- Location
- America
The title is literally a description of the Quest.
QM not responsible for
Dick Quest
- Thread starter Lichte
- Start date
QM not responsible for
The Fourth Monado
S U B A R A S H I I
- Location
- Away
[X] Deal with Killer Moth.
Bladestar123
Happy
- Location
- Man, wherever
[X] Deal with Killer Moth.
I figure that Dick puns may be frowned upon, especially in the quantity I spent the last 5 minutes writing
Sadness
I figure that Dick puns may be frowned upon, especially in the quantity I spent the last 5 minutes writing
Sadness
wertsir
Knower of the Unknown
- Location
- Lost in A Deep Fog
Yeah, that would make you look like a bit of a prick....
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Bladestar123
Happy
- Location
- Man, wherever
I assure you, I'm quite a stand-up guy
- Location
- America
I'd get offended on his behalf, but he has some stiff competition.
- Location
- California
Well, he's more Best Boy .1.5. He gets a boost for being best friends with Best Boy.I'd get offended on his behalf, but he has some stiff competition.
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[X] Deal with Killer Moth.
- [X] If possible, give the wannabe Robin a stern talking to. You don't want some kid to be dead in a ditch before they even graduate middle school.
- [X] If possible, give the wannabe Robin a stern talking to. You don't want some kid to be dead in a ditch before they even graduate middle school.
[X] Deal with Killer Moth.
- [X] If possible, give the wannabe Robin a stern talking to. You don't want some kid to be dead in a ditch before they even graduate middle school.
Hype engaged.
- [X] If possible, give the wannabe Robin a stern talking to. You don't want some kid to be dead in a ditch before they even graduate middle school.
Hype engaged.
- Location
- Postcard from the Root
[X] OOW
02
- Location
- America
It takes ten minutes to reach GCPDHQ.
The bike is left two blocks away, your approach finished over the rooftops. From the new vantage point, you can see the flames of the building licking at the midnight sky.
The street below is dotted with uniformed officers and firefighters, the occasional news crew and detective questioning the former and keeping clear of the latter. No sign of Walker or the Batman wannabe.
At your perch across the street, at the edge of the building opposite the police headquarters, you withdraw a small mirror from a pouch on your belt and wave it a little. The light from the blaze shines from it, getting the attention of your target. With a gesture, he's directed away from prying eyes.
In the old days you would've been spotted right away, a kid in a bright yellow cape, a red vest, light green tights, and pixie boots. You outfit these days wasn't one so eager to draw the eye. The green tights were still there, but dark enough to blend into the shadows and long enough to reach your wrists and ankles. The inner side of the cape was still yellow, but the outer side was now the same black color as your mask, boots, and gloves, the latter being bulky things loaded with extra gear.
You follow the man from above, dropping a few feet ahead of him as he enters an alley. Well into his fifties and familiar with your partner's methods, Gordon doesn't flinch at your sudden arrival. For your part, you manage to keep silent through the strain on your injured leg. His eyes narrow at the display, dark circles beneath them proof that he hasn't been sleeping any better than you this month. "Your boss hasn't been answering my calls," he notes. The commissioner is at least half a foot taller than you. Once, the badge, gun, and size disparity probably would've been enough to intimidate you into an honest answer.
Now, you've seen scarier. "He's been busy," you say. Probably not a lie. "What happened here?"
He sighs, clearly not satisfied with your response, but answers anyway. "Drury and Lynns turned up to hit the place about half an hour ago-"
"Sorry," you interrupt. "Lynns?"
"Garfield Lynns," Gordon answers. "Cracked special effects guy who got an actress killed on set, met up with Drury somewhere, and started calling himself Firefly."
You glance at the entrance of the alleyway, the street lit by the burning police building. "Can't imagine why," you mutter. "Casualties?"
"Four dead so far, a lot of injured the EMTs aren't sure will make it."
Damn. "So what happened?"
"Like I said, the pair of them turned up and started raising hell about half an hour ago. They went down easy enough; a shot to Lynns's helmet knocked him out, after that Drury dropped his gun and gave up without a fight. At the time, we figured Lynns had been strong-arming him into going along with things and he was happy to have an out."
"I take it things didn't go so smoothly?"
Gordon shook his head. "Nobody's sure what happened now. While they were being put in a cell, they apparently managed to break out and get to their gear, started burning the place from within, and split up to get away. But we can't exactly pull up footage from the security cameras to see how they did it. There's still no sign of Lynns, and we lost track of Walker when he went chasing your new friend uptown."
"She's not with us," you tell him.
"Commissioner!" someone shouts from the street. Gordon turns around, your cue to slip around a corner and back onto the rooftops. "Moth and Batgirl are heading north on Queen's Boulevard."
You shake your head as Gordon parrots the latter name. You're going to need to nip that in the bud.
It only takes a minute on the bike to catch up to the pair. The girl is nowhere to be seen, presumably trying to keep to unlit areas. Moth is flitting from rooftop to rooftop, peering down into alleys. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, the sound of the bike drowned out by his flight pack. The bat-line, a spool of elastic wire tipped by a grappling hook and connected to a winch, hauls you up to the roof just as your target takes to the air.
"Found you!" he cries. As he takes aim at the girl you assume is below him, a well-placed batarang knocks his pack out of commission. He barely manages to catch himself, the arm holding the gun hooked over the raised edge of the rooftop. You fling one of your 'special' batarangs at him, a red foam exploding out of it after hitting his hand.
The foam was a highly adhesive polyurethane , modified from a construction material Wayne Enterprises picked up in a buyout last year. Fireproof, porous enough to breathe through if it covered the face, and damn-near impossible to break by force, it was as perfect a restraint as you could hope for.
Moth wails as you approach. "Get this shit off me bird brain, this was supposed to be my night!" You're not in the mood to deal with him. You ignore the dangling man, looking down at the girl he'd been chasing.
Her costume looked pretty cheap. A black cowl with pointed tips, red hair spilling out the back of it, and the front didn't really do much to cover her face. You could make out the structure of her cheek bones, see her blue eyes and red eyebrows. The rest wasn't much better; a dark blue cape hanging down to her waist, a black leather jacket with a yellow bat symbol stenciled onto the chest tucked into yellow rubber gloves, black jeans similarly tucked into a pair of combat boots that looked like they'd been coated in paint to match the gloves.
All in all, anyone that knew her would recognize her if they got a good look.
"Go home," you tell the girl. "Don't do this again."
"What!?" she demands. "Who are you to tell me that? What do you think you have that I don't?"
You drop down from the edge of the roof into the alley with her. "Training, equipment, and experience," you answer.
She starts again, stalking over and standing an inch or two over you. Not surprising, she has a year or two on you. "Let's see your license to go running around in-"
"Barbara Gordon," you start, quietly enough that the man dangling two stories above won't hear over his own struggling. "This is not a game."
She falls silent, trying to find a response, but the two of you are interrupted by the sound of brick shattering. Moth drops from above, having gotten around the adhesive by somehow breaking the entire chunk of wall he'd been stuck to off the building. You allow yourself a moment of relief as his right arm gets stuck to the ground, only to see the man rip the concrete free as he stands. If you didn't know better, you'd swear his eyes were glowing red beneath the grey helmet.
"That's a new trick," you mutter. "You join a gym or something?"
This... might be harder than you expected.
[] Cry
[] Scream
[] Die
[] Write-in
The bike is left two blocks away, your approach finished over the rooftops. From the new vantage point, you can see the flames of the building licking at the midnight sky.
The street below is dotted with uniformed officers and firefighters, the occasional news crew and detective questioning the former and keeping clear of the latter. No sign of Walker or the Batman wannabe.
At your perch across the street, at the edge of the building opposite the police headquarters, you withdraw a small mirror from a pouch on your belt and wave it a little. The light from the blaze shines from it, getting the attention of your target. With a gesture, he's directed away from prying eyes.
In the old days you would've been spotted right away, a kid in a bright yellow cape, a red vest, light green tights, and pixie boots. You outfit these days wasn't one so eager to draw the eye. The green tights were still there, but dark enough to blend into the shadows and long enough to reach your wrists and ankles. The inner side of the cape was still yellow, but the outer side was now the same black color as your mask, boots, and gloves, the latter being bulky things loaded with extra gear.
You follow the man from above, dropping a few feet ahead of him as he enters an alley. Well into his fifties and familiar with your partner's methods, Gordon doesn't flinch at your sudden arrival. For your part, you manage to keep silent through the strain on your injured leg. His eyes narrow at the display, dark circles beneath them proof that he hasn't been sleeping any better than you this month. "Your boss hasn't been answering my calls," he notes. The commissioner is at least half a foot taller than you. Once, the badge, gun, and size disparity probably would've been enough to intimidate you into an honest answer.
Now, you've seen scarier. "He's been busy," you say. Probably not a lie. "What happened here?"
He sighs, clearly not satisfied with your response, but answers anyway. "Drury and Lynns turned up to hit the place about half an hour ago-"
"Sorry," you interrupt. "Lynns?"
"Garfield Lynns," Gordon answers. "Cracked special effects guy who got an actress killed on set, met up with Drury somewhere, and started calling himself Firefly."
You glance at the entrance of the alleyway, the street lit by the burning police building. "Can't imagine why," you mutter. "Casualties?"
"Four dead so far, a lot of injured the EMTs aren't sure will make it."
Damn. "So what happened?"
"Like I said, the pair of them turned up and started raising hell about half an hour ago. They went down easy enough; a shot to Lynns's helmet knocked him out, after that Drury dropped his gun and gave up without a fight. At the time, we figured Lynns had been strong-arming him into going along with things and he was happy to have an out."
"I take it things didn't go so smoothly?"
