Gotham: A New Generation (IC)

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

“Count on it,” the girl replied coldly. Layla got back on her bike and headed after the location the man had mentioned. No cops, no friends. She'd be on her own. She knew very well it was a trap but who cared? There was a lady’s life on the line. Layla felt she was more than capable of doing it by herself. She had to at least believe she could.

Driving through the opened gate and into the dark loading dock, Layla dismounted her bike and killed the engine. She stepped in a puddle on her way inside the dimly lit warehouse, taking out her phone and turning on its flashlight feature to guide her through the boxes. She did as the man had told her and turned right when she needed to, entering the lift that would take her to the second floor.

Holding the baton against her arm by its side handle, Layla felt prepared. As the doors opened to reveal the second floor, she didn’t feel afraid of what lay ahead.

[United States of Brainy]

The Warehouse

A twilight dimness shrouded the second floor. The little light managing to creep through the dirty windows didn’t do much to dispel the gloom. Shapes could be made out but no details. The floor appeared to be mostly empty, open space, but a bunch of dark shapes clustered at the opposite end. Or rather, the vague impression of dark shapes. The lack of light made it impossible to tell for sure. Except for the scurrying of rats, all was quiet.

Then…the sharp sound of clapping hands broke the silence. Each slow clap loud as a cymbal crash. “And she arrives…” a man’s voice declared. The overhead fluorescents snapped on. Only half of them though. Bathing the space in a sickly, yellowish glow.

He stood at the far end. Wearing an Armani suit. Maybe 5’10”, 5’11”. In his late-twenties. Handsome in a sleazy sorta way. By his side, the woman sat slumped in a chair. Her hands bound behind her, her face completely covered by a hood. One knee was heavily bandaged, soaked through with what appeared to be blood. Surrounding them were the three other hoods from the SUV, all wearing similar suits.

“I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced,” the man chuckled. “I’m Edgar. My associates and I…” he gestured at the others, “we call ourselves ‘The Morticians’. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think? And you are…Layla Cromley. Adopted daughter of James Cromley, esteemed politician and pillar of the community. And quite beautiful, I might add.” He noted the baton in her hand. "Beautiful...and fierce. Just my kind of woman."

Edgar smiled, his charming, sleazy smile. “Now Layla, did you bring what I asked?”

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

Several words came to mind when she regarded the man. Disgusting was near the top. No, it wasn’t in the physical sense. He was indeed rather handsome. It was the fact he’d go so far as to injure an innocent woman just to get the information on the small little device in Layla's fingers. She raised the item in question high enough that he’d be able to see it, then took a few steps forward.

“What’s on this thing that’s so important you’d kill just to get it?” She asked, though she already knew the answer. Incriminating evidence that Arthur Orwell wouldn’t want her to leak to the public. That still left some questions unanswered. How did Edgar know so much about her? It wasn’t like she was on the front page, save for one or two times in the past. And she certainly wasn’t a social butterfly at her father's parties. Unless... No, she thought sternly, she’d shaken at least a hundred hands in the past week, and Edgar couldn’t possibly have been at the gala the night Batgirl called her. Could he?

Well versed in the art of treachery, she knew full well how these creeps planned to do things. Layla gestured to the girl with the baton. “Let her go, I give you the flash drive.” It was a little dangerous, playing it the way she was. For a precaution, she added with a theatrical tone, “my father will have you all arrested and put away forever for this!”

[United States of Brainy]

The Warehouse

Layla Cromley

Well versed in the art of treachery, she knew full well how these creeps planned to do things. Layla gestured to the girl with the baton. “Let her go, I give you the flash drive.” It was a little dangerous, playing it the way she was. For a precaution, she added with a theatrical tone, “my father will have you all arrested and put away forever for this!”

They all laughed. “Oh, Layla,” Edgar teased when his laughter subsided. He tsk-tsked. “Arresting us? But how will he know?” He smiled slyly. “The only way he’ll know is if you tell him…and I don’t think you’re going to be in any position to do that.”

Behind the girl, the lift doors opened and three more goons barreled out. Edgar smirked. “No, no, I don’t think you’ll be going anywhere. As far as what’s on the flash drive, of course we know. Maybe our esteemed Mr. Crowley isn’t as clean as he seems. Why else would his loving daughter run so recklessly into danger? If not to save him from whatever vile secrets are contained on that little bitty flash drive. It warms my heart thinking how much you must care about your father to risk your life like that."

