How To Stake Out An Op

April 28, 2015:

While on a patrol, Nightwing meets two new 'allies'…

Gotham Docks

Shipping Docks of Gotham


NPCs: None.


Mood Music: [* None.]

Fade In…

Honey Lemon is, frankly, too colorful by half to do a good job of any ninja-like stealth. But, she's decent enough at walking carefully and staying under cover, being aware of her surroundings, that she hasn't drawn a lot of attention. It helps that she can come up with a fog cloud or the like at a moment's notice. Or knockout gas, if necessary. She has been following the shipment since it boarded ship in New York Harbor. She wants to know where these chemicals are going, especially since they are so dangerous. Alone, none of them is a heavily restricted substance. But together, they could well be used to create something as lethal as nerve gas. And Honey is chemist enough to know that almost as soon as she saw the manifest, /after/ spotting some of the chemicals when she went to buy her own for her labs in Manhattan. Now, she's just hoping to find clues as to the buyer, or their intended use of these chemicals. Anything will do. So she stays crouched behind a passenger vehicle, watching the unloading of the hold, waiting to spot the crates she tagged earlier. They'll glow in her visor view, which is handy.

The reason why many shipments of illicit materials goes through Gotham is because it's a dark, shadowy city. Some say that it's corrupted — cops can be bribed to look the other way and the mafia can be paid so that their guarded docks and warehouses can be used.

It also means that those that seek to protect the city are also of the darker and more shadowy variety.

And bright, shiny, and colorful sticks out like a sore thumb.

Nighwing has been following this woman with the glowing visor for a few blocks now. Not that she necessarily seemed suspicious herself, but more that she seemed to be a shiny beacon among the dark and gritty. Folks like that tend to come to Gotham only when they're after something themselves. They try to keep tabs on them when possible, so he's also found a perch, above the crouching girl in the visor, to watch an apparent shipment arrive.

It's too soon for him to know what it is, but he has his binoculars out and ready.

Not far from the docks, a lone woman walks along in the shadowy places. She's got earbuds, of the black Skull Candy variety, a studded leather jacket with a massive MISFITS skull logo on the back, and a ripped up black t-shirt underneath. The skirt is impossibly short, black fishnets over purple tights and obscenely big, clunky studded heels that she's surprisingly good at sneaking around in.

"Mama raised a hellrazor… born thuggin, heartless and mean, muggin at sixteen…"

As she raps along to herself, she pulls down a pair of sunglasses in order to peer into the purse slung over her shoulder. Her eyes are bloodshot, alarmed, and for a moment she rummages around in that purse as if she was worried that she'd lost something. "Oh, thank God," she murmurs, before hustling along toward the nearest intersection, which she begins to cross in spite of the big red DON'T WALK sign over the intersection.

An old station wagon enters the intersection, headed right for her, but Lynette just keeps on walking. A sneer forms on her black-painted lips, and she motions toward the car as if it were some sort of annoyance. The driver promptly falls asleep at the wheel, swerving out of the way only to smash right into a fire hydrant. The front end crushes up, water spurts into the sky, and the horn comes on when the driver's bloody head smashes back into the steerwing wheel.

"Oy!" she shouts out. "Watch where you're goin', ya fuckin' bawbag!!"

The more brightly attired woman watches as the crates she was tracking are finally unloaded from the ship, heading down the gangplank towards the waiting vehicles. But, of course, just as she's about to see which vehicle she now needs to track … there's a car crash. What the heck?

Honey Lemon turns, because she can't /not/ turn around. She sees the car crash, the injured civilian inside, and she exhales forcefully, and launches a glowing sphere she'd been holding in her hand towards the ground in front of her. Moments later, she's skating across instantly-formed ice, streaking towards the car, having no idea that someone else /made/ the driver have that accident. How mean!

Nightwing also turns at the sound of the car crash and quickly pulls out a burner phone to call an ambulance. His eyes, behind his mask, however, watch the girl as she tosses something and skids towards the car. That could be…tricky to deal with and bears observation.

Again, the crates could be crates…although most legit business doesn't tend to happen in the dead of night. Then again, scantily clad punks don't often walk the streets of Gotham alone, either. The binoculars are brought down and the crash is reported before the phone is tossed onto the roof and he quickly makes his way down closer to the unloading shipment, nearly silent.

He can't rightly attack them without knowing what's in here so the first order of business is to get at a crate so he can open it.

He hasn't forgotten the punky girl or the bright girl…he's doing his best to split his attention as best as he can.

