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Last Edit: Nov 15, 2010 11:39:52 GMT -5 by vicki
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Post by vicki on Nov 12, 2010 19:35:32 GMT -5
Vicki nods along in idle agreement with Barbara's commentary, glancing around the crowd occasionally as though searching for someone more important. There's no offense meant to Barbara, but it's not as if the seventeen-year-old is going to provide any riveting news stories for the Gazette. Her father, perhaps, but not the girl on her own.
"Stories?" Vicki repeats, lashes blinking as she returns her distracted attention to the younger lady. "Oh, of course. Several. Everyone wants to know the true identity of the Batman, you know..." She trails off as her fleeting gaze happens across the distinctive figure of Bruce Wayne approaching -- and stopping to chat with Ms. Kyle. The expression of untainted scorn on her face is unmistakable, her blue eyes cold as ice above the tight, thin line of her lips. Lucky bitch.
After a moment of staring daggers at Selina, Vicki turns back to Barbara with her vitriol barely veiled. "Excuse me, miss Gordon. Give your father my well-wishes." With that, the reporter spins on her heels, making her way towards the pair at a slow and as casual a pace as she can manage, attempting to wiggle her way into the conversation at the most convenient point. Well, convenient for Bruce, at least.
As soon as she's able to catch the bachelor's attentions, she flashes him a bright smile. "Mr. Wayne! How lovely to see you," she greets cheerfully while she fishes out a small notebook from her purse. "Care to share a few words of endorsement for the Gazette...?" Right to business, as always. She can't take the risk that Mr. Wayne will get swept up into the party crowd once more before she gets a chance to ask him for such.
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Post by kara on Nov 12, 2010 22:21:40 GMT -5
Clark would not approve. On so many levels, Clark would not approve. He wouldn't approve of Kara openly socializing as herself; he was a total worry-wort about putting people in danger by them even appearing to have any sort of relationship with Superman. He wouldn't approve of her rather revealing dress or the fact that she bought it with money earned by signing an endorsement deal for a line of Supergirl dolls. And of course, he certainly wouldn't approve of the fact that part of the reason she was here was to try and back Batman into a corner. But wasn't that sort of the point, to break out of only following the patterns that Clark "approved"? She'd swiftly grown to love her adopted cousin and had a huge degree of respect for him but she didn't want to really be him. And it had been months since she'd publicly stated in a live interview that she didn't have a secret identity; why shouldn't she, Kara In-Ze, be able to go to a gala? It just wasn't the same for the others; Clark really was Clark Kent. That's who he was raised as. It wasn't fair to ask her to have two fake identities, Supergirl and a civilian one on top of it, and never be able to actually be herself. As for the dress and its means of purchase, she was a 16 year old girl and deserved the chance to look good and she couldn't let Clark support her on a reporter's salary forever! And okay, maybe this was the cowards way to go with revealing her presence in Gotham but she'd fought Gods consistently put herself in the path of catastrophe to protect others; maybe, just maybe, she'd earned the right for a moment of cowardice. This way, with her presence and a mission statement publicly known in Gotham's upper epsilons, hopefully Batman would be less inclined to try and kick her out of "his city". Kara could do good here, she knew she could. Of course, had she known that the Dark Knight was the one hosting this gala, she might have reconsidered. But she didn't; he didn't trust her enough to tell her his secret identity, always wearing that lead-lined cowl ever since the first time Clark used X-Ray vision on it, and those who did trust her and knew his name respected his decision whether or not they agreed with it. Besides, it was absolutely an excellent and worthy cause. She could fight bad guys all day and night but it was a bit self-defeating if she took no effort in the bigger picture of Earth's well being. Sometimes she could not help but wonder if, if her own people had focused more on the ecosystem prior to disaster striking, they would have been able to save Argo. Having spent more than enough time on silent self-justifying of a decision she was still a bit on edge about, Kara finally descended from her hovering position in the sky to alight on the front steps of Wayne Manor. Even as those nearest the door eyed her and murmured, she strolled in with all the poise she could muster. This would not be Clark's scene at all, the farmboy in him would be horribly uncomfortable, but Kara had been raised in a family of ranking politicians; Human and Argoan elite social niceties weren't all that different... right?
