slipping. She could have seen the world with the blur in her vision almost completely faded, as clearly as the smoke allowed anyway. However, there was a growing fog in her thoughts, and she could hardly pay attention to the things happening around her. Steph's eyes shot open and she put her left hand up to her head. Her staff was still in that hand as the other arm dangled at her side. The chains in-between the sections of the staff jingled. Squeezing her forehead, she did her best to clear the cobwebs quickly. Nothing seemed to help.<em> 'You have to stay awake. Concussed badly. Stay awake.'</em> <br><br>She needed to start acting, she had yet to make an economic movement since she had nearly been knocked out cold and beaten down. <em>'I have to get my staff put away,'</em> but she had never once done it with her left hand before. Steph grabbed the far end of the Staff and twirled it around her twice, the box that Kate had kicked was already coming her way. Steph was practiced enough to compress her weapon with her left arm, but she didn't know if she was capable of it in her condition. The muscles it required to move at all were pulling on her bruised ribs. She grimaced. the weapon clambered as the chains rubbed together in full rotation. On the third circle around, the end of the last section struck the ground, just as she had practiced, pulling the weapon backwards and into her hand was the hard part. She managed to get it to compress, properly, but the <strong>&gt;claa-a-ppk&lt;</strong> had changed, one of her fingers had ended up in-between two sections. The pain was loud, but she couldn't hear it over the rest of her screaming nervous system. She could tell that she had bruised the bones in her finger, but they would be fine in a day or two. <br><br>She reached behind her back as the cube came to a stop a few feet away from where she was standing. She hadn't really seen it coming. Steph holstered the weapon on the small of her back, but not with ease. It took about four seconds, she had a sloppy left hand when it came to things like this. Batwoman was shouting simple instructions at her. As she spotted the box, Stephanie remembered what maneuver number five was. <em>'Oh yeah! This must be why we're running that move. This is what he came for.' </em> It was the first time she had seen this box, no one had pointed to it, and the fight had already started when she entered. As the action filled the room with high speed combat, she hadn't thought about the original conclusions that her team had drawn. Deathstroke had come to steal something, and now they were running The Robin and The Cowl to get the object away from him. <br><br>Stephanie took confident, if not exhausted steps toward the box and landed on her knees in order to retrieve it. Bending over didn't feel like a good idea at the time. An urgency was threatening in her actions, but she was sluggish over all due to the head injury. She might have passed out just due to gravity and the motion of her blood. <em>'If Kate and I are the robin. That means... We're getting out. My bike. Can I run?' </em> She wasn't about to trust her battered body right now, but she needed to test her resolve. She didn't even think about the fact that she wouldn't be able to ride her motorcycle. <em>'I need to go.'</em> Being the Robin meant she had to get the hell out. <em>'And stay the hell away from that fight.' </em>Steph knew that she would be useless in a battle right now, and she was petrified to be near that monster with one exposed eye again.<br><br>Steph needed to move fast. As far as she could tell, Dick and Conner had completely vanished, but she could hear the struggle. She could tell there was a fight.<em> 'Is Kate still behind me.' </em>She thought, but she didn't think to look. <em>'The loading bay.</em> Steph got to her feet as quickly as possible. She had one arm full with the cube, so she couldn't use her hands to get up. She turned away from her enemy and her allies, put one foot in front of the other and went into the smoke as fast as she could. <em>'If Kate's not behind me, I'm a sitting duck alone.'</em> Steph still didn't stop to look behind her shoulder.<em>'I wish I could go invisible ... wait ... maybe I can.'