Edgar sighed with regret. “I wish we could talk more but I’m afraid I must put an end to our pleasant little chat. The boys are getting restless.” They all had weapons. The three surrounding Edgar had a mix of brass knuckles, baseball bats and nunchunks. The big guy of the group, 6”6”, 250lbs pounds of all muscle, simply cracked his huge fisted knuckles. As for the trio that had exited the elevator, they too had an assortment of weapons- escrima sticks, billy clubs and truncheons. Meanwhile, their leader, Edgar, calmly pulled out a 9mm Beretta and pointed it at their captive’s head. Edgar locked his gaze on Layla and his eyes narrowed. “Take her,” he ordered.

[Lic]

Tim Drake/Red Robin
Tim jumped awake from his light slumber against the cold prison wall. The sharp odor of bad breath and warm breathing on Tim’s face had woken him. His eyes fluttered open to find the traumatizing sight of Victor Zsasz leaning close to him, ogling at him with wide eyes laced with hysteria. Tim grabbed the serial killer by the throat and threw him across the room. Zsasz responded with more maniacal laughter.

“Don’t worry, Timothy; I prefer to take my prey awake,” he said in his painfully irritating voice. Tim glowered at Zsasz, chewing his nails and staring at the floor to pass the time. He suddenly looked up to see a guard traipsing by the prison cell. Tim rattled on the bars.

“Hey. Hey!” Tim tried to get the officer’s attention. The guard passively turned towards Tim. “Hey, can I get my phone call please?” The guard shrugged and walked off. He returned later with another prison guard, taking Tim to a camera-secured room with an old-fashioned telephone placed smack in the center of a rectangular grey table. Tim sat down, and was informed by the guard that he had five minutes to talk. Tim had thought carefully about who he should call. His first line of support was Alfred, but Tim had doubts he would respond. If they’d arrested Tim, he was quite certain that Alfred had been taken in as well. His next option was always Stephanie, but Tim suspected the same fate had befallen her. And Bane had broken into Wayne Manor...worse things could have happened.

Trying to ignore the awful thoughts in his mind, Tim settled on calling his option number 3: Babs. He dialed her number and waited. But there was no response. The guard advanced towards him. “Ok buddy, that’s time.” Tim looked up at the officer and pressed his hands together pleadingly.

“Please, sir. No one responded. I haven’t got my one call.” The office rolled his eyes and allowed Tim to continue. Tim considered calling Bruce, but that would just be another waste. He was too busy to answer any of Tim’s calls these days. Frustrated, Tim grudgingly went to option number four: Jason. He dialed in his number, unsure of whether he’d respond.

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

“I’m not doing this for him!” She shouted at Edgar. Her blood turned to ice as she realized just what she was going up against.

“Six against one,” Layla got into a combat stance. “Hardly a fair fight.” She usually went with two of these batons, but she wasn’t out of practice with one. In fact, she was probably better with the weapon than most of the men here. At least, that’s what she hoped. Layla glanced behind her, taking a brief inventory of all the men present. She turned to meet the incoming threat, ducking under a swing from the thug wielding a nightstick. She retaliated by swinging at his knee from behind, then brought her baton up against his chin in a strike that she figured would leave him down for the count.

That did of course leave the other two that had exited the lift. The one wielding the escrima sticks aimed a downward strike with both of the weapons. Layla angled the baton against her arm and moved it to meet the attack, easily blocking. She kicked the man in the stomach, sending him staggering backwards.

Then there was the one wielding the truncheon. Layla hadn’t been ready for him. He came at her from behind, grabbing her. Layla was quick to react. She tucked her legs together, pressing them down against the floor, then sprung up in an explosive motion. She wrenched herself from the thug's grasp, doing a handspring over his shoulders.

Once the girl landed, she looked at the other thugs. “Is that the best you got?” She panted. While she knew this was not the best they could do, taunting them would hopefully make them frustrated enough to make some kind of mistake. That, and it made Layla feel the slightest bit more confident.

[Farilexasm]

Red Hood/Jason Todd
Bang! Jason had been having a small chat with a banker friend of his when a small armed group of thieves shot through the front door, intending to rob the bank. It was their lucky day: they were robbing The Red Hood’s bank. They were definitely the new kids in town.