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Last Edit: Nov 13, 2010 7:59:23 GMT -5 by vicki
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Post by revan on Nov 13, 2010 7:40:23 GMT -5
Slade took Selina's offered hand, and shook it, taking care not to crush her hand in his grip. Not being one to shake hands often, it was often a chore for Slade to remember to go easy on people. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Kyle. My name is Slade Wilson, though I doubt you'll remember that." He smiled, showing it was fine. And indeed it was. Slade would likely forget this woman's name, given enough time, unless she turned out to be someone incredibly important, or she made constant appearances where he went... which Slade doubted he would.
As he finished introducing himself, Slade spotted a familiar face making his way through the crowd, a face that made him frown. Bruce Wayne, his target, was approaching, clearly intent on Ms. Kyle. Which could potentially be an issue. Though he wasn't concerned with his story falling through, being caught in a lie by anyone, regardless of who it was, was never fun. And it would look bad since Wayne didn't know Slade personally. Great.
When Wayne came to the two of them, to shake Ms. Kyle's hand, Slade forced a smile and nodded at Wayne, in an effort to be polite. Though this was the man that Slade planned on killing before the night was out, he figured Wayne warranted at least some respect.
It was then that another woman detached herself from the crowd, and approached Wayne, Kyle, and himself. Slade held back a barely suppressed groan; this woman was a reporter. If there was anything in the world that annoyed Slade more than his idiot enemies, it would be reporters. Always trying to get that one good piece of information, just so they could twist it and destroy it, until nothing of the true meaning was left, and leaving only lies and opinions. Or, so he felt. In reality, they weren't nearly as bad, but his experiences with reporters definitely left alot to be desired.
He laughed softly when he realized not even the reporter took notice of him. Clearly, there were not many in Gotham who knew of the world famous Slade Wilson, Safari and Game hunter. Which, actually, was both pathetic and reasonable, at the same time. Anyone with true, full blown interest in saving the rainforest would have at least heard his name... he was, one of the names attached to a number of wildlife preservation groups. Mind you, that was Slade Wilson... Deathstroke, on the other hand, couldn't care less.
In this case, he was glad most people didn't know who he was. Slade always operated best anonymously.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Nov 13, 2010 18:11:07 GMT -5
Is Pamela the type of young woman to throw herself at a billionaire's feet as soon as he appears? No, of course not! She's the type to linger conspicuously nearby until she's either greeted or he leaves. And so when the host of the party appears she casually meanders in his direction while pretending to people-watch.
And watching people she is, though her attention is more specifically on Mr. Wayne and Ms. Kyle. So she does know him. It doesn't occur to her to be jealous - she's not at all interested in the man, though it would be nice to have a shot at the money. After all, she could do so many better things with it than pretend to care about the world by throwing a party that only manages to save a piece of it.
When she comes close but not too close the stops and pretends to be enjoying her drink. But getting closer to Bruce means that she also comes closer to the man Selina was talking to before. And now that she's able to get a good look at him she starts to get the nagging feeling that she should recognize him. That she doesn't know who he is immediately should be no surprise - she'd recognize the name far more easily than the face and though she's genuinely concerned about the rainforest she's also been very distracted by other things in recent years, and she can't be expected to remember everyone associated with her favorite cause - especially when their focus is animals. Nevertheless, when she overhears him introduce himself she's quick enough to speak up: "You're Slade Wilson?" she asks abruptly but politely, suddenly far more interested in meeting him.
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Avalikia
Beware the Admin!
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Registered On: Oct 25, 2010 17:23:29 GMT -5 ~
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Post by Avalikia on Nov 13, 2010 20:07:49 GMT -5
"Slade Wilson?" Selina asks abrubtly, knowing that she recognized the face of the man, though she couldn't remember the name attached to him. A frown appears, and her eyes narrow just enough to be noticeable up at the man who she'd grown to have a grude against for his career alone. Some would call him a safari hunter, or a trapper, or something. She would label him as a poacher. A heartless man out there killing the creatures that she was trying to protect with her legitimate work for money and for fame. Needless to say, she was quite done with their conversation.
"Well, Slade. I would say it's been a pleasure as well but I'm afraid I'm not one of your doting fans." She said, trying to be polite about it. No need to get snippity here any more than she already had with Ms. Vale not too long ago.
