Walk Like A (Kitty) Egyptian

February 28, 2018:

Miss Moreau targets the Gotham Museum of Natural History for it's recent Egyptian Feline Exhibit. Alice, a Ghost, and Captain Boomerang arrive amidst the heist!

Gotham Museum of Natural History


NPCs: None.



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

Amongst thieves, mages, and especially those that bridge the divide between the two, there's an addage. 'If it's old, it's valuable'. Not always true, but it's a good one to use if you're deciding on targets. And tonight, the White Rose Gang is after something old.

Gotham Museum of Natural History. A frequent target by thieves ranging from idiots all the way to expert heistmasters. And with a new exhibit of ancient Egyptian mummified cats and kittens recently put on display, the security has been upgraded. The two story building has had backup generators installed to power the silent alarms and motion sensitive security cameras in the event of someone knocking out power. There's four guards in total walking a beat, the four main areas on each floor of interest.

It's all on-site security systems too, nothing outside to hack with the exception of the rather dumb alarms, and telephones used by security. Just in case, they've all got cell phones issued by the museum. Difficult, even for experts.

Too bad Moreau is good at bribing people. With floor plans, security details, and one short-on-cash high-on-debt ex-cop John Bob Baker working the cameras. At exactly eleven fourty nine, John Bob switches the 24/7 security cams to the wrong feeds. A neat little line is formed from a maintenance staff entrance in the back, up to the second floor, and to the exhibit for a black-suited, nightvision-wearing woman named Slice. The short, pale little psychopath with her four machetes strapped on her has just ducked into said maintenance access. The patrols are not quite there yet. Meanwhile, one of the Roses' electrical experts is waiting for the time to cut the main power.

Beneath the building, right under the power generators, Miss Moreau is trying to ignore the scent of old sewer as she sips a glass of wine and waits. A woman with a very large shotgun is playing overwatch with nightvision, smoking a cigarette. Moreau is running her hands over her Tome in anticipation.

It's cramped though, thanks to the gigantic serpent Shirohebi. It's tail, now sporting an impressively sharp pair of oscillating bone cutters, is ready for her job. Every now and then, slick lubricant splatters onto the bone cutters.

"Patience, patience Shiro! Soon enough."

What other heroes and villains await in the dark?


Spurred on by recent events a new form has been making the rounds of the Gotham streets. Small and garbed in a suit that molds with the shadows in it's deep purple and black shifting pattern. While she hadn't made much loud impact, there had been fewer roberies and assaults at least since she had taken back to playing 'hero'.

Tonight she stands on the roof of the Natural Museum, listening to the police feed. Her daughter's precognition was develloping every day. The young girl had told her she would be needed at the museum tonight. Why? She had no clue, but she was here and waiting with all her toys.

Special canisters line her belt, filled with the same stuff the army uses to mark targets with smoke, they carried an additional punch in her hands. A touch and the contents would change to any chemical gas known to man. On her back was what looked like a water gun. It had a large tank, but it was made of a dark metal. All of it. Glass vials wrapped an 'X' across her chest on a bolero. And lastly the modified paintguns pistols at her hips. Tonight the pellets were filled with pepper spray. A nasty surprise for anyone she hits with them.


And so Alice waits for whatever is going to happen to happen.


This modern age and its high-tech security were never made to secure against those that were no longer physically present on this earth. No cameras can capture his presence. No alarm is triggered by his movement. No doors can keep him out. It makes thievery almost painfully easy, but the real challenge always comes in who might be alerted to the attempt, as being unnoticed only goes so far until you're tangling with the tangible.

And old artifacts made of gold or encrusted with jewels are quite tangible.

No footsteps echo upon the polished floors, but a lone figure walks along as though on a private tour of the museum's halls, dressed in white dress clothes better dated to the late nineteenth century from the tophat to the flowing cloak, tailed coat, and stirrup pants. A monocle floats where the features of a face should be but are otherwise entirely absent, and a cane is carried in gloved hand.

"Now, what lovelies do these halls of history hold~" he muses.


It took Owen days to track down his mysterious benefactor. Who would rescue him from the horrors of a public Gotham hospital and set him up in a private fancy pants one? He had assumed it was Stark or maybe even Rand, but after making his rounds and realizing that they knew nothing about the attack he started doing some digging. Eventually he was able to sweet talk some nurse with a very shaky grasp of HIPAA into revealing who was picking up his tab. From there finding the Walker mansion and scoping it out became a hobby of Owen's. And since it was a stakeout, that gave Owen a legitimate reason to drink. Okay fine, he hasn't thought about needing a legitimate reason to drink in years. But his drinking was interrupted when he noticed a cape slipping out into the night.