"Whoa!" Lynette's eyes go bright wide when Honey Lemon comes scooting in on a glowing thing. "Awright, yeah?" the Scottish punk points out, and turns to thrust a hand toward the crashed car and spewing hydrant. "You see that? Innae crossin' on the red, lass, the bawbag ran the light and came close to -" She turns to face the accident fully, raising her voice to an angry yell. "-knockin' me OUT OF MY KNICKERS!!!"

Her fist comes up, and she shoots the wrecked car the bird.

Without missing a beat, Lynette spins back around to her new visor, smiling in a manner that is somehow bright and wicket all at once. "Hi," she croons. "You're shiny."

Honey Lemon does not detour for the Scottish lass with the interesting affectations; her concern is wholly focused on the motorist and the car. She skates the ice sheet that her little sphere created and stops at the side of the car, extracting another sphere from the odd purse at her side and tossing it on the engine, where it foams up and shrouds the car with fire retardant goop. Then she reaches through the window to check on the driver, and scans for anyone or anything else important in the car. Yes, she's shiny. Not so glowy, beyond the purse and the spheres she extracts from it. But she is shiny.

The crates Nightwing is now watching are being loaded not into a box truck or onto a semi, but are instead being loaded into a small panel van. That makes it a tight fit, though he's likely to be able to get near enough to get pictures of the shipping labels, which could be enough. Getting into the crates undetected would be a lot of a challenge. Not that a member of the Bat family isn't up to that challenge. But still, it'll be tight.

It takes a glance at a label or two before Nightwing makes up his mind about what to do. First of all, the plates of the vans are quickly committed to memory before he slinks over to a driver's side to open the door and silently pull the driver out and behind the 'blind side' of the van.

The girls seem occupied and it might be another minute or two before the sirens of the ambulance can be heard. The question is, will it be enough time?

"Wait a minute," Lynette says out loud, while reaching up to rip the earbuds from her ears. The beat of 2-Pac can be heard as they flop down against her chest. "Glowy things, that means metahuman powers. And you're in this area… just… like, by coincidence? I don't think so!" With a rueful smirk, she rushes on over toward Honey Lemon, rubbing at her nose while she goes. "So, what is it, huh?" she asks. "Drug bust? Scouting shit out for Batman? Oy, looks like the ruddy bastart got 'imself all banged up. Christ! I'd call an ambulance, but really, I'd rather get one of those ambulance-chasin' lawyers on the phone. That fuck tried to hit me!" She boggles a bit at Honey Lemon, though the innocent look is tainted by the turn of her painted lips that just might be construed as ill-intended.

"Metahuman? Not me." Honey Lemon responds with a big smile. She's always amazed at how many people think that who and what she is has to mean powers. She extracts another glowing sphere from the purse and drops it against the car, letting it melt away the driver's door. Then she reaches inside, wraps her arms around the driver, and pulls the driver out safely, laying them out across the sidewalk before investigating for further injuries. "I don't know the Batman, though I have of course heard of him. I am Honey Lemon. And I think the more important thing here is this driver's health and safety." No mention is made of the potential weapons of mass destruction being carted around in those shipping containers.

Nightwing's silent abduction of the driver causes a stir, as two of the loaders start inquiring of each other who saw the driver last, where he was going, because it's time to go. They debate calling another driver, or one of them taking the wheel.

As the discussion begins, Nightwing takes that opportunity to plan the attack. Even as the two start talking about who should drive, he sneaks up behind them to try and clock their heads together. It probably wouldn't take them out, but the fight is now going to begin! It's probably no longer silent at this point…although hopefully the things in the boxes aren't so volatile that gunfire would set them off!

"Honey Lemon." Lynette smirks wryly. "You know, lassie, I think I knew a stripper with that name. She did this thing where she'd crush a beer can 'tween her tits." Up comes her arms, and she shoves her breasts together while making a 'crrrsh!' sound with her mouth. "Just like that. Jesus Christ you should'a seen the kind of tips that bitch would rake in. Swear to God, I almost took up pole dancing classes when I saw the rain of Lincolns heading her way."

Honey is … not happy. The last thing she needs is someone comparing her name - HER NAME - to some nomme de guerre for a STRIPPER! But she has more important things to deal with, like checking on the driver …

Or she did, before she hears the fight erupting all the way back at the van where all of this started. Oh. Crap. Gunfire! This is serious!

Nightwing manages to bonk the two guys together, and they stagger away slightly dazed, and take swings at him which he likely avoids with his usual panache. However, their shouting expletives manage to draw the attention of the dock 'security', and they start shooting at the darkly costumed figure 'messing' with their docks. Uh oh.

