War of the Roses

April 20, 2016:

A Gang War in Gotham hits the streets and calls attention from some nearby Vigilantes.

Sheldon Park, Gotham

Clubs, bars and storefronts cover Sheldon Park; a hotspot for the night crowd. It's commercial and residential sections are formed almost horeshoe-like around the large grassy central hub of Sheldon Park that acts as the last bit of nature in this location, everything else has been plowed over and been constructed upon; although a historical section of Sheldon Park still exists that caters to the Greaser Subculture of the 1950s. Stylized diners with jukeboxes a big thing here and even a portion of the green section of the park cut out for an old drive in movie theater, a novelty that has unexpected popularity and traffic. To the east are trolley car yards, expansive docks and giant buildings housing massive ships. Unfortunately, being as popular as it is to tourists and the party crowds it's also high in crime (close proximity to Bowery and Park Row will do that).

Characters

NPCs: White Roses

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

There's always gang wars in Gotham, from the smallest of outfits to the largest. And today, one of the smaller outfits are about to erupt into violence. The Black and White Rose gangs have been alternatively trading death and peace for the last several months. But not two days ago, a White Rose was shot by a Black Rose very, very near the abandoned library Miss Moreau and her gang call home.

Today, near midnight, several cars pull up into Sheldon Park. Cheap, likely stolen, sedans form a near-circle. White suited men with a black rose on their suits exit first. There's at least ten of the thugs, plus one short greying man. They all have common street-level semi-auto's. Most seem to stay behind the cars, and all of them look twitchy.

Their opposites, Miss Moreau and her black suited, white-rose wearing companions have better guns, armor beneath the suit, but there's only six suited individuals, not counting a certain mercenary. Most also seem content to keep near the cars for cover. The two leaders of the groups slowly walk to the center of the circle of guns and tension that's thick in the air.

Despite it all, Moreau offers a warm smile. "Sebastion. It has been /too/ long! You look well."

The short man grimaces. "Let's get this over with Moreau."

The woman leans on her cane and shakes her head. "Fine, to business."

A half hour passes. The entire time, it's gang business: offers and counteroffers, with Sebastian rejecting every one. Finally, the frustrated gang leader makes a mistake.

He slaps Moreau. Silence hangs in the air.

A small, sad chuckle from the woman.

"….So that's how you want it, then. A pity."

Gunfire lights up the park with noise. As bullets whiz by, Sebastian and Miss Moreau clash, swordcane flashing as Sebastian blocks strikes with a knife, his gun hitting nothing but air even as he tries to hit his counterpart. None of the gangers see fit to fire at the dueling gang leaders.

Red Hood doesn't wear a rose. He got notice about a job and maybe the money wasn't all that he would look for, but the reason and location were enough for him to take a paycut. Helping a gangwar in Gotham. Yes, please!

Red Hood is…Red Hood. He's wearing the helmet and his own armored uniform and leather jacket. He also has his own weapons, some obvious, some not so much.

As the shooting starts, he gives a sigh before his own pistols come out and, with deadly accuracy, aim for the Black Roses.

Ford looked out his hotel's window at the dreary skyline of Gotham. Good night, did this place ever look cheerful? Still, it needed a bit of help from a real philanthropist. Lord only knows where Gotham's home grown rich boy is or what he's doing. And he had to admit, when the city wasn't emitting it's usual cries, it was a surreal peaceful sight.

…aaaaaaaaand there goes the gunshots… more shots… a LOT of shots! And they're close too! No, no, he shouldn't get involved. That was bad. Very bad for someone like him. Completely irresponsible. Which is why he cusses under his breath as he feels his feet carry him towards the door, grabbing his balaclava on the way out. Looks like the "Masked Meta" was about to make another appearance. This time on the streets of Gotham.

Hood's gunshots prove more than accurate: two of the Black Roses have neat little holes in their heads, and another has his gun shot out from his hand. The rest of Moreau's crew prove competent as well. Two more Black Roses die. But the White Roses take a casualty too, a thin looking gangster.