"Spoiler? No.. that's not a sparkle batling."

Owen managed to trail Alice in her costumed identity to the city and set himself up on a rooftop across the way. He has his tactical gear on for surveillance, special goggles, no boomerang scarf or line of boomerangs up his chest. He silently curses the fact that he can't light up a cigarette without drawing her attention. And all his beer had to be left back outside the mansion. Oh well, he's heroing, of course all the fun gets sucked out of it.


Truly, Alice's daughter is prescient, because not long after she's gotten to the rooftop? Power suddenly goes out for the entire building. Now, there's about a minute and a half lag time between power outages and generators cutting on. Not an unusual occurance, so automatic alarms don't go off unless something is disturbed. A city council measure about keeping GCPD costs down in a city over-run with crime. Could be nothing!

No one's on the roof, but this is Gotham. And that maintenance access door is slightly ajar too! How odd!

Now in the dark, Slice has made it up to the second story stairs door. She quietly peeks it open, flips down her nightvision, and /looks/. One security guard is just creeping past, on edge thanks to the sudden power loss. Turned away from the door. Like a hunting lion in the dark, she pounces. The guard goes down, is dragged into the stairwell and his flashlight clicked off. Slice licks off some of the blood and suppresses a giggle.

Meanwhile, one floor below, the Gentlemanliest Ghost will find a pair of panicked security guards, new on the job, almost huddling. "Wh…what were we supposed to do? Perimeter check right?"

"Yeah! Uh, you first?" "Me!?"

One rounds to start said perimeter check. A few steps into the saber tooth cat exhibition that the dear Ghost has found himself in (one exhibit away from ancient sumerian jewelry one might add!), and then light is flashed.

"Who's there!?" Goes the security guard, thumbing for his gun as he flashes towards the unearthly thief!

Meanwhile, Owen gets an interesting view of things from a building away. Slice was fairly stealthy towards that maintenance access, and bad angle too. What was /less/ stealthy was the engineering Rose sneaking to cut the main power. Of course, there's Alice too, so who knows which might prove the juicier target for Captain Boomerang!

Down in the sewers, acid and bone-saw carve into concrete quickly beneath secondary generators. Miss Moreau and her bodyguard stay over a bend away to avoid any debris /or/ eventual blowback from gravity. Earplugs all around, comms go silent as this part takes places.

Moreau can only rely on her dear Pack to know their jobs. She sweats, not for herself, but for them.


"Ah. That would be it," Alice says to herself, no sounds escaping her helmet. Then she is moving. A small and fast streak pumped with soldier serum for the unknown within. That door ajar? Alice is through it and into the museum proper.

Down stairs and likely to another locked door. But it won't remain that way long. A vial of water is pulled from the bolero and she pulls the top off, dipping her finger in before tossing it at the bolt and lock. Ferric acid quickly eats away the lock and the door pops open.

Interior door nudged open she slowly and stealthily made her way into the museum. It actually wasn't that unfamiliar to her. She had been earlier when the museum was open. Better to know where everything was than trying to find the escape right away.


Curious. As lights go out, the Ghost tilts his head, pausing in his walk. "Hmm. Interesting." Seems like this won't be so quiet a venture after all.

Hearing footsteps and wild beams of light from just ahead, he waits until the security guard enters the room, watching as the light washes over the skeletal reconstruction of a large fanged feline from a time even more ancient than his own. The light fades his own appearance out just a touch when it's directed at him.

"Here now, no cause for alarm. I'm not t'blame for this- merely admiring things without th' crowds!" he reassures, his tone bearing an English accent tending north. Oh, but he sees the man fumbling for his gun, and he can well expect what might happen next. It's a shame, really. "Wouldn't do that if I were ye', lad."


And the powers out. Well, that's probably not good. It's Gotham, so it could be the result of some rando hero-villain scuffle somewhere, but Owen can see the the thief by the power supply with the toolkit. It's the same toolkit he would use to cut the power before a job. He starts scoping out the entire museum, continually returning his vision back to Alice, Sensation if he knew the name. Taking a closer look at Rose, his heart sinks. Crap. Owen recognizes her from his recent run in with the White Rose Gang. So here's a gang he just agreed to ally with busting in.. somewhere… with a probable hero that he owes a favor and needs some answers standing on the roof with a super soaker.

"This is fine. Wait… where are we?"

And as it dawns on Owen that this is the Natural History museum, a cold shudder runs down his spine. That means one of three things. One, there could be a priceless artifact in there to steal. Two, this could be one of those kitchy 'themed' jobs that Gotham hoods just love. Three, it could be both those things.