“Everybody freeze, don’t move a muscle!” One of the robber pipsqueaks yelled; he walked over to the front desk, demanding to get access to the vaults. He threateningly raised his gun. Of course, Jason was way faster with a weapon than any of these morons. In a flash, Jason put his hand to his holster and pulled out his ridiculously long 28 mm revolver, aiming it at the leader and shooting his brains out. The four other goons turned on Jason, but he’d shot them all dead before they knew it.

“Well, I must be going, Mr. Reynolds,” Jason said to his banker boy. He turned to the janitor cowering in the corner. Jason tossed a 50 buck tip at the kid. “Clean it up for me, will ya?” Jason then left through the revolving doors of the bank as if nothing ever happened.

That’s when the iPhone X in his pocket started buzzing. Jason pulled it out. It was a No Caller ID number. He normally wouldn’t attend to such a thing, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Who knew his number?

“Yes? Red Hood speaking. Congratulations, you’ve found my contact.”

[Lic]

Red Hood/Jason Todd
Bang! Jason had been having a small chat with a banker friend of his when a small armed group of thieves shot through the front door, intending to rob the bank. It was their lucky day: they were robbing The Red Hood’s bank. They were definitely the new kids in town.

“Everybody freeze, don’t move a muscle!” One of the robber pipsqueaks yelled; he walked over to the front desk, demanding to get access to the vaults. He threateningly raised his gun. Of course, Jason was way faster with a weapon than any of these morons. In a flash, Jason put his hand to his holster and pulled out his ridiculously long 28 mm revolver, aiming it at the leader and shooting his brains out. The four other goons turned on Jason, but he’d shot them all dead before they knew it.

“Well, I must be going, Mr. Reynolds,” Jason said to his banker boy. He turned to the janitor cowering in the corner. Jason tossed a 50 buck tip at the kid. “Clean it up for me, will ya?” Jason then left through the revolving doors of the bank as if nothing ever happened.

That’s when the iPhone X in his pocket started buzzing. Jason pulled it out. It was a No Caller ID number. He normally wouldn’t attend to such a thing, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. Who knew his number?

“Yes? Red Hood speaking. Congratulations, you’ve found my contact.”

“Jason.” Tim said it in a cold voice. It was the first time he was talking to Jason in almost two years. “Jason, I need your help. I’ve been locked up. In Blackgate. Now, I need you to walk up here today and tell these folks really nicely that I’m innocent and to let me out. Kapish? You scratch my back now, and I let your shipment come in through the docks without my friends on the outside interfering.” Tim really hoped that Jason would get the hint.

[United States of Brainy]

The Warehouse

Layla Cromley

Once the girl landed, she looked at the other thugs. “Is that the best you got?” She panted. While she knew this was not the best they could do, taunting them would hopefully make them frustrated enough to make some kind of mistake. That, and it made Layla feel the slightest bit more confident.

Just like that, she had taken down half their number. With a roar, the big gorilla of the group charged, throwing haymakers left and right. He had been a boxer (or so he said) but his punches were sloppy, all over the place. Maybe because of anger or maybe because he just didn't know how to fight. Not that he needed to, with his big fists all he had to do was land a single hit and it was game over. But against such a small, fast-moving target as this girl, that was easier said than done.

Of course, he didn't have to do it alone. Baseball bat-wielding dude tried to sneak up from behind, swinging down and low. Hoping to connect with the back of the girl's legs. Send her to her knees so that he could grand-slam her head. Meanwhile, 'Nunchucks" did a backflip over the fighters, biding his time. Obviously, this guy knew his kung-fu. He would just wait it out until he could go against the girl one-on-one. He swung his 'chunks over and under his arm, getting ready or just showing off.

[Farilexasm]

“Jason.” Tim said it in a cold voice. It was the first time he was talking to Jason in almost two years. “Jason, I need your help. I’ve been locked up. In Blackgate. Now, I need you to walk up here today and tell these folks really nicely that I’m innocent and to let me out. Kapish? You scratch my back now, and I let your shipment come in through the docks without my friends on the outside interfering.” Tim really hoped that Jason would get the hint.

Jason got the drift. Tim Drake was begging Jason to break him out of jail. Jason snickered. “As if your superfriends ever stop me anyway.” Although Tim had a point. Jason didn’t have any pawns in City Hall like the Penguin; neither did he have any people within the GCPD like Falcone. Unlike those mob bosses, Jason didn’t believe in systemic corruption and intereferencs in the administrative system. No, Jason’s gang was pretty much on its own. He could use the help to let his illegal weapons trade operate.

“Ok, Robin. I’ll walk over to Blackgate to help ya out, and we’ll settle terms later. ’Mmkay?” Jason put the phone down as his car slowed to a halt outside the secret antihero base of the Followers of the Hood, separate from his secret evil mob base of the Red Hood Gang. Jason walked inside, staring at the array of antiheroes who would accompany him for this mission.

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

While the charging behemoth was quite the spectacle, Layla saw the bat wielding guy coming too late. She tried to leap up to avoid the strike to the back of her knee, but the blow clipped her legs. Layla fell down against the concrete, now aware of a dull stinging kind of ache that pulsated painfully where the hit had landed. As the thug raised the bat to strike her, she had a better timing. Layla rolled away just before the bat hit the ground. She got up and proceeded to grab the bat, keeping the swinging brute in her peripheral vision.

The bat's owner slammed a fist into Layla's face, leaving her slightly dizzy. It wasn’t too powerful, as he was intently focused on winning the struggle over his weapon. Layla shook it off, now quite pissed. She waited for one second, then two, then swung the bat and the man attached right into the big thug's strike. There was a sickening cracking noise as the knuckles connected with his torso, sending poor Babe Ruth sprawling against the ground.

While the boxer realized his mistake, Layla took advantage of this. She took the bat up in her hands, took a moment to reel it back, then swung right at the boxer's head. The blow hit and sent the receiver staggering. She wasted no time, raising it up and bringing it down on his head as if it were piece of wood and she was intent on cutting it.

That only left Bruce Lee— she had no regrets with the names. Layla grabbed her baton and readied herself to fight him, as he seemed so desperate to do.

[United States of Brainy]

The Warehouse

Layla Cromley

That only left Bruce Lee— she had no regrets with the names. Layla grabbed her baton and readied herself to fight him, as he seemed so desperate to do.

The guy grinned and then started stomping his way toward her, swinging his chucks across his chest. He seemed all set to attack her from the front but when he came within three feet of her, he sprang into the air, did a mid-air twist, whipping his nunchucks around her neck! The nunchuck chain wrapped around her throat, the guy landing in a crouch behind the girl. He pulled the chain taut, yanking the girl by the neck, causing her to arch backwards, and he slammed her to the floor.

Fast as a snake, he flipped around, twisting the chain and strangling her as Edgar sauntered up, a sly grin on his face. Smirking, he knelt down and plucked the flash drive out of the pocket of Layla’s hoodie as ‘Bruce’ continued to choke her from behind. “Poor Layla,” he mocked. “I should let him suffocate you, you know. Watch you claw at your throat and your eyes bulge for that last bit of air that’ll never come. But don’t worry, babe, today’s your lucky day” Edgar pointed his gun at Layla’s head and cocked the hammer back. “Bye-bye.”

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

Bruce Lee's ironic name was surprisingly accurate. She couldn’t match his moves, and found herself struggling to keep up. It was over pretty quickly as she found herself struggling to breathe. Layla did indeed claw at her throat, attempting to yank the chain away to take in air. That’s when Edgar strode over, a smug little grin on his face and a gun aimed at her head. No, she thought. She wouldn’t die like this.

She moved her feet as if they were scissors about to sever Edgar's from his legs, then clamped against them. With the last of her strength, she pushed both of them in opposite directions to trip him. Once she was sure she’d caused him to fall, she reached for her fallen baton.

Her fingers tickled the weapon, only serving to further it from herself. As her vision began to summon dots and become fuzzy, Layla, in a final push of desperation, raised her legs over her head to wrap around Bruce Lee's. She proceeded to yank herself, and him along with her, back into the position she’d been in, driving him against the floor. She took a moment to regain her breath, then straddled his chest, aiming a fist for a particular pressure point. She drove her knuckle into it, forcing the dragon to rest.

Still gasping and sputtering for breath, Layla spotted Edgar. She stood up and quickly kicked his gun away, stepping on his throat with her right foot, her baton in hand. She bent down and nabbed the flash drive from him, staring coldly at the man.

