Did you miss me?

January 26, 2016:

Ripper is back in Gotham after being gone awhile. He and Lunair catch up while killing some people with guns who probably deserved it. Then she starts saying things that make his brain hurt and possibly hits on him until he runs away.

Gotham Alleyway


NPCs: Very Generic Russians



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Lunair is hard at work. There's a few Russians gunning at her and vice versa. Their fight has broken out in the alleyways of Gotham, piercing the quiet, cold night with the noise. Lunair is somewhat armored, picking them off with claw-like weapons on her hand. She's clawing them. Trying something new. "uuugh, melee combat." Gun shots ring out when she gives up on that, accepting that she really is a gun bunny.

It is not hard to find, this noise.

There's a reason that David came back to Gotham. It's not for the low-cost housing, or for the places where he can do things with little fear of official law enforcement paying attention. It's not for "friends" either, that's for certain. No, it's because you can't go a mile after dark without running into somebody committing a violent crime. That's basicly Christmas to David. But given how long he has been gone, he decides to be cautious about interferring with random gunmen.

Cautious in this case means that he spends a good thirty seconds observing them and Lunair go at it from a nearby rooftop before deciding to join. That's long enough to determine that they're not, say, legitimate business owners and/or that the woman in the armor hadn't gone off the deep end. The fact that she used claws makes him hesitate a good 10 seconds. Then, finally, he commits.

"whheeeEEEEEEE!" The hyperactive artificially cheery voice of Ripper descends from above. The vigilante has been truly blessed tonight, because one of the men was close enough for Ripper to simply leap upon and use as a landing pad. Well, a landing pad for the tip of his sword at least. The momentum results in… not very pleasant things happening to a fair amount of the poor Russian's torso - he will also have serious bruises from where the young man landed on him too, assuming he lives long enough for form them.

"Hi Armory! How's life?" as if he were just catching up in a totally casual and natural manner, like bumping into a co-worker at the office.

"Nggh." Note to self: adjust angle of blade next time, because that sword is completely buried in the gunman and is not coming out easily.

Lunair does not claim to understand David. She does know she can generally handle him in a fight, and she finds him kind of adorable and amusing in his own way. But then, she sees him and her eyes widen behind her black visor. His entrance makes her hesitate a second. He's adorable. But odd.

She takes a shotgun to a Russian who pops up casually while thye chat. "Hi Ripper!" *BLAM!*

Lunair pauses. "It's alright. How are you? I was worried. You'd just disappeared. And um." She seems concerned as he's stuck, and will guard his back from encroachment.

Why Lunair seems to be so comfortable around him still remains vaguely surprising. He suspects she's damaged like he is, but not in quite the same way, because sane people like /her/. Maybe she's somewhere in the middle on the craziness scale? What is most important is that she continues to assist and protect him in combat, as she is doing then.

Ripper doesn't /look/ any different from last time. Well, maybe he's slightly taller, but wearing a cape that goes over the shoulders makes that real tricky to tell. He definitely acts the same; once he realizes his sword is going to be a pain to retrieve at that angle he switches tactics - and his grip. The sword now becomes a handle that the Russian can't remove from his back. The gunman is dead on his feet, but Ripper is able to keep him upright and manuever him from behind as something to soak up bullets aimed his way. "Human shield and knives beat guns, bes!" he shouts, flinging some throwing knives at another man.

"Oh, I went on vacation," he tells Lunair, his voice quieter while addressing her. "I had a great time! I took pictures and everything! Though, uh, I can't post them on Facebook because of the police."

Lunair is damaged in her own way. She likely has the perks of seeming harmless, hiding the psychosis to all but wise eyes or telepaths. Either way, she seems to enjoy her friend. She tries not to giggle at his actions with the dead Russian.

She helps pick off those bothering him. Though, the Russians are either dead, dying or not stickin around to help their friends. As things die down, Lunair nods as he speaks. "Really? Where did you go? I am glad to hear it went well." She is similar as before, except now? Lunair is in far, far better physical condition, somewhat adept in melee and sometimes- more disciplined, thoughtful. But she is still a psycho.

When the fighting ends Ripper lets the corpse drop to its knees. At that angle he has a good deal more leverage and is able to yank the blade free. Alas, his medical jacket (?) gets quite messy, but that's what bleach is for. Really, there's just so many little - and big - things that David has to learn the hard way due to lacking a proper teacher. Nobody that he can afford - and trust to teach him - can tell him the ins and outs of executions with a modern shortsword. He had to learn how to flick the blood off by watching movies!

"The moon!" Ok so he's probably not being honest with that. "Moon aliens don't like getting stabbed," he adds in a conspiratorial whisper. A pause. "Have you been working out? And why did you try and use claws?" It is audible that he thinks that was a Dumb Idea.

Lunair quirks her eyebrows at Ripper behind her black visor. Right then. She has to not smile at him. Aw. "I see. And hah. I was trying a new weapon. Everyone and their mom uses swords, so- I figured maybe a naginata or claws would be different," She muses.

A shrug at that. "We should talk somewhere not around a pile of corpses, huh? And being stabbed doesn't seem to be popular in many place," She remarks. "I'm glad to see you." This is true. "I take it things are going well for you?"

Something like professionalism enters Ripper's voice. Or at least the "I have the most AMAZING sugar high right now" quality of it dials back a few notches. "Naginata isn't a bad choice - it will give you the advantage of range." He finishes cleaning his sword off, sheaths it, and then goes to retrieve the throwing daggers he used. "A spear is easier to learn how to use, but you'll have better luck finding someone willing to teach you the naginata I bet. Western weapons aren't taught nearly as much as Eastern." And he's /still/ talking, giving her simple facts without any embellishment or insanity. It must be some kind of record. "If you want something for up close, go with a dagger. It has speed and it's sure easier and more intuitive than metal kitty claws."

"I'm alive!" The professional side goes away - back to "standard" crazy Ripper. Though his reply to her question on his wellbeing is rather ambiguous. One more glance around and then the masked man nods. "Ok, I'm done. Going someplace less corpsy is a good idea, but you should know," he tells her with sudden, dramatic mock seriousness, "that I do not date anybody who is more lethal than me, and you have more guns than God from what I hear."

Lunair tilts her head. "REally? And yeah. Like I said, I'm just experimenting," Lunair admits. She smiles faintly. "Claws are nice because I can work with them in unarmed techniques, but," She shrugs. "And I'm glad to hear that. Where are you off to tonight?" Lunair hops down from making sure no one else is coming to bother them. "I see you're still using your blade?" She inclines her head.

"I see." She considers something. "Would you be willing to work with others?" Peer.

"If knives strapped to your fingers fits into your unarmed techniques then your fighting style must be something to see!" The voice is teasing, but not harshly. It seems he just doesn't think they are practical weapons for someone like her. Probably because he just watched her using them. Or maybe he's just an opinionated jerk.

He doesn't seem to be heading anyplace in particular. "These guys got all used up, so I need some new playmates." If he goes far enough in any direction he'll find some evil - it IS Gotham. "What?! Of course! Mr. Problem Solver and I are inseperable!" Gosh, he sounds almost /offended/ by the observation that he wasn't using a new weapon. His motions and body language remain entirely unchanged though, so it's probably not a sign that he's going to fly into a murderous rage. Probably.

"Uhhh…" That last question does give him pause. He actually comes to a stop and turns to look at her more directly, peering back at her through the concealed eyeslots of his mask. "In what way?"

Lunair laughs softly. "Maybe." She rolls with it and shrugs. "I see. Well, it is Gotham," She muses. Lunair looks around. "Nice. And it does look a bit different, but swords are popular," She considers it. "I'm just - a lot of my friends like them, you know?"

"And they fight bad guys, getting their hands dirty where others do not. Think it over, okay?" A peer at David. "Did you want snacks sometime?" Or Tea? For nearly provoking him into a range, Lunair is oddly at ease. She probably just likes him.

Logic. It is his ally. Lunair is Logic's enemy. She makes about as much sense as card games on motorcycles. "Are we…" Yeah, he is genuinely confused, to the point that his Ripper voice is way off. Is she talking about a weapon club? Is she asking him for his opinion on a different weapon? Offering him membership into a cult? Trying to become his friend? "What are you… uh, what?"

"They do." Lunair makes sense, in her own right! She's just really, really bad at communicating. And she tries not to giggle at his voice. "You're adorable. And do you want to fight alongside others sometimes?" She asks. "It doesn't involve koolaid or orgies, so you'd be safe." That, is a joke.

'They do.' /What/?! How is that an answer to the question? How is that an answer to ANY question he's asked that night? Ugh. While she's trying not to laugh he's busy forcing his brain to reboot. Apparantly he's adorable, which means she is even crazier than he thought. And they… He opens his mouth behind the mask then closes it again - nope. Asking questions is not working right now. His Ripper voice is back to its "proper" form now and he forces himself to further embrace the role, helping him resist the effects of the thought-shredding weapon developed in a secret government lab that is called Lunair. "I'm always up for killing! Just as long as it's the sort of thing that looks good on my resume, you know? Dangerous Cultists, not puppies with cancer." And with that he is going, not even waiting for a reply. Because frickin Luna.

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