"Damn it Gotham. Why? Why are we so fucked up? Oh shit.. where did she go?"

Owen sees the swinging door on the roof of the museum and he has little choice but to follow now. He replaces his goggles with a mask. It's a nifty little domino design that casts a visible illusion making him almost impossible to recognize and blurs his face from electronic recognition. It's not flawless, but it works okay. With that bit of preparation done, he speed blurs across the roof and leaps to the roof of the museum, rolling to a stop. Dusting himself off he quietly makes his way in after Alice.


Alice and Slice are roughly on the opposite ends of the second floor, in total. Therefore Alice doesn't run into a dumped corpse on her descent, but is a bit farther to the actual prize tonight. There's two valuable bits on the second floor: a scroll said to be a holy text of one of the agnostic religions put down by the Council of Nicea, and the other being the Egyptian Kitty Display. Alice is nearer the scroll, and Slice is creeping closer to the Egyptian one. A suitcase is pulled off of Slice's back, and opened. She waits. Not yet.

"Power out! Securing perimeter! John? John, respond!" Is the guard nearing Alice, flashlight pricking into the darkness.

The Gentlespecter's guard pauses, and very almost seems to see sense. Except for how his flashlight peers onto him, and all but cuts through him. "GET ON THE GROU…wha?"

It's almost like the Ghost has frightened him into submission! It would truly be a shame that the English baring Ghost would be fired upon. Truly.

Which is exactly what happens, because welcome to Gotham. Fire on the unknown. Blap blap blap! Even the corrupt guard can't overlook that. He's fumbling for auxiliary security, but it's /slow/. By design, thanks to the Rose's meddling.

Owen similarly would get Alice's track in: a single Guard confused, yelling, but not noticing Alice. Seems Sensation has done her job.

Down below, Shirohebi has neatly cut out two thirds of the underground power generator system that is threatening to pop on. Enough so that the entire building briefly shudders as vague structural integrity is compromised.

Could it just be a simple, minor quake?


Alice frowns as the building jolts and holds stock still in the dark. Among all the displays her dark armored and helmeted form can blend in if people don't look too hard. Inside she can see perfectly, the helmet displaying in night-vision for now. Of course the problem with security is they get in the way.

So she waits for the guard to pass and on silent feet moves behind him. A touch is all it takes. A finger placed against the back of the neck to send a man to the floor unconscious. Of course she could do other things, but leaving him unconscious and near the exit to the roof means he won't get hurt. And if her daughter sent her, someone was going to get hurt.

Silent as a shadow she creeps deeper into the museum. As she moves she scrolls through her various frequencies, the helmet filtering through an responding to eye movement commants "Shit…what are they after," She murmers to herself. Then the gun goes off and she is moving.

Moving with a surety of someone who can never forget. And who has been here before. She knows how to get downstairs to where ghost and guard are having their 6th Sense style encounter.


Craddock sighs as shots are fired. As anticipated, they go right through him. "I warned ye," he says, moving a hand to brush himself off, as though the attempted gunfire had the chance to mar anything of his pristine whites. Again he pauses as the structure around them rumbles briefly. Someone is certianly busy somewhere.

"Now, I'm feelin' generous this eve," he says, returning his attention towards the shaken guard. "Ye go about yer business, and I won't have to use 'brute' force as ye seem so inclined to." Holding up a gloved hand, he splays his fingers before curling them around the grip of a very real flintlock pistol that appears in his grasp. A thumb cocks the hammer with a satisfying click. "Oh, and I assure ye, it will hurt."


Crap! Owen hears the gunfire from the floor below and yet he knows that Alice who he should be 'helping' is on this one. He slowly comes around the corner in time to see her knock out a guard. She is a hero right? … Probably. He decides that she looks like she can handle herself.. wait? Slowly he recognizes the armor from the fight at Starks. Oh yea, she'll be fine. He turns and makes his way down the steps to find where the gunfire is coming from.

Coming down the hallway of the lower floor, it's rather easy to follow the only sounds in the mostly empty building. Owen comes upon the scene with Craddock and the shaky guards. What? He tries to take in the scene but can't help himself from blurting out.

"Craddock? You spooky no face mother fucker, what are /you/ doing here?"

Good plan Owen. He doesn't have a weapon out, and he's probably just distracted the poor scared guard and made himself a target. But Craddock isn't a part of the White Rose Gang and now Owen is all confused about what the hell he's doing here. He does at least have the good sense to touch his mask and turn it off so Gentleman Ghost can get a look at him. "It's Captain Boomerang. I'm .. confused." And maybe a little drunk, but Craddock won't be surprised by that.