And worst still, there's four more cars that slide into the park, and more thugs with black roses pour out. One of them has a grenade launcher, and fires at Moreau and Sebastian.

Both criminals share a tense moment, and at the last minute, flee to the safety of their respective sides. Moreau slides over a car hood like she's been watching far too much Duke's of Hazard. Her coat is ragged, and her side bleeding mildly thanks to that grenade going off far too close.

Thus far, no one seems to notice a certain masked meta arriving on the scene! Both gangs are too busy killing each other.

Moreau offers a grin to Red Hood. "It looks like you get to really earn your paycheck tonight! More incoming! Slaughter every one of them, gentlemen! The Black Rose withers and dies this night!" Moreau laughs, enjoying the violence and bloodshed and chaos, somehow audible over all the gunfire. It's pure joy.

Red Hood's eyes narrow behind the mask as more gang members show up, "Did you intend for this to happen?" is asked of Moreau when she talks about earning his paycheck. Gangers in Gotham are bad. That's a given. He has no qualms getting rid of them, but…"Was this whole meet a trap for them?"

Nonetheless, he aims at the one holding at the grenade launcher. If he notices the incoming vigilante, he does nothing yet. At least there's no Bat-symbol.

Ford arrived on the site with his face covered, trying to assess the situation. The crucial things were to disarm anyone dangerous and prevent them from escaping before the authorities arrived. That was the goal, anyways. It's actually kind of interesting to see some masked hero show up without a flair for pagentry or theatrics. No witty dialogue, no colorful costume, or seemingly any costume. It's… strange, actually.

As the grenade goes off, Ford's eyes snap to the launcher. And the other thugs. His speed would let him outpace them… but the random gunfire would be another issue entirely. He needed to disorient them first. Racing at his peak speed, Ford dashed behind one of the cars that had arrived and delivered a mighty kick, sending it flipping onto it's back and towards the Black Rose assailants, before racing for the cover of a nearby alleyway.

It was Gotham. There was always an alley to hide in.

Chuckling.

It belongs to Jack Russell — just a guy in jeans and a coat, talking on his cellphone — as he heads straight into the middle of the firefight. It was hard /not/ to miss it, and curiosity has gotten the better of him. Golden eyes gleam brightly as he slows his pace to get a better look around himself; it would appear he does not seem to fear the bullets flying in all directions, or the fact that he is awfully close to those Black Rose gang-members. "…tell him th' deal was fer 20. Not a cent less, an' one other thing — aw, shit. Why'd it hafta be Black Rose — ?"

Then the grenade goes off.

Wincing in pain, the scion of the Russoff line drops his phone — it's just a burner — and clutches at his ears. Despite the pain, he watches the car get flipped over… and reacts.

One moment he is standing on the street — the next, he is landing upon a rooftop from a leap straight upward.

"Aw, ya gotta be kiddin' me!"

"A trap? Oh, you give me too much credit Mister Hood! This little meeting was inevitable. Sebastian has /always/ wanted what I have! Fate! That is what tonight is! I simply gave a tiny push in the right direction to hasten the inevitable." Then, the woman actually winks at Red, playful amidst destruction.

Down goes the Grenade Launcher wielding Black Rose, but it's just as swiftly picked up by another thug. A quick aim, and there's a nicely placed shot! A grenade flies straight for Red Hood's car!

And then, Ford kicks a bloody car over. The Black Roses are understandably confused, and they scatter, diving to the ground. The White Roses arc gunfire over, scything down two of them. As Ford dashes for cover? Those two Roses he just kicked a car towards start firing at him!

The sound of a kicked car greets Miss Moreau's ears. "Oh my! Do we have /guests/ this evening!? Come and join this lovely party!" She yells out, grin doubling. Then she's ducking down as Sebastian nearly takes her head off with a nice shot. The man has aim.

Still, despite their skill, another White Rose dies. As much as the pack of Black Roses is losing men at a rapid rate, Moreau's forces are tiny by comparison. Her glee dies on her lips for a moment, and she sighs.