</em> She could make no real attempt to miss Nightwing, or Superboy. She knew that they had been in the smoke, at one time. Steph couldn't see more than a few inches in front of her face. She had to depend on her spatial awareness to avoid the walls, and she had to rely on luck to avoid the two men on her side. <em>'Gotta try to reach...'</em><br><br>She decided to test her right hand as she made her way through the smoke. Steph's radial bone was still intact, so she had control of her arm better than she thought she did. The fractured ulna was displaced though, there was damage to the ligaments, tendons, and nerves in her arm. She had no control over her ring and her pinky finger. But, she could flex her thumb. Everything that she tried hurt, even the thumb and especially the wrist.<em> 'You got this,'</em> she thought as she brought her arm to her waist. With muscle memory, she located the pressure pad on her invisibility belt, and she held it down for a few seconds. When she let go, she had gone invisible amidst the smoke. <br><br>She couldn't hold her hand out to feel her way around, so she lowered her left shoulder and pushed toward the door that she had come in through. <br><br>She could practically feel Deathstroke's hand on her back. It felt like he was closing in on her even though her allies were doing a great job keeping him busy. She didn't bother looking back, she didn't bother trying to help in any capacity. Steph didn't even take the time to appreciate the fact that she had gotten through the smoke and out of the room. She was just putting extra determination in to her escape. Her feet were thumping against the ground, she didn't have the strength to be quiet. <strong>&gt;Thnm - Thnm - Thnm - Th-nmth&lt;</strong> Only capable of focusing loosely on one thing at a time. Steph was starting to run, the throbbing headache was getting worse though. Every step caused a surge of pain to go through her skull, and every heartbeat forced a dull pain into her eyes, her ears, and her temples. Her ribs were in pain too, as well as the internally snapped bone in her arm. It was all melting together as the adrenaline was giving her the ability to move and stay awake. She continued to run, no bother to keep her steps from making noise.<br><br>Spoiler <strong>&gt;clicked&lt;</strong> and <strong>&gt;tapped&lt;</strong> down the hallways. The chains on her staff jangled when it was holstered on her back. The pain was detrimental. She had no idea if she was running out of the complex, or deeper into the complex. Steph was trying to read the signs on the wall, but none of them seemed to help her find the loading bay. She had clearly made a wrong turn somewhere. She had gone and ended up in a maze, and her path was erratic. Still panicking, still trying to stay awake, she was just running as fast as she could away from Deathstroke. <em>'The loading bay, the loading bay.' </em>She was nowhere near the loading bay.<br><br>Realizing that she wasn't being immediately pursued, Steph slowed to a walk and tried to devise a plan. <strong>'Where in the hell is my bike.'</strong> Steph's voice groaned into what looked like an empty hallway. Her invisible chest heaved up and down. Vertigo hit her suddenly, the slowing motion combined with her racing heart and the concussion was like another punch to the head. Steph's left leg went weak and she went down to her knees. She was hardly conscious, but somehow, as her muscles loosened around the payload, she managed to hold the box when she had fallen. Catching the item against her hip and her palm. She lowered her hand to let go of the box, and let it drop a few inches. It plunked against the ground with soft impact, and as it physically left her grip, it went visible in front of her. <br><br>Steph put her hand to her forehead again and groaned. <br><br>She took a moment to look behind her, and listen for what was going on. It had taken a long moment, but she suddenly remembered that Kate had said that she would be right behind her. <em>'Uh oh.' </em> She angled her left hand down and inactivated her belt. Spoiler's form came to shape next to the fallen box. Her masked face looked in all directions.&nbsp; <br><br>It was eerily silent. <em>'That's always bad.'