Alice's guard falls easily down to sleep, and is pulled to the exit. A far nicer face to Slice's victim! But she proves the true hero, going for where victims might be claimed! Meanwhile, Slice waits, and then that brief moment between generator and power cut is found. Drawing two machetes, she slashes through glass expertly, backblast scattered around or in front of her. Then she is stuffing long dead kitty corpses into a suitcase. Snap. Shut. Then she huddles to the floor, awaiting the plan.

Gun and flashlight drop at once. There's an old flintlock aimed at his head, but the Guard knows danger when he sees it. Unearthly danger. He's tough, though, a proper Gothamite. Even defenseless, as the building shudders, he sucks in and downs a breath and spit. Sweating, he smiles.

"Yeah. I'd like to do that. So, uh. Let's be pals okay, Mister Spectre? Swear. This job don't pay me enough!" He's smiling. And laughing, growing a bit unhinged at the end. He's backing off /slowly/!

And then pauses. As Captain Boomerang makes his appearance, and Roses, and…yeah, he's super confused.

"You know this Ghostface?" Comes the guard, peeking at Owen suddenly. It's a glimpse of normalcy, a Mask. Nope, no Roses right here.

Then there's the sound of a sub-basement falling out, thousands of pounds of pure concrete and generator metal crashing into sewers, and Miss Moreau flips pages as Snipe holds her to a dirty floor. Her words are overtaken as her head smashes to the ground by the sheer noise.

Police and Emergency Response are on their way, as chaos ensues.


Slice, egyptian kitties in briefcase, rushes to the now shattered second story window, and pitches herself out. Just in time, as shadowy magic flares and a gigantic bird will find the machete-wielding thief safe-ish. With a broken arm, but as it goes.

The rest of the building rumbles dangerously.


The whole building shudders and Alice pauses. Owen makes his presence known and she recognizes him. She needn't think back, it is clear as the first time she saw him a few weeks back. She didn't get his name then and it hardly matters now. "Get out, I recognize that sound. Building's going to come down!" The speaker broadcasts the order loudly as she turns to head back up the stairs.

There is an unconscious guard she needs to get to safety. Though she is small she moves with amazing rapidity. So she has a view of Slice flying out of a window and she frowns. Taking one of the vials at her belt she thumbs the top and then hurls it.

Strength enhanced by chemicals, decades of combat practice and accuracy training, the vial is sent spinning across the distance. Aiming for the fleeing thief. The water inside now laced with a radioatice isoptope that could be tracked with the proper equipment. Which she has. Not waiting to see if it hits she spins, heading along shaking halls for the fallen guard.


"See now? We can be reasonable. Now, off with y-"

The white-clad Ghost pauses at the sound of his name, sighing. His unseen head turns so the monocle is angled over his shoulder as he casts a glance back at the new interruption. "Could ask ye the same, Captain. Here I was, havin' a stroll through this lovely menagerie of th' old and pillaged, and this fellow decides t'shoot me! The lack of manners in this day an' age ne'er ceases t'amaze me." He snorts, then wiggles the pistol as the guard speaks up, monocle and hat swiveling back towards him.

"Still here, lad? Can't say I didn't warn ye-" And again the building begins to shift, the Gentleman Ghost tensing as he jerks a look around. "Now that I have no idea as to what's going on. This place seems quite popular tonight!"


Alice's warning to Owen before he departed for another floor is met with nothing more than a shrug. She might recognize the sound as bad news, but Owen just trusts to his terrible luck that he's been in worse situations before. Upon finding Craddock though, he realizes that the situation is more complicated than just the one gang boosting something from the museum. Oh well, not his worry.

"Why the hell do you care? He can't hurt you. You are so creepy."

Owen doesn't seem to have much of a worry about running into Gentleman Ghost, after all there is a mutual understanding amongst some thieves, if not honor. And Owen has no intention whatsoever of stopping the … man? ghost? man-ghost. When the building shakes though, something begins to niggle at Owen's consciousness. He should save the guard. Stupid guard isn't at fault for whatever is happening.

"Fine" Owen says to no one in particular. He pulls a dagger and throws it at the window, shattering it. He then proceeds to speed burst, grabbing the guard and hoisting him up on his shoulders and running down the building. Ever since his little adventure with Zoom running across the city, Owen has found it easier to pull of a few of the Flash's vertical running tricks, if only for a second or two at a time. So hopefully he can deposit the guard out on the street and assess the situation, flicking his mask back on just in case.


Slice almost looks comfy on Alcor, the absolutely oversized once-raven that Moreau had summoned. Mostly to plan. Not entirely, else Slice would be dealing with /two/ hands rather than one broken and another operational. Only animal instinct that seems to draw the Roses together has Slice doing anything about that tossed vial. Most of it ends up coating her broken arm. She waits for…acid, pain, anything! Nothing? Teeth grit. Isotope water drips to…well, feathers.