Gordon shook his head. "Nobody's sure what happened now. While they were being put in a cell, they apparently managed to break out and get to their gear, started burning the place from within, and split up to get away. But we can't exactly pull up footage from the security cameras to see how they did it. There's still no sign of Lynns, and we lost track of Walker when he went chasing your new friend uptown."
"She's not with us," you tell him.
"Commissioner!" someone shouts from the street. Gordon turns around, your cue to slip around a corner and back onto the rooftops. "Moth and Batgirl are heading north on Queen's Boulevard."
You shake your head as Gordon parrots the latter name. You're going to need to nip that in the bud.
It only takes a minute on the bike to catch up to the pair. The girl is nowhere to be seen, presumably trying to keep to unlit areas. Moth is flitting from rooftop to rooftop, peering down into alleys. He doesn't seem to have noticed you, the sound of the bike drowned out by his flight pack. The bat-line, a spool of elastic wire tipped by a grappling hook and connected to a winch, hauls you up to the roof just as your target takes to the air.
"Found you!" he cries. As he takes aim at the girl you assume is below him, a well-placed batarang knocks his pack out of commission. He barely manages to catch himself, the arm holding the gun hooked over the raised edge of the rooftop. You fling one of your 'special' batarangs at him, a red foam exploding out of it after hitting his hand.
The foam was a highly adhesive polyurethane , modified from a construction material Wayne Enterprises picked up in a buyout last year. Fireproof, porous enough to breathe through if it covered the face, and damn-near impossible to break by force, it was as perfect a restraint as you could hope for.
Moth wails as you approach. "Get this shit off me bird brain, this was supposed to be my night!" You're not in the mood to deal with him. You ignore the dangling man, looking down at the girl he'd been chasing.
Her costume looked pretty cheap. A black cowl with pointed tips, red hair spilling out the back of it, and the front didn't really do much to cover her face. You could make out the structure of her cheek bones, see her blue eyes and red eyebrows. The rest wasn't much better; a dark blue cape hanging down to her waist, a black leather jacket with a yellow bat symbol stenciled onto the chest tucked into yellow rubber gloves, black jeans similarly tucked into a pair of combat boots that looked like they'd been coated in paint to match the gloves.
All in all, anyone that knew her would recognize her if they got a good look.
"Go home," you tell the girl. "Don't do this again."
"What!?" she demands. "Who are you to tell me that? What do you think you have that I don't?"
You drop down from the edge of the roof into the alley with her. "Training, equipment, and experience," you answer.
She starts again, stalking over and standing an inch or two over you. Not surprising, she has a year or two on you. "Let's see your license to go running around in-"
"Barbara Gordon," you start, quietly enough that the man dangling two stories above won't hear over his own struggling. "This is not a game."
She falls silent, trying to find a response, but the two of you are interrupted by the sound of brick shattering. Moth drops from above, having gotten around the adhesive by somehow breaking the entire chunk of wall he'd been stuck to off the building. You allow yourself a moment of relief as his right arm gets stuck to the ground, only to see the man rip the concrete free as he stands. If you didn't know better, you'd swear his eyes were glowing red beneath the grey helmet.
"That's a new trick," you mutter. "You join a gym or something?"
This... might be harder than you expected.
[] Cry
[] Scream
[] Die
[] Write-in
Bladestar123
Happy
- Location
- Man, wherever
[] Demand that he share whatever he's on
] Demand that he share whatever he's on
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
[X] Retreat
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety.
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety.
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The Fourth Monado
S U B A R A S H I I
- Location
- Away
[X] Kick 'im in the daddy bags.
Generic_Generica
Notice me Senpai~
- Location
- Right behind you
[Q] Scream
- [Q] Then kick 'im in the daddy bags.
- [Q] Then kick 'im in the daddy bags.
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Sendicard
Writer of Sakura
- Location
- New Mexico, USA
- Pronouns
- YouPick
Before this kicks off and wins.
-
No.
My statement has nothing to do with honor, but reality.
I, can continue fighting after being kicked in the balls.
Anyone who actually fights, can continue fighting after being kicked in the balls.
This guy is clearly currently superhuman. Do not base your entire strategy on kicking him in the balls.
Well, I mean, unless you want us to die painfully. If you do, go for it, it'll probably be amusing.
Night_stalker
Slava Ukraini!
- Pronouns
- He/Him
It's Killer Moth. Just because he's now slightly dangerous doesn't change a thing.
Bladestar123
Happy
- Location
- Man, wherever
[X] Retreat
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety, before going back for Moth
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety, before going back for Moth
Generic_Generica
Notice me Senpai~
- Location
- Right behind you
Meh. Humor's good and all but it's time to put our serious face on. Echoing @Bladestar123 here.
[X] Retreat
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety.
[X] Retreat
-[X] Foam his feet first so, even if he can move, it isn't very fast, and he'll leave an obvious trail
-[X] Send up a signal / Call in the police/backup
-[X] Focus on getting Barbara to safety.
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Bladestar123
Happy
- Location
- Man, wherever
I edited my vote a little - I recommend doing the same if you think it's better