February 27, 2016:

Scarecrow's heist is foiled by an ice cream truck with a vendetta…

Gotham City - Gotham Perennial Heights

Gotham Perennial Heights is a tower in which the high-middle class live. Most are quite well off, and the tower is well maintained as it is only a fifteen story building of condos. Not big enough to draw attention, but proper enough to gain a fast amount of wealth for those aiming to get a quick payday with the proper methods.



Mentions: Batman


Mood Music: [* ]

Fade In…

It was such troublesome work, to craft such an interesting potion. It took even more time to make an aerosol.

Needed. It was all needed. That's what he reminded himself as he sent them towards the first 'testing ground.' A modest tower of wealth, of pristine elegance. Thirty stories, but none of the tenants there were light on the pockets. That was why he selected it.
Maintenance workers were always the easiest to impersonate, especially when they suddenly took a leave of absence over simple agoraphobia…That didn't need a toxin. As his men did their work quickly, installing the pods within each vent during the nightly clean-up, Scarecrow only watched from afar. The best vantage point was always the simplest, within an unmarked van across the road.

As morning came, and the tenants awoke, they would find something nagging in the back of their minds…
"Scarecrow, we have set up the stands as you asked! Are you sure this is going to work?"

*static* "Doubt me again and be an example."
The goon would freeze a moment before standing up straight…behind a sign saying 'Disposal Unit' in black lettering.

Towers of twisting blackened metal cover the horizon. A low cloud front taking its toll over the city, as everything is finalized. The traffic is thick as soup blocked up by downed power lines, one of gothams finest taking to directing the traffic by hand, standing in the middle of the intersection right across from the tower. Honking shouting and general unease fills the air.

Stuck in the parking lot a simple icecream truck with a large rotating clowns head sits blaring out it's iconic tune. Children and adults alike smiling as they order from the man in the back who's dressed in a rather over the top clown costume to help sell the treats. A smile from ear to ear on his face, as he passes out the confections.

The people in the tower feel restless, and they cannot place why. They have different opinions about what's wrong with the day…some blaming horoscopes, some blaming chakra, some blaming a new fangled religion they were trying out. All of them though begin to just appear miserable…and some anxious. It's not until further on that the first takes action.
"Disposal? For what, sir?"
"Oh, ahh, well we were sent here to clean up! Apparently there is something wrong with the tower, too many flashy things, so our boss told us to wait here and you guys would bring the stuff out!"
"Oh! I know just what is wrong! One moment"
It only takes a little while longer until it begins…people bringing down numerous items from their apartments. Clothing, jewelry, even plain cash…The disposal units have their hands full. The people are -giving away their wealth.- Some even throwing it straight from their windows…littering the street with cash and valuables—causing quite a ruckus in the process.
It's when a custom bust of brass lands square on top of the cab of the ice cream truck that the noise may attract the merrymaker.

And within the van on the corner, the Scarecrow watches in pleased silence.

The clown is in the middle of passing over a simple three scoop icecream cone over to a mileage businessman, when the bust makes impact causing the trucks back wheels to lift into the air as it's thrown somewhat off balance sending the cone smacking right into the businessmans face. Soon after comes the boom of the rear tires smacking right into the ground once again.

"My my, would you look at that?" The clown asks before turning his attention towards the bust. "Suppose that's one way to get ahead in life." A slight pause as he lets out a low sigh, before simply pulling out a silenced pistol, firing two shots into the face of the businessman, sending him falling to the ground. "And things were going so well too."

The body hits the floor, the red of the cherry icecream mixing with the blood. Screams cry out as he hits, people beginning to pour from out the back of the ice-cream van each of them dressed as a different style of clown. They begin to mow down civilians with their automatic weapons spreading out towards the base of the building. Their entire plan having been put into motion early.

The officer who'd been directing traffic takes a sudden swift motion pulling up a rifle of his own and Opening up into the oncoming traffic as people begin to speed through the intersection. Chaos erupts as people on all sides crash into each-other. "Honestly, it's just impossible to find a good parking space these days."

It was going perfectly, the toxin was a successful run. Plutophobia, the fear of wealth. He had the right dose, just enough to make them 'uncomfortable' with wealth. Scarecrow settled back in the chair as he watched the monitors. A good haul had already been stolen away, well technically donated, before it started going…wrong.