“Poor Edgar,” she said in a mocking voice. “I should break your sorry little neck right now, watch the light drain from your eyes.” She took a long look into herself and no longer asked herself that question she’d been asking for years.

“Today's your lucky day.” She said at last. “I’m not Batman.”

Instead of extinguishing his life, she glared daggers at the poor man. “Who sent you? And how do you know so much about me?” She demanded.

[United States of Brainy]

The Warehouse

Layla Cromley

“Poor Edgar,” she said in a mocking voice. “I should break your sorry little neck right now, watch the light drain from your eyes.” She took a long look into herself and no longer asked herself that question she’d been asking for years.

“Today's your lucky day.” She said at last. “I’m not Batman.”

Instead of extinguishing his life, she glared daggers at the poor man. “Who sent you? And how do you know so much about me?” She demanded.

He starred up at her and actually started laughing. As if at a private joke that he didn't feel like sharing. A joke at the girl's expense. Of course with the foot on his neck, the laugh came out as a strangled gurgle. After the laughter-croaking stopped, he offered a cryptic explanation that made no sense. “Y-you really are…urck…her. I had…bet…that you were. Thhhanks…you won me…twenty dollarrrr…” Managing one last mocking smile, he passed out.

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

Edgar's cryptic message left Layla puzzled. She thought on what he could have meant by that when it dawned on her. He knew she was Deputy. Layla spit on Edgar's crumpled body and moved over to the girl who’d been tied up in the chair. She removed the serrated blade she’d packed away in her sleeve's hidden pocket and uncapped it, beginning to saw at the binds. She freed the woman from the chair, brushing herself off. Edgar was just a far off memory to her now.

“You’re safe now.” She informed her, bending down to scoop up her baton off the ground. “I can call a cab for you if you’d like.”

[United States of Brainy]

Layla Cromley

Edgar's cryptic message left Layla puzzled. She thought on what he could have meant by that when it dawned on her. He knew she was Deputy. Layla spit on Edgar's crumpled body and moved over to the girl who’d been tied up in the chair. She removed the serrated blade she’d packed away in her sleeve's hidden pocket and uncapped it, beginning to saw at the binds. She freed the woman from the chair, brushing herself off. Edgar was just a far off memory to her now.

“You’re safe now.” She informed her, bending down to scoop up her baton off the ground. “I can call a cab for you if you’d like.”

"That's okay," the woman told her coldly. "I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you." She slipped out a blackjack from underneath her sweatshirt and brought it down on her would-be rescuer's head.

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

“What do you-“ the realization didn’t come in time. Layla turned around to see the woman she thought she was rescuing swing a club down on her head. She saw stars, falling over almost immediately. So her greatest weakness was her greatest aspiration. Layla's eyes flirt open as she fought to get up, to fight back, to do anything. She ultimately failed, succumbing to the blackness that surrounded her as she drifted into unconsciousness.

[United States of Brainy]

Monica Delacroix

The woman known as ‘Linda’ gave the unconscious girl a kick that flipped her over on her back. “Stupid girl,” she sneered, “the trap wasn’t meant for you." Luckily, she had planned for such a contingency. If Monica believed in one thing, it was planning ahead. Unlike her kid brother. Speaking of which…

Edgar was coming around. Monica gave him a slap across the face to help him along. “Uhhhh…” Edgar starred up at his sis. “Did we get her?”

“Yeah, we got her,” she jeered. “No thanks to you and those bozos you hired.”

“Hey! Don’t blame me!” Edgar picked himself up. “It worked just like we figured! We always counted on Deputy wiping the floor with us, that’s why we were keeping you in reserve. Why we went to all that trouble to fake that knee wound. So we could fool her.”

“Deputy. Not her,” Monica corrected him.

“Oh no!” Edgar shot back. “That’s Deputy!” He flung a hand in Layla’s direction. “No way that’s not Deputy! Some politician’s little princess doesn’t have moves like that!”

As much as she hated to give her brother the satisfaction, he did have a point. “Maybe. But we can’t prove she’s Deputy,” Monica told him, refusing to concede the point. “The Penguin hired us to capture Deputy, not Layla Cromley.”