As she turned her back toward Slade, who would be in her way other than the host of the party himself, Bruce Wayne. A shocked sort of look appears not because she's surprised to see him really, but because he was right there, right when she turned around. She doesn't smile though, and instead just holds out her hand boredly and shakes his simply for the fact that it was good manners. Oh, she wasn't upset with him per se.. just with the company he felt was appropriate for a party that aimed towards saving the rainforests and the animals within it as opposed to killing them for a profit.
Quickly flashing a fake smile, Selina nodded toward Bruce, but pulled her hand back as well. "Mr. Wayne, always a pleasure. Shame, you caught me just as I was heading out." Seeing yet another rather un-welcome intrusion coming her way by the name of Vicki Vale; again, Selina's brows fell in a frustrated manner and she let out a quiet huff of breath accidentally in her irritation. Looking back to Bruce, she again flashed a fake smile. "I've made a contribution to the fundraiser, since I assume the money that you'll get from this is mostly what you care about. You should see if you can't get anything from the famous poacher; whose presence here is really just.. the icing on the cake for me." Rude, yes. But Selina had had enough of the niceties for one night. She did have better things to do than have her morals be insulted by a bunch of big-wigs and their half-hearted interest in saving anything other than their pennies.
"Have fun." She said afterward, concluding her little show of distaste and brushing past all of them, not saying a word to either Vicki or Pamela, who had begun talking to Slade. Her goal now was to find a path through the suits and dresses, and get outside. From there, she would ditch the formal-wear for something a bit more form-fitting and suitable for a grand heist.
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Post by simba on Nov 14, 2010 16:18:19 GMT -5
A reporter, already! It never ceases to amaze him the means to which journalists will stoop to get whatever tidbit of information they could scavenge. Journalism. Nothing more than information scavengers. Vultures swooping in after the battle to rip whatever bit of flesh remains on the bones of society remains. Mr. Wayne doesn't care for reporters, no no, he doesn't.
Managing to muster a polite, genial smile, Bruce turns his gaze over towards Ms. Vale. "Good evening," the bachelor responds, not bothering to extend a hand to the journalist. He wouldn't want her talons to dig into his palm, after all. "Certainly. It is the duty of all of Gotham and its fine businesses to ensure the longevity of the earth's most precious resources. The rainforest being one of those."
With that, Wayne's eyes glance back over towards Selina and her... companion, of sorts. He hid a dark smile as he watched the fellow member of the wealthy establishment go from moderately genial to downright pissy in just a few words from the other man. Maybe it's her time of the month. He shook her hand firmly, flashing a handsome smile. "Indeed, truly a pleasure," Bruce responded as he retracted his hand from hers as well. "And yet, truly a shame that you are leaving so soon. I'm sure your opinions are much welcome among the decision-makers of Gotham," Bruce commented before turning his head to watch her slip away and into the crowd.
And with that, his gaze turned up to the man and this... other woman. "Slade Wilson, you say? A pleasure," Wayne begins to extend his hand before turning to Pamela. "And who is this exceptional young beauty?" the bachelor asks as he turns his attention to Ms. Isley, turning his hand to point his palm upwards for her to take his fingers, that he might properly greet a lady so elegant as herself.
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Post by revan on Nov 15, 2010 0:20:57 GMT -5
Slade snorted when Ms. Kyle left in a huff, her tone turning from tolerant to pissy in a shorter time than it takes to wave. He dismissed the change in mood, strictly because he knew what was likely because she remembered how he was associated with the cause. It was pity, really, that one would think safari hunter and immiedetly assume the person behind the career as a poacher and criminal. Slade himself had made it a personal thing not to hunt endagered species, instead keeping to animals some would call exotic, but were potentially in danger of over population. However, he understood other's feelings, and so he let it go.
When she left, another woman approached, a young redhead who asked whether or not he was Slade Wilson. He turned his head to her and smiled. "Why yes, that would be me. I suppose you don't see how my work has helped anyone, am I right?" He grinned to show he was joking.
When Wayne came up to him, Slade shook his hand, with that entirely false smile shielding him from the millionaire. The urge to rip the man's hand off his arm was strong, but he needed to wait until he could pull off the stunt without anyone seeing his face. No, he'd shoot Wayne... soon.