The man in straw and burlap sat up fast, hissing like an animal through his respiration gear as the gunfire rang out.
"No…No, no no!!!"
A monitor is smashed with a clenched fist. That's when the radio goes loud again.
*static and feedback* "Stop firing at them you fools!"
"Sir…it's not us! Someone els-ACK!"
Scarecrow's rage only builds as his men are gunned down as well in the crossfire that were manning the main 'Disposal Unit' in the first moments. His breathing becomes even more louder as he begins to yell into his radio for a response about who is firing.

What happened to those exposed to the toxin? Well, adrenaline pumping into their veins now causes a very unexpected reaction. Outright terror, amplified by what is in their veins, causes any within earshot of the gunfire to fall into a crumpled screaming mess…tearing off any item of elegance and flinging it randomly as if it was on fire.

Bodies slump over the steering wheels of a number of cars as they careen towards stop lights and buildings. Horns honking out in their long lasting droning warning as the weight keeps them down. Laughter enters the mix from the masked clowns their clowny gas-masks making them quite the sight as their voices distort.

The glass doors covering the entrance to the building are shot clean open as simple gas grenades are thrown into the loby. Their dark green smoke beginning to fill the air, at first providing but a simple cloud cover for the advancing troops as they slaughter their way along. Before the laughter of more and more people fills the air. The last laugh that many of them will ever have.

The engine of the icecream truck revs up, as it speeds along towards the glass entrance. A number of innocent civilians mown down by the speeding vehicle as it travels. The blaring Dixie horn calling out as it reaches ramming speed, which for an ice-cream truck seems to be surprisingly high.

The officer in question still firing off his AK-47 into traffic slides a mask of his own up to cover his face, grabbing onto the nose of the mask for a quick honk while firing wildly with one hand into the air. There's no care for who or how many people get hurt as rounds fly into the windows of nearby buildings laughter coming from behind his mask.

"Drive. DRIVE!"
Scarecrow's radio goes smashing through the back glass viewing window of the van he had chosen to hide in. His driver, already dead from gunfire, just falls forward on the steering wheel causing it to honk in a constant tone. Within, the man behind the straw seethes. He whirls back to the remaining monitors, staring at them in attempt to learn who is causing the chaos. The hints of white faces give him his answer, and now he's just looking for the man in question.
Residents simply make speedbumps at this point as their fear of their own money keeps them lying in crumpled heaps, screaming at either being shot at or about their pearl necklace not coming off.

When Scarecrow sees the speeding truck, his eyes narrow as he hisses.

The ice-cream truck smashes right through the revolving door sending more glass everywhere as it skids to a stop, right through the front desk. Green smog continues to fill the room, as men in gas masks with large burlap bags begin to run out grabbing everything that they can from the ground. Four of them in all just working fast as they can to grab whatever they can.

Out from the back of the ice cream truck, steps a man dressed in a purple and green pinstriped zoot suit, with massive shoulders, and a bright orange undershirt. In one hand he holds a rather cartoonish representation of Batman's head, a large bite calmly taken out from the ear, as he places a bullet right between the eyes of a laughing member of Scarecrows burglars. "You smell that boys?" He calls out taking a deep breath of that joker toxin filled air. "No smell quite like it on earth." Walking calm and collected even in spite of all the chaos. "Smells like… Victory." Before just bursting out into laughter, taking another bite out of batman. "Oooh and licorice."

"Clown…You truly know how to ruin an experiment." *static and feedback* "You walked right into a beautiful example of my work and turned it into shards of nothing."
Scarecrow's voice suddenly cuts through the air, screaming at such a high volume at first it sounds like nails on a chalkboard. His voice booms over the entire building's sound system, and even his own men's radios…
He had pulled his radio back into the back of his van, rigging it back together to address the clown from a safe difference. Crane feels no fear, but he knows the Joker feels no mercy. He's too early in his plans to suffer a gunshot.
"Interrupting is rude."