"Too much more of this, and we may have a problem. I suppose I should be slightly serious." Moreau pulls out her black book, opening to a page in the middle. Power gathers around her as she calls to her magic, an unearthly chill surrounding her as she does so.

In drops Jack. Right through a firefight. He leaps from that grenade, and some of the Black Roses pause. "IT'S A MUTIE! KILL IT!" Great. /Racist/ Black Roses. There's gunfire now being poured onto Jack's newfound perch!

Down below, Moreau finally speaks again. "Rise, Komodoria."

In the middle of the field where she'd been dueling, the very air shimmers. First nothing, and then, that feeling of power grows. Fading into existance, a creature devours the space with its sheer bulk. Easily ten foot tall and almost that long, Komodoria was once a komodo dragon. Now, it's an abomination. Bone plates cover it's body, it's head tiny, tail and body long and almost slender if it weren't so tall. Just below it's neck, the creature seems to have almost been hollowed out, or flayed, stone-skin flapping as it takes shape. The creature lets loose with a roar, and then gets on its hind legs.

Teeth. Thousands upon thousands of writhing teeth amidst flesh. The creature slams its toothy underside down upon a nearby group of Black Roses, crushing even as the thing starts to devour anything that gets in that tooth-flesh maw.

Sebastian, the leader of the Black Roses, drops his gun and falls to his knees, horror struck by the thing Moreau has unleashed on his gang.

"You're not paying me enough to get shot," Red Hood points out. As the grenade barrels towards the car he was crouched behind, he leaps off to the side, pulling another pistol and shooting from both hands, John Woo-style. His aim is still pretty impeccable. Maybe he is 'not left-handed'. He's still firing when the creatures start appearing to join the fight. Neverming other people…creatures.

He takes a step back and looks at the things, "Well. That's new."

As Hannah is busy summoning her monstrosity and her White Roses are occupied staying alive, Ford takes the opportunity to try and even the odds. Coming in from behind the White Roses, Ford attempts to slam the heads of two Roses together and knock them out, before dashing to the side and looking at Hannah. "Knock it off and get your heads down!" Ford ordered.

Dashing back towards the park center, Ford ran in front of the great dragon… thing and hurls a rock at it. Less to hurt it and more to gain its attention. "Come on, you king-sized crocodile! Catch me if you can!" Ford moved back a bit, hoping to draw it away from the two gangs as he pointed at Sebastian. "If you asshats value your lives, get out of here! Because if you aren't gone when I finish with this thing, I'm ripping every one of you that's still alive a new backside!"

Bullets ricochet all around Russell at his perch, ripping into his coat and tearing it to shreds in place. They hit him as well, although it really only serves to make him angry.

"Mutie?! I — wha?! I ain' a — aw, ta hell with it." He goes silent for several moments, only to let loose a blood-curdling howl — arms splayed to either side, chest thrust out and snout raised to the sky.

The creature that jumps back down into the thick of things is not human: russet hair from head to toe, lupine features contorted in rage, and clothes hanging off his form in tatters.

Almost instantly, he wrinkles his nose in profound distaste at the scent of…what used to be a komodo dragon once upon a time. Reacting, the wolfman leaps at two of the Black Roses that had been shooting at him, grabs them by the legs and throws them one at a time at the abomination.

"Sssupperrr!!" he snarls.

'You're not paying me enough to get shot'.

Grin. "Then try not to stand in front of bullets!" Is Miss Moreau's very, very helpful advice. Another warm chuckle. Clearly, this woman is insane. But welcome to a supervillain in Gotham City.

Even as she holds her book in one hand, the car around her being traced with gunfire, she chidingly waggles her silver cane at Red Hood.

"Truly, Mister Hood! You should enjoy your work! Life is very, very short, particularly for scum like myself, and mercenaries such as you! For those of us that deal in violence and death, every day we wake up alive is a true blessing! Enjoy tonight! Foes surround you, death is in the air, and the moon hangs high! Beautiful! I will double your pay! Cut loose! Go crazy!" She encourages.

Sebastian finally recovers, and gets out of cover. He's trying to aim a shot at Hannah. He doesn't see Red Hood coming. A bullet goes in and out cleanly through the skull, and he falls. A Black Rose yells.

"Boss! The Boss is dead!"

The White Roses only become more aggressive as the Black Roses start to flee. Many get gunned down, but so too are many on the verge of escape.

Said massive crocodile however, is happy to slam down and crush cars. At least, until Ford gets in the way. Two White Roses are konked out, and even a few of the Whites take his advice. They're on the winning side, after all.

Even if she's linked to the creature, the giant komodo dragon is still an animal. Ford has it's attention, it howls, and the it slowly stomps towards him. Russ throws people at it. One is batted aside with that surprisingly quick tail, and the other? In the mouth. Crunch crunch crunch. Ford has it's attention, truly. It's tail comes for Russell, then it gets up on it's hind legs. It's teethy underside wiggles.

And then, it leans forward, and vomits out a veritable sea of goopy, greyish ichor mixed with various gore from half digested lunches. Several Black Roses are caught up in the sludge that's coming for Russ.

They scream as they begin to melt. The cars caught in the goop are swiftly turning to metallic slag.

Said goop, by extension, is also coming towards Ford.

Doubled pay…and they're messing up Gotham. It's very tempting. "And people think -I'm- crazy…" Red Hood murmurs to himself. It's enough, though, to keep him shooting and trying to stay away from bullets that might be aimed at him. No need to argue that he's already died before and doesn't plan on doing it again, especially around Gojira and some crazy magic Gang-leader.

It's always something in Gotham.

As the vomitous goop begins melting opposing gang members, he whirls around and fires to shoot those poor souls out of their misery. Better than slowly melting to death.

"I ain' got time fer — !"

It's the tail that gets Russell. Denied a chance to finish his sentence, he is inadvertantly spared the 'goop' as Komodoria's tail knocks the wind of out him… and sends him flying into an alley.

*CRASH!*

The noise of hitting a dumpster (and who-knows-what else) down the alley echoes out into the street, followed by a flying dumpster… aimed straight at Komodoria!

Russell leaps back out into the street, then leaps again, carrying himself in Hannah's direction. "MOREAU!" he howls. "I thought I smelled yer handiwork."

He lands not far away, just standing there, chest heaving, maw salivating.

"What gives?"

"Now, now! The term is /eccentric/!" Shoots back Hannah.

Red Hood shoots, people die. The bullets around him turn from thick, to thin, as a majority of the Black Roses finally realize there's nothing left to fight for. Hood even puts several out of their misery. Good on him.

Between Russ and Ford, the distraction of the lumber monster saves several Black Rose lives, even if the gang is effectively ruined. Moreau isn't destined to get her complete massacre, but she still grins, far too pleased with the events of tonight. Still, there's stamina and magic to consider, and Komodoria is heavy on both. That book in her hand closes as the last dregs of the Black Roses flee or die. The monstrosity shimmers and fades back to the bolthole where she keeps it, a bit bloodied thanks to the vigilanties present, but otherwise alive. And well fed.

The book goes into her coat as Russell lands. The White Roses are dragging their dead into cars, and starting to split. "Oh my. Do I have an admirer? 'What gives?'. Simply putting an end to overly ambitious rivals, nothing more. Consider it a night of festivities!" A goon whispers into her ear. She smiles harder.

"…A werewolf? So they are not just rumors…" This is Gotham. The possibility excits more than amazes. Miss Moreau's car door is opened by a thug, and she waves a hand to the werewolf.

"Impressive work tonight. You actually managed to give my pet pause! I could use someone with your…" She hunts for a polite word.

"Particular talents. Care for a ride? Dinner? I feel like celebrating tonight's victory."

An almost girlish giggle. She all but collapses into the back seat, fatigue finally showing. Still, that cane is definitely silver. Not quite a threat, just a warning for the wolf to stay on his best behavior.

Miss Moreau, should Russ join her, is in fact a wonderful host.

Ford Benett gets to deal with the aftermath: bodies, and the few Black Roses that remain.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 License