“Believe me, sis, that’s Deputy. From what that old fool Orwell told us, our Little Miss Superhero likes to play guardian angel to Cromley. Told Orwell to leave his claws out of Cromley the night she paid him that little visit. The only conceivable reason that Deputy didn’t try and stop me from blowing out the brains of Cromley’s lovely little girl is because Layla Cromley is Deputy.”

Monica wasn’t convinced. “Like I said…maybe.” By this time, the other members of The Morticians (What a stupid name, Monica thought. Sounds like Morticia from The Addams Family.) were getting up.

“Hmmm…” her brother pondered worriedly. “You might be right. What are we gonna do?”

Monica grinned. Gave his hair an affectionate ruffle. “Relax. Big sis has got it covered.” She walked over to the corner and came back with a large bag. “That’s why I brought this.” She reached inside and pulled out a dark blue bodysuit. Edgar took one look and returned his sister’s grin.



About an hour later…

Edgar and his boys tightened the last ropes around Layla. Now wearing something close to Deputy’s bodysuit and mask, sans the armor and pads, the heroine sat in the same chair that had held Monica. Like Monica, her hands were tied behind the chair. But that was just the start. This girl, whether she was really a superhero or not, had proven one big headache. They weren’t about to take any chances with her. Ropes lashed her elbows and upper arms and were threaded through the chair slats and around her waist and shoulders and chest. Further bindings secured her to the seat of the chair and pinned her ankles and knees together and to the legs and struts of the chair. Lastly, a gag, a long strip of course linen, had been tied across her mouth. Their captive, still unconscious, slumped as much as her bonds would allow which wasn’t much. Finished with their work, her captors stood back and waited for the heroine to wake up.

[Main Nation Ministry]

Joseph Coyne

When Coyne saw the Mad Hatter escape through the stairs, Coyne again tried to gesture towards Roosevelt, who started to poke his head out from the corner of the arcade machine. This time, Coyne immediately pointed towards the phone which Roosevelt saw, where Roosevelt crept nervously towards the ringing phone, rising the receiver and pressing the button to let the caller hear him. "Hello? Penny Arcade speaking."

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

When she started coming back from La La Land, Layla started looking around. Much to her dismay, the room was spinning at a disgusting speed. She shook it to clear the facade. There was no way she could be on a carousel. Layla hadn’t yet looked up at her captors, instead she began attempting to solve the mystery of why her hands and legs wouldn’t move and why she tasted something between her teeth.

Her eyes locked on to the two in front of her and it all clicked. At that point she began thrashing in the chair, trying in vain to wrench herself free from the ropes. During this violent protest she saw an all too familiar shade of blue on her legs. Then she felt the cheap feel of a mask on her face, not the same quality of her own mask, but probably looked more similar than she knew it wasn’t.

She stopped her squirming and glared at Edgar and Monica as if waiting for an explanation. That’s what bad guys normally did, right? They’d monologue about their plans until the hero escaped. At least, she hoped that would be the basic rundown of what happened.

[United States of Brainy]

The Penguin

…Roosevelt crept nervously towards the ringing phone, rising the receiver and pressing the button to let the caller hear him. "Hello? Penny Arcade speaking."

“Ahhh…Mr. Coyne! Oswald Cobblepot here! Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time!” The words might not have been entirely genuine as the crimelord was at least partially responsible for the situation that the man found himself in. “I’ve considered your proposal from the other day and I accept! A 70/30 split, that’s what I’m offering. I provide you with the product and you distribute through that quaint parlor of yours. Do we have a deal? If so, I invite you to join me tonight for a meeting between all the various parties concerned at Orwell Industries. That fellow pretending to be Tetch, bring him too. I could use a man of his particular talents. That lout in the cheap card suit, him too, if he’s still around. I don’t think I need to remind you, Mr. Coyne, of the urgency of your answer. Not only to me but to the fine officers of the GCPD waiting upon you outside.”

[United States of Brainy]

Monica and Edgar Delacroix

Layla Cromley

Her eyes locked on to the two in front of her and it all clicked. At that point she began thrashing in the chair, trying in vain to wrench herself free from the ropes. During this violent protest she saw an all too familiar shade of blue on her legs. Then she felt the cheap feel of a mask on her face, not the same quality of her own mask, but probably looked more similar than she knew it wasn’t.