The Bats may despise guns, but the rest of Gotham seems to love them. There's a grimace as Nightwing dives behind one of the vans to avoid some bullets. A few moments later, he's vaulting over one of the other cars to swing his escrima stick at a gunman's head even as he ducks and rolls to sweep a leg behind the man's knees. He's forgotten about the girls for a moment…at least they're not in the middle of the fight!

"Oy!" Lynette cries when she hears gunfire. "A gunfight! Come on." She grabs Honey Lemon by the elbow, forcefully. "Leave that bum to the cops. I can handle gun fights." She grins wickedly, and begins rushing off toward the sound of gunfire, dragging Lemon in tow unless the girl decides to shrug her off or something.

As soon as Lynette skids into the area, she comes to a halt and peers at the fighting. "Lass, wait til you see what happens when they get a load of these legs." She struts forward, raising her voice and shouting out at one of the gunmen. "HEY! FUCK FACE! Y'all wanna dance!?"

She winks at the gunman, sending a surge of oneiropathic energy his way. Unless the guy has some kind of metahuman resistance to telepathic attacks, he'll find his ass on the pavement, snoozing warmly quicker than you can say 'SASSY'.

"Are you crazy! You don't just run towards a gunfight!" Honey Lemon protests, yanking her arm out of Lynette's grasp. She uses another of her spheres to extrude a quick-hardening foam that will secure the driver's head and neck and align it with his torso for safety and security. Then, that done, the blonde heroine skates back towards the site of the battle. Of course, she's now showing up later than Lynette … who somehow seems to have KOed one of the gunmen with something as simple as a wink. What the heck!?!

Honey Lemon doesn't let herself get distracted; she can obsess over the mysteries of metahumans later. She sees Nightwing taking down men, and decides to do what she can to help. First attempt: She quickly programs her Power Purse, and then pulls out another sphere, launching it towards a few of the gunmen. Once it hits, it erupts into more quick-hardening, rapidly-expanding purple goo, entangling and entrapping the gunmen and neutralizing their guns. "Hopefully that's enough of that." she declares. Now, where's that van full of the stuff she was tracking?

Nightwing leaps out of the way of the thrown device, watching as the goo expands and catches the gunman. "Glad you're on our side!" is offered to both of the girls as he watches the other gunman just go down and out. Punky will bear some watching as they do like to keep track of the supernaturals…and the goo might get a sample taken from it. Maybe. If he has time. "I don't know how many there are, so keep your eyes open! Also, don't hit a crate…" since he's not sure they could withstand the damage.

"I'm not crazy!" retorts Lynette. "Just the stuff of men's dreams, doll," she answers with a winning grin, before moving off and darting her eyes toward the source of Nightwing's voice. "The more eyes we're shutting the more fun this will be," she fires back, a conspiratorial look to her face when she says it. "Alright, hot stuff, lead the way." She moves to follow Nightwing, though she passes a humored grin toward Honey Lemon as they go.

Honey Lemon starts sweeping van to van, until her visor picks up the glow of the chemical tracer she deployed much earlier. That's the van she was looking for. She pulls out another sphere, and splats it on the roof of this particular van, then sends a communications signal to GoGo from her suit. Hopefully, GoGo can tap into one of Howard's satellites and track the van when it leaves. When the emergency services personnel arrive, the brightly costumed woman approaches, making sure they have as much information as she can provide on the patient's condition, and she releases her own supports for him once they have theirs ready to put in place. By that point, it'll likely be time for her to just head home. Maybe the Bats can keep track of the shipment. Or maybe GoGo. But at this point, Honey Lemon has next to no shot of it herself, and she knows it.

Great. Another one who thinks this is 'fun'. Nightwing grimaces briefly before he points out, "This isn't a game." Although no one really seems to believe him until they find out the hard way. He will move to stick trackers on the vans getting the shipments but chasing after them doesn't seem to quite be in his plans tonight. He turns to Lynette, "I appreciate your help, but…you might want to head out before the cops arrive. I'm not too sure they'd appreciate the help." He goes to say the same to Honey Lemon, but…she's already moving towards the EMTs as they arrive.

This is his cue to leave, of course. Wouldn't want to break tradition.

"Awright mate, awright." Lynette grins coyly at Nightwing before turning to watch Honey Lemon get to work. "I'm tellin' you," she calls after Lemon, before making the little boob-crush gesture again. "A fucking beer can."

With that, Lynette pulls her earbuds back on and just goes back the way she came. She rubs at her nose again, before looking into her purse to rummage about.

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