</em> She was wrong, her team had succeeded while she panicked and ran into the maze of the unfamiliar laboratory. Still fuzzy, Steph reached her left hand down to the pressure pad on her utility belt. It opened her comm to the whole group. <strong>"This is Spoiler. I'm lost in the halls. I was looking for the loading dock. I can't- I can't-"</strong> She struggled with the pain, and had trouble admitting that she couldn't find the exit. So, she didn't, <strong>"--I'm Still looking for an exit. Copy." </strong><br><br>Spoiler put her hand down onto the box. She used her outstretched left arm to stand up. A jumbled <strong>&gt;thud-ud-ud&lt;</strong> filled the hallway as her body fell against the wall. Steph leaned to get to her feet, and looked around for the exit signs.<em> 'Get moving, stay awake, don't pass out. Kate should be close, no need to hurry.'</em> Steph separated from the wall as silently as she could. Her eyes started to look for signs more carefully, and tried to orient herself again. She thought about what side of the building she had come into, and tried to magically obtain directional awareness as she silently stumbled through the halls. Steph wanted to call out for Kate, but she hadn't heard a response, and she couldn't hear anyone coming over the ringing in her ears. <br><br>Her head was spinning. Steph felt the need to remove her hood. Painfully, she was able to push it back with her broken arm. With her screaming thumb, she was able to lower her mask as well, desperately trying to get as much oxygen as possible, her blonde hair spilled out onto her shoulders and in front of her face. 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: DC Earth 2 Rpg: S.T.A.R. Labs Gotham East</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Diesel Heart</strong> on <strong>12-12-2015, 13:42:29</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/a1/71/86/a17186b8f0359a16a4ae8901ab01df68.jpg)</div><strong><em>Name:</em></strong>&nbsp; Katherine 'Kate' Kane&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp; <strong><em>Moniker:</em></strong>&nbsp; Batwoman<br><strong><em>Affiliation:</em></strong>&nbsp; Bat Family;&nbsp; Department of Extranormal Operations<br><strong><em> Location:</em></strong>&nbsp; S.T.A.R LAbs<br><strong><em>Time:</em></strong>&nbsp; October 17, 2015; 2026 hours | Saturday<br><strong><em>Speaking To:</em></strong>&nbsp; Spoiler<br><strong><em>Mentioning:</em></strong>&nbsp; Deathstroke,&nbsp; Nightwing,&nbsp; Superboy,&nbsp; GCPD,&nbsp; Maggiw Saywer<br><hr><strong><em>Summary:</em></strong>&nbsp; Pursuing Spoiler left Batwoman with momentary panic before the sound of shuffling feet calmed suspicion.&nbsp; Once she finally reached Spoiler, she administered what first aid she could until getting her out of the building and to medical assistance.<br><hr><br>&nbsp; <span style="font-size: 12pt;" class="bbc_size"><strong>B</strong></span>atwoman was prepared to contend with Deathstroke again if necessary.&nbsp; Half of her wanted to face him alone in fact.&nbsp; His underestimations were already proving to be his downfall, blinded by the arrogance exhibited in the taunts and snark.&nbsp; However, she had a greater, more important concern.&nbsp; Stephanie was in dire need of medical attention.&nbsp; As an added precaution, Stephanie was delegated to make extraction with the item of interest.&nbsp; To finalize the necessity to remove the beautiful, young blonde from more harm, Batwoman stood before Deathstroke to buy more time to get distances and she had full intention to follow shortly.&nbsp; In the right hand, held diagonally and behind her with the tip aimed at the floor, her staff was a compliment to poise.&nbsp; A poise of limpid intentions that suggested challenge but warning.&nbsp; The chin was tucked, lowered down toward her chest while the left hand was free to be positioned loose at her side.&nbsp; In general, the derelict stance was designed to leave inaccurate preconceptions but the body language in association with the vampiric appearance usually intimidated the lesser-willed creatures.&nbsp; Batwoman was not naive enough to believe it would work on Deathstroke, but an assumed stance designed towards subterfuge was enough to force his hand if he did so.&nbsp; After all, she was the immediate obstacle to his paycheck.<br><br>Fortunately, the young men behind her took initiative to circumvent her readied - and eager - third bout.&nbsp; The moment she bore witness to Nightwing's aerial drop and grappling,&nbsp; Batwoman turned to sprint for Stephanie.