She stopped her squirming and glared at Edgar and Monica as if waiting for an explanation. That’s what bad guys normally did, right? They’d monologue about their plans until the hero escaped. At least, she hoped that would be the basic rundown of what happened.

Oh no…he’s going to monologue. She could see it on her brother’s face. He was practically drooling at the mouth to do it. Yep, here we go…

“Not so tough now, are ya?” Edgar grinned. “Like your threads?” he asked, remarking on the bodysuit. “Thought we’d slip you into something a bit more, heh, comfortable.” He leered at her, said nothing, just let the insinuation hang in the air about who it was that had undressed her. Monica rolled her eyes. Edgar saw the look and decided not to push his luck. “Relax, babe,” he told Layla. “My sister here changed your clothes. Me and the guys acted like perfect gentlemen, didn’t even watch. But tying ya up, that was all us. And lemme tell ya, we enjoyed every minute of that…”

Monica interrupted. “You’re probably expecting us to tell you our Big Secret Plan. Not gonna happen. We’re not stupid, you know.” She took a ‘not-sure-about-you’ glance at Edgar before turning back to Layla. “You’re going to be the one doing the talking not us.” She reached down and yanked the gag out of the heroine’s mouth. “Now…are you or are you not Deputy?”

[Main Nation Ministry]

The Penguin

…Roosevelt crept nervously towards the ringing phone, rising the receiver and pressing the button to let the caller hear him. "Hello? Penny Arcade speaking."

“Ahhh…Mr. Coyne! Oswald Cobblepot here! Hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time!” The words might not have been entirely genuine as the crimelord was at least partially responsible for the situation that the man found himself in. “I’ve considered your proposal from the other day and I accept! A 70/30 split, that’s what I’m offering. I provide you with the product and you distribute through that quaint parlor of yours. Do we have a deal? If so, I invite you to join me tonight for a meeting between all the various parties concerned at Orwell Industries. That fellow pretending to be Tetch, bring him too. I could use a man of his particular talents. That lout in the cheap card suit, him too, if he’s still around. I don’t think I need to remind you, Mr. Coyne, of the urgency of your answer. Not only to me but to the fine officers of the GCPD waiting upon you outside.”

Joseph Coyne

Roosevelt had checked to see what was on the phone, before he had Coyne have the phone be handed to him. "Look, I told you already the vigilantes escaped down the alley!" Coyne said towards whoever was calling him, thinking it was the police. Until he realized that it was Cobblepot himself. "Cobblepot? Did you send the police here?! If so, call them off, unless they're my escort towards your little meeting tonight. You should have just gotten some hired thugs or something to come! Look, I don't know where that Alice in Wonderland creep went. He fled my establishment, the moment the cops arrived!" Coyne said to Cobblepot on the phone.

[Whalestron]

Layla Cromley

Layla was tempted to spit at Monica and leave it at that. Instead, she blinked, putting on an incredibly fake expression of confusion. “Who?” She asked innocently. If this was how she’d die, she wanted to at least piss these guys off. She looked around for some possible way to escape, anything at all. But as Edgar so colorfully explained, the boys had really been passionate about tying her up. Gag.

She looked contemplative for a minute, then shrugged. “I have no clue who you’re talking about.” She said, offering a wink at Edgar to show she did indeed know more than she let on.

[United States of Brainy]

The Penguin

Joseph Coyne

Roosevelt had checked to see what was on the phone, before he had Coyne have the phone be handed to him. "Look, I told you already the vigilantes escaped down the alley!" Coyne said towards whoever was calling him, thinking it was the police. Until he realized that it was Cobblepot himself. "Cobblepot? Did you send the police here?! If so, call them off, unless they're my escort towards your little meeting tonight. You should have just gotten some hired thugs or something to come! Look, I don't know where that Alice in Wonderland creep went. He fled my establishment, the moment the cops arrived!" Coyne said to Cobblepot on the phone.

"I realize that you find yourself in a very stressful situation at the moment, Coyne, but have a care. I am not some cheap hood. I've had better cretins than you dispatched for far lesser offenses. Now. The Hatter's inclusion would be an added benefit but not an essential component to this deal. As an incentive, I will offer a finder's fee if you are able to locate and convince this ersatz Hatter to come with you tonight. No more histrionics, Mr Coyne. I will not ask you again. Do we or do we not have a deal?"