Rude? Rude can be done. The sound begins from down the street, the pitch of a high performance engine pushing a motorcycle further than a two wheeled vehicle could do, but that does tend to happen when the engine of a performance car is shoved into it. The chaos was palpable and everywhere, forcing the Green Arrow to swerve the bike around fleeing citizens of Gotham, cutting and hard braking to avoid them. Stopping about four blocks away, he pops up on the bike momentarily to scan the horizon towards the destination where the screams and chaos are originating from, narrowing his archer eyes to see if he can determine what is ahead before hopping back down.
A kick over of the engine occurs and once more the Arrow is making his way through the streets towards the disturbance, not taking a route of subtlety out of a habit, a bad one that has formed. Over confidence.

"Aww Scarecrow, if I would have known it was you, I would have brought more butter pecan." The smile fading from the Jokers face as he pouts quietly for a moment. Without even flinching he puts two bullets into the head of one of his own goons whose mask had been broken in the gunfire. "Ah ah, no interrupting, the adults are talking."

The clown prince of crime walking his way over towards a large painting on the wall. "Come on Scarecrow, if you wanted privacy you should have hung a sock on the door!" Bullets still flying in every direction as the two groups clash, a careless moment of the Joker stepping over a corpse with a garish grin on its face from the toxin. "Honestly, If you only had a brain." He sings out tapping his wing tip shoes together. A slight pause for him to reach down to grab the skull of the laughing manager, two goons of his reaching to pull down the painting. "You could while way the hours, conversing with the flowers, and all the birds and bees."

Outside the chaos of the moment is still winding down as people have cleared their way from the streets. It's not even a few moments before the red and blue lights of the REAL police begin to blare, the cops having to come out on foot just to get around the traffic. The clown in the cop uniform runs out from the middle of the road over to his own squad car. He quickly reaches inside the back seat and begins digging around for that spare rocked launcher he brought along for the ride.

"You fool, you drew the police here with this outburst!"
Scarecrow slams a fist on the table within the van, growling now at first. He regains his composure, and sends out a loud series of beeps that tells his men by code to start falling back. Those surviving, those not laughing, honestly were only those who were lucky enough to be on the first crew to leave with the load of loot. Scarecrow is only concerned with the appearance of Gotham's finest. He knows in the back of his mind that would bring the Bat.
"Trying to call out your Abel? Or do you purposefully try to anger me. I've already claimed my quota. If you would simply learn to ask…"
Scarecrow knows the Clown's immunity to toxins that he has already made. He thankfully keeps a proper ace in the hole rigged to his men's vests…

Coulrophobia serum.

Before the Gotham Blues get to the scene, the motorcycle which is carrying the Arrow revs and hits up over a nearby car, riding the top of it before cascading down the hood, popping again over the next car and the vigilante hops off the vehicle to land on his feet. Bow is already in hand with an arrow nocked and drawn as he scans over the carnage. Voice modulation, such a fun trick, adjusts his voice to the grainy bass sound that is a bit signature for the green hoodie wearing man. "Put down your weapons. No one else needs to get hurt."
The problem facing the Arrow is that there is a lot going on, he swings from one way to the other, scanning the divide of where he is standing attempting to find the ringleaders, or anyone for that matter, which could indicate just what the hell was going on — at least something more than the splattering of bodies which have marked the location now.

"And where's the fun in a perfect crime Murphy?" Taking hard hold onto the managers head, forcing an eye open with two fingers, before holding him up against a large retinal scanner on the safe behind the painting. "It's the surprises in life that make it just so much fun! Besides, afraid the big bad wolf is going to blow down your house of straw?" The scanner beginning to read the mans eye, even as his hand is forces onto the palm reader on the safe. A wall of security for such a small looking safe in such a public place.

Green smog pours its way out from the building, a number of people with large bags of goods already running from the scene of the crime. Roghly twelve or so clowns still remain outside looking for anyone they can shoot, and with the arrival of the green arrow they have a target. For a moment they pause moving as if to sit their weapons down and place their hands behind their heads. The entire thing ready to be simply over without any more bloodshed…. before they open fire on him.

The 'cop' from earlier directing traffic seems to have other plans in place as he hops back out onto the hood of his car, taking to one knee. A large javelin missile launcher now held over his shoulder. He takes a slow and steady aim for Green Arrow, trying to get a good lock on for the green crusader.

Scarecrow simply has had enough. Without even knowing that Arrow has arrived on the scene, he activates his contingency plan. With the flick of a switch in the van, the vests of his dead men suddenly detonate into a yellow fog. It immediately mixes with the Joker Gas, becoming the same color of it after a while as it spreads with it. Within it, Coulrophobia combined with Plutophobia. He's simply poisoning anyone around, including Joker's goons who aren't immune, with the fear of clowns and also the very wealth they carry. It's not to disrupt Joker, but rather create the proper escape plan.
As soon as the switch is flipped, Scarecrow has grabbed ahold of the bottom of the van and begins twisting a crank open.
He aims to escape into the sewers below, which is why he chose such a useful parking spot…right above an open manhole.

The first volley of bullets is nearly anticipated by The Arrow who sends three of his trade marked barbed shafts towards the Joker's men shooting at him with intent on getting towards the shoulders. Even as the last of the arrows is loosed, The Arrow is moving to slide over the hood of a car out of the line of fire from the machine guns. Popping up from behind during a break in the volley two more are sent flying free.
It is during this intermission of firing that vests explode sending gas into the gas and has the hooded hero looking on with a tilt of his head. The voice modulation picks up the tone as he speaks quietly to himself in observation. "What the hell?!" This distraction has his attention, not the stinger missile that is about to be fired into his vicinity.

The door swings open for joker, sliding off to one side as the tumblers twist and shift. There's oh so much security here that it's a wonder how one was expected to get into it normally. As he goes to reach in, the vests go off. There's a moments pause as everything mixes together, the joker just holding the box in his hands. "Looks like I'm not the only one who brought a few toys to the party." Joker comments idly as his own men begin screaming and shooting one another. Sheer chaos reining once again.

Joker doesn't even waste a moment before placing a bullet right between the eyes of his two clowns once he understands what's going on. This whole mission getting suddenly a bit more difficult, even as he drops the now dead manager, and turns to make for the back exit. His movement rather fast with a spring in his step as his own men turn on each-other screaming shouting and shooting.

Outside of the building the reaction is the same once those vests go off and the yellow smog mixes with the green. Screaming terror and panic before the firing of guns some of the men simply falling to the ground and curling up into little muttering murmering balls of broken people.

Cop-Clown takes this moment to finally fire off a round from his javelin at the green crusader. There's a look on his face of shock when he finally sees the reaction to the men who are suddenly turning on one another. Hidden behind that smiling mask, he doesn't exactly have the will to fire off another shot throwing the thing to the ground.

As the hatch is flung open, Scarecrow's van is filled with not only Joker Gas but the toxin of his own making. Immune to the troubles it causes, he drops straight down through the open manhole beneath. He lets a low grunt out, not caring anymore about what happens above the surface or around him. As he drops into the depths of Gotham's sewers, he looks up and pushes a button on his radio. He dives away in time to see his van suddenly detonate.
He only lets out a longer growl of irritation, but in the end it works in his favor as gas drips down, flaming, into the water near him.
He just turns, beginning to limp down the sewer grate towards his pickup point. Hopefully he gained at least enough to begin his next attempt at gaining resources for this new plan.

The streaking heat of a missile being fired is enough to draw the Arrow's attention from the gas attacks and the masked men firing on each other. Working to process what is going on causes him that moment's delay before he turns to look up. Two steps are taken away from the vehicle just as the missile strikes it and the Green Arrow slices through the air just like one of his own blades, across the street and through the glass lobby of an adjacent building carried by the explosionary forces.
The second shockwave of the car exploding sends more debris through the same place the Arrow just flew into, effectively taking him out of the situation and providing a relatively safe exit for the Joker; at least until the Gotham police arrive.

Without much ceremony or build up the joker runs his way out the back of the building. His men are already thinning themselves out dieing in droves to their own gunfire. By the end of this toxin there will be thirty of his own men dead if not more. Piles of corpses for everyone in the early light of the morning.

The police arrive on the scene only seconds after the initial explosion of the car, running on foot with weapons drawn as they rush through the blocked streets jumping over trucks and using the stopped traffic for cover. While they had been prepared for a war by the time they get there, there will only be a street full of the corpses of criminals, killed by the gas or killed by one another.

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