&nbsp; Timing seemed another blessing, seeing Stephanie sluggishly waft into the smokescreen before fading out of sight.&nbsp; Step one:&nbsp; Get Stephanie out of immediate danger had been completed.&nbsp; Even so, there was always possibilities.&nbsp; What if this man wasn't alone?&nbsp; It wasn't the first time such a thought occurred.&nbsp; Furthermore, what if he managed past Nightwing and Superboy to pursue?&nbsp; These are half the reasons Batwoman chased after Spoiler.&nbsp; The other half was identifying physical condition.&nbsp; It was likely impossible Spoiler was getting out of this building without aid.&nbsp; A possibly serious concussion, a broken arm and enough pain to make anyone want to drift unconscious to escape it was there.&nbsp; Assistance was not only advised but necessary and since it was her protege, she needed to take that responsibility.&nbsp; Yet, when she passed through the smoke-screen, Spoiler was out of sight.<br><br>Underneath the cowl, Batwoman's browline pressed together while eyes narrowed skeptically.&nbsp; Initial conclusion brought her to gaze over a shoulder and see any sign of shadow-like heaps on the ground within the smoke-screen.&nbsp; There was nothing there.&nbsp; Second deduction assumed the benefit of Spoiler's belt enable a higher form of stealth than she was capable of, invisibility.&nbsp; In that small moment of pause though, the sound of footsteps advancing down the corridor was detected.&nbsp; Batwoman followed and spoke up as Stephanie groaned out a statement about a vehicle.&nbsp; However, the cube suddenly came into view after she heard what sounded like a collapse.&nbsp; It was a mixed message, honestly.&nbsp; Batwoman's concern and fear of losing Stephanie began to get louder and unbearable difficult to ignore.&nbsp; Fear that was striking up agitated anger to replace the serene fury she had for Deathstroke.&nbsp; Batwoman took a risk and was paying the consequence for it.&nbsp; However, if Spoiler passed out, it meant she could carry her out of her safely.&nbsp; That's when she deactivated stealth and came into view on knees halfway down the corridor.<br><br>By the time Batwoman reached her, the girl's stubborn resolve drove another stand with cube in hand.&nbsp; She quickened her pace to get beside Stephanie while compressing the staff in order to tuck it into the belt around the waist.&nbsp; Then she removed her cape.&nbsp; Enough was enough and she was going to give what medical treatment possible to Stephanie before they left this building, even at the risk of being caught up to.&nbsp; Like Spoiler, she was ignorant to Deathstroke's withdrawal.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Stay still,"</em>&nbsp; she said softly, gently pressing a hand to the uninjured arm's shoulder in hopes to placate.&nbsp; <em>"Listen to me and stay calm, okay?&nbsp; Drop the cube for now.&nbsp; It's less important than you."</em><br><br>Assuming Stephanie allowed Batwoman to follow through with intentions, the injured arm would be fashioned into a makeshift cast composed of Batwoman's staff as the splint and the cape as the mechanism to hold it in place.&nbsp; Using Stephanie's cloak, the cube would be fashioned into a satchel-carrying wrap around the waist.&nbsp; Finally, Stephanie would be lifted into a bridal carry and brought through the exit just as the police arrived on scene.<br><br>&nbsp; &nbsp; &nbsp;<em>"Go to sleep, sweetheart.&nbsp; The whole thing about falling asleep with a concussion is a myth.&nbsp; You'll be awake if you vomit, trust me, okay?&nbsp; I'm getting you home, I promise."</em><br><br>Fortunately,&nbsp; Maggie was one of the responding officers directly from the bank and Spoiler was delegated to her care.&nbsp; Maggie drove Spoiler back to the Batcave at Wayne Manor and placed into Alfred's loving medical experience.&nbsp; Batwoman remained behind to inform the police what happened and to wait for Dick and Connor.&nbsp; She already earned the concerning stare from Mags, knowing damn good and well that Kate was shaken up.&nbsp; Hopefully, she can keep the inclination of worry from the others because they both knew why taking Spoiler on was a rough decision.&nbsp; If you asked her, it wasn't Stephanie she brought out of that building.&nbsp; It was her dead cousin, Bette. 
			</dd>
		</dl>
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