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Post by kara on Nov 15, 2010 2:06:05 GMT -5
No, Kara was quite correct; politics and social graces between her original homeworld and her adopted one differed only in the details and specifics which she had already learned enough to correct. Perfunctory commentary was mostly what was delegated to evening's actual cause before more general conversation was focused on until those actually committed to the purpose of the fund raiser subtly indicated such to one another and had their own side conversations. Kara was one of these, quickly sussing out (okay, she cheated by listening to heartbeats) whose interest was genuine and speaking at length with them. Of course, she was polite and friendly to all and ignored none; her mother and father would be proud of her diplomatic skills, she noted with a hint of longing.
The guests here were at the top of the social food chain. As such, no one was asking for her autograph or anything overtly fan-like as that, which was rather a blessing. A number of people did initially address her as Supergirl (did Wally, a much more experienced hero in the public identity sector, have that issue she wondered?) but then there were also plenty who made the point of referring to her as Miss In-Ze (Thank you! She'd only announced her name on an international news network). In either case, she always insisted they simply call her Kara. In each interaction, she made a point of mentioning that she intended to aid in dealing with the crime in Gotham for the foreseeable future. This proposal met with almost unanimous support; take that Batman!
Of course, one rather huge difference between the upper epsilons of society on Earth and Argo was the media. She'd grown up with planetary surveillance and information flow regulated by advanced AI and, despite being on Earth for nearly a year now, had yet to really grasp the much different nature of the human way of doing things. As such, Kara's mind did not take into account the concept of scandalous headlines and she saw nothing wrong with tastefully flirting with a few of the younger men there nor in sipping from a glass of champagne she'd plucked off the tray of a passing server; it tasted good and it wasn't like her yellow-sun-infused biology could be made drunk by it, anyway.
Kara politely excused herself from a group of rather catty young women when she caught sight of the event's host, rather late to his own party it seemed. She had mixed feelings about Bruce Wayne, ironic given that she had a similar outlook (for different reasons, obviously) on the Batman whose oneness with the billionaire playboy she was unaware of. On the one hand, she could appreciate the man's desire for freedom and living life to the fullest. However, she'd been raised with the values that those with power, influence, and resources have a responsibility to aid the world. While Wayne Enterprises had many effective humanitarian programs, it seemed that this had little enough to do with actual influence or even involvement from Bruce himself. Still, he was quite possibly the top of the social ladder in Gotham as well as tonight's host; she made her way over towards where he was conversing with a older gentleman wearing an eye patch and a gorgeous redheaded woman.
"Good evening, Mr. Wayne; this is an excellent event." When his preexisting conversation reached an appropriate lull, Kara greeted the debonair man. Smiling easily and genuinely, she extended a hand in greeting; one of the odder human social customs she'd become acquainted with. She'd be rather shocked if he didn't know who she was but it was still customary to introduce herself as it was his home and she the guest.
"Kara In-Ze."
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Post by vicki on Nov 15, 2010 11:54:39 GMT -5
Vicki quickly scribbles down Bruce's quote word for word, offering him a gracious smile and a simple word of gratitude: "Thanks." But as she pauses for a moment to take in her surroundings (ever the journalist), that's the extent of her pleasantries.
Selina's huff of annoyance doesn't go unnoticed, nor does the distinct lack of any offered handshake from the fashionably late host while everyone else around her receives the honor, and with the arrival of yet another lovely blonde bombshell to distract Mr. Wayne's attentions, Vicki decides she's had quite enough of the hoity-toity party (and its attendees) for one night. She got what she came for, after all...time to retire, kick back, and enjoy a relaxing glass of wine in the peaceful quiet of her home.
Wordlessly slipping away from the group, Vicki winds her way through the expansive group of party-goers until she's returned to the atrium leading out of the mansion. Taking her coat from Mr. Wayne's butler with a polite smile, she heads out the front door and into one of the many waiting taxi cabs lined up in the circular driveway outside.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Nov 16, 2010 5:44:43 GMT -5
When Selina heads off in a huff, Pamela deftly hides her amusement behind a sip of her drink. Really, all that fuss about a few animals? Which is really a rather hypocritical thought given what she'd do if Mr. Slade was involved in logging instead. But as that's not the case, his question is answered with a very quick, "Oh, hardly! If it weren't for people like you working to preserve what they can, then events like this would be useless." Which is actually a sincere enough thing for her to say and therefore an oddity among everything else she's said to anyone thus far tonight.