Just a few, the track will be faint but important for Alice if she wants to track the Roses. One of very few, she has evidence on the elusive gang.

Would be more, but green eyes peek. A hand rises. "For the Pack I howl!" Yells Slice, and then blood flies. Given the Bats, she can't be too careful. An arm is a small price to pay.

The guard may as well be feathers in Alice's grasp. Both hit the ground, and are gone long before the museum threatens to fall in on itself! A life saved, and traction gained!

Mister Guard is truly Gotham Stuff, as even amidst Boomerang and Ghost, he's all about scowling right now! "Hey, listen, I'm not abandoning a job I signed up for! I mean, entirely, okay!? You deserved it! Ever heard of places being off limi…"

Yup, buildings dropping out, not paid enough. Said guard goes running screaming out. It's too much, along with Ghostly Dudes!

Namely screaming out through the window that Owen just opened up. Athletic guy, this guard. Guard of the year, perhaps, definitely the only one they'll rehire after this debacle. Mostly thanks to Owen grabbing him and shoving him out of the building at the last second thanks to the man hauling him up and super-speeding him out of the building! With but a single death to this job?

The heroes have gained a victory. The museum is in dire need of structural rebuilding…but a vast majority of the exhibits are in one piece. Casualties are relatively light.

And as a one-armed Slice is deposited at the Library, Alcor fading to mere magic a block or two away, Alice has a vague place to search in the depths of the worst of East End. Down below?

Moreau and Snipe limp away, bloody, but laughing as yet more of Gotham's 'normalcy' is disrupted.

May the beastly heart of the city pound deeper.


Alice sets the unconscious guard on the pavement across the street from the museum. Another brush and he is instantly awake and confused. But it is then the building chooses to rumble and dust flies a bit. "Run," Says the garbled English accent over her helmets speakers. Then she turns to survey the area and her eyes fall on Owen.

The woman had caught him speeding out the window, her herlmets sensors flaring a warning at super speed. That was a new thing since Zoom. It wouldn't give her much to work with if the banana speedster came again, but one or two seconds meant a lot.

Instead she moves quickly across the street to him with a pistol drawn and not quite aimed at him. "Are you with Zoom?" She asks worriedly. He didn't attack her, but he did come in behind her. He flew past her heading down the stairs after all and out that window. And she couldn't be too careful right now.


"I can see that speaking'o manners is entirely lost upon ye," the Ghost mutters, watching as Owen decides to play at being a hero. Well, at least that puts that pesky guard out of the way. He sighs as the building continues to shudder around them, banishing his pistol from his hand.

"So much for subtlety. Bess! Come- I'll not be thwarted again so soon."

At his call an echoing neigh resounds throughout the hall, and a ghostly steed appears wreathed in phantom flames. Craddock leaps into the saddle, grabbing the reins as he sets Bess charging through the shifting hall. At least in all the commotion who's to notice a few jewels going amiss?


It would hardly be the first time that someone accused Owen of being without manners. But really, how many of Craddock's fellow criminals have anything even remotely like high standards of etiquette. Owen can't even spell etiquette.

outside on the street, Owen makes sure that the guard is clear of the building, despite his protests. "Oh shut up you fat ass. The building's going down, I saved you. You're fucking welcome." The guard obviously doesn't agree and starts to argue with Owen, saying that he's going to arrest him and that Owen is obviously helping the thieves, so Owen does the responsible thing. He punches the man repeatedly until he's knocked out. Like a hero.

WHen Sensation comes towards him with a gun drawn, Owen puts a gloved hand out and his dagger from earlier returns to him. Like a boomerang! He holds it pointing at her. "Really? From you? That's fuckin' rich. And as much as I'd love to sort this out. I don't plan on gettin' arrested tonight. We'll chat soon Ms. Walker." Owen is sure to drop her actual name to let her know that he can find her. Sure, she knows his name but he's much harder to find for a wide variety of reasons, all of them purposeful. With a breeze, he's gone, not far but far enough to make a cool dramatic exit and to finally light up that cigarette.


"God damn speedsters!" Alice gripes, her speaker still on, as she turns in the vague direction he went. But the sensors lose him, still not up to snuff for tracking super speed. "FUCK!" She shouts and kicks at the wheel of a car, sending it scooting a few inches. Then she puts the enhaced strength to use.

The bloodied guard is taken in the direction of the approaching sirens. She hates being a hero, but she has no choice. It's better than being a villain, though. "This has just been a hell of a month."

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