For example, the smile that greets Mr. Wayne at his question, especially phrased that way, is almost completely false. She doesn't trust men, especially powerful ones, though she's also not especially intimidated by them - not anymore. Still, she fakes being flattered by compliments well enough, since she's had a lot of practice. "Doctor Pamela Isley," she answers as she takes the offered hand, "And it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Wayne. I had hoped to thank you for supporting such a wonderful cause - I've made botany my life's work and yet so few realize how precious the rainforest is." She forces herself to stop there before she goes into a rant - even the pheromones can only do so much if she were to start raving uncontrollably on her favorite subject. Besides, it's not worth it here; she has her doubts that this party was more than a passing fancy by the billionaire.
When they're approached by another young woman, a very young woman, she initially takes no notice - some rich kid playing at being grown-up, most likely. But upon hearing the name she does a quick double-take, surprised to see her here of all places. She doesn't have any particular opinions about the young superhero; much like the others here she sees her as one of many powerful and important figures in the room, but that also extends a bit further than perhaps is average - she's not only not star-struck, but she also doesn't particularly care about Miss In-Ze.
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Post by simba on Nov 16, 2010 21:39:52 GMT -5
Bruce Wayne ignored, or at least appeared to ignore, anyway, the poacher as his attention was instead entirely drawn by the ravishingly beautiful ginger snap standing in front of him. The Guardian of the Night is still allowed to have an appreciation for beauty and beautiful women, does he not? Not that he doesn't immediately catch her indifference towards him, despite her gussied-up words. "Enchantee, Doctor," the bachelor says as he immediately brings up her hand with his own. He cups her fingers tenderly before lowering his lips to plant a short, graceful kiss on the back of her hand. And with that, he lowers his hand once more before withdrawing it to his side. His fingers slip partially into his suit coat's outside pocket, his thumb and forefinger the only digits remaining exposed. "Well, I can assure you, Dr. Isley, that this is not a mere passing fancy. It is our prerogative to ensure that the beauty of our world's rainforests remain in perpetuity." Suave, as always.
Wayne would turn his attention back to the poacher, but as soon as Miss In-Ze arrives, his attention is immediately taken once more. "It is the curse of a perpetual bachelor, Mr. Wilson," Bruce accents with a brief, exaggerated sigh. "I am cursed throughout life to be surrounded by enchanting ladies. It is truly a pleasure, Miss In-Ze," Bruce turns his full gaze towards Supergirl, taking the young lady's hand into his own and shaking it firmly.
He could not help but stare at Supergirl's eyes for a moment, capturing her emotion at the time. So confident, so proud, this young superhero. Confidence that is surely and inevitably badly placed. But these are lessons for her to learn; the lights of Gotham are so very different from that of Metropolis. And the darkness so much stronger. "I had not been informed of your arrival in Gotham City, Ms. In-Ze," Wayne says with a polite smile, albeit the statement was an outright lie.
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Post by revan on Nov 17, 2010 12:24:04 GMT -5
(((OOC:// Oh COME ON! He's not a poacher! He's a legitiment hunter! No poaching at all! xP )))
Slade's eyebrows rose at the arrival of the little blonde from Metropolis. He had hardly expected one of those so-called 'heroes' to be present. It did, indeed, present a new challenge in what Slade was here to do. Perhaps, he though, he should wait... and yet, perhaps not. Maybe the arrival of this 'Supergirl' would actually prove fortunious. From what he had heard, she had no sense of precognition... so she would hardly be able to react faster than Slade, he who has faster reflexes then the Flash.
Then there was the added bonus from acting now. If he could pull of the kill, while this hero was standing next to Wayne, well, it would fullfill his contract and lessen the faith the public had in these idiots. Yes... perfect.
He looked at his watch, meaningfully, and frowned. Turning back to Doctor Isley, Slade smiled sadly. "Well, I just realized that I am going to be late for an extremely important meeting I have with some of my associates. It was great to make your aquaintance, but I must be going now." With that, he turned and headed away.
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Post by Pamela Isley - Poison Ivy on Nov 18, 2010 19:46:25 GMT -5
It's all too easy for Pamela to tell that she's enraptured Mr. Wayne - her natural beauty, combined with the pheromones that can pretty much only be ignored if you realize it's happening, are a powerful lure to the average male. Like flies around a venus fly trap. "Yes," she agrees readily, "Their beauty and their natural medicines and their biodiversity and the habitat which they provide for wildlife." Leave it to a botanist to be able to list all of those off without really thinking about it. But she doesn't believe for a moment that he's really concerned about such things - more likely it's just that he thinks that's what she wants to hear. Still, she keeps the flattered smile at the attention firmly in place - at least until his attention shifts over to Miss In-Ze.
As Mr. Wilson starts talking about leaving Pamela doesn't have to fake the look of mild disappointment on her face because she's long past being tired of all the people who claim to care about the cause and he's one of so very few that have actually proven their commitment. Of course, it didn't help that she arrived at the party already frustrated by all the fakers even before she bumped into a few industrialists that she knows are corrupt earlier in the evening - it's a small miracle that she didn't go off on one of them. "It was a pleasure to meet you," she says with a smile as he departs.
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Last Edit: Nov 19, 2010 14:53:46 GMT -5 by vicki
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Post by revan on Nov 19, 2010 14:52:46 GMT -5
Good... no one is stopping me...
Slade hurried off, towards the exit, as if he was late for another engagement. However, as soon as he was out of sight from the few he had spoken too, he managed to duck into a side hall, where no one was at all. He smiled. It would do nicely.
He unbuttoned his jacket, and reached in. Pulling from an interior pocket a mask of orange and blue, Slade pulled it over his head. It was as if Slade had dissapeared entirely, which was exactly what Slade was going for. For this was the mask of Deathstroke the Terminator... assassin, mercenary, and hero-for-hire. Following his mask, Slade pulled out a 92FS Berrata pistol, and a silencer. Screwing the silencer to the gun barrel, Slade smiled beneath his mask. It was indeed fortunious that this was a formal party... sneaking weapons under suit jackets was incredibly easy.
He turned his head back down the hallway, to where the main body of the party was, and couldn't help but chuckle. No one had noticed him at all... and no one would know it was him when he struck. No one. Sure, they could think it... but part of his life as Slade Wilson rested on the famous fact that he was nearly completely honest... supposedly.
With a smile, Slade threw the jacket he wore too the ground, revealing the light set of armor he wore beneath it. Smuggling his full gear was incredibly hard to do, but the light version would make do. Besides, it wasn't as if he had expected to do any gunfighting... at this point, the worst he could look forward to was that Supergirl might try something stupid. And Slade was absaloutly sure he could take her. After all... he had once tangled with the Man of Steel himself, and survived. His lower powered relative would be nothing compared to him.
He dropped his pants, and stepped out of them, to show off his armor beneath them, as well. Again... suits were incredibly easy to smuggle things in, if who knew how to do it.
Now, with his armor, mask, and gun at the ready, Slade made his way back down the hall. As he emerged from the corridor, the guests around the area gasped in fear, and backed away slowly. His walk started slow at first, but got quicker as he went. Eventually, when he could spot Wayne and his present company, Slade raised his gun, aimed directly at the multi-millionaire. Grinning manically beneath his mask, Slade got within twenty feet of the man....
And fired. Four shots directly at Bruce Wayne. Two aimed for the chest, two to the head. Overkill, for a man not wearing any protection, but just overkill, in this case. Slade was going for shock value, as much as lethality here.
Sleep well in hell, jackass.
((OOC:// So, Wayne, as promised, I'm shooting at you. React as you will. ;D And if anything needs changing, just go ahead and let me know. I'm more than happy to oblige.))
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Post by kara on Nov 19, 2010 17:32:17 GMT -5
"Well, I've really only just arrived. Hopefully you'll be hearing a great deal more about me in Gotham in the future though."
Kara had initially laughed lightly with a genuine smile at the smooth bachelor's compliments upon greeting her but, though her expression only faltered slightly, she was a bit thrown by his next bit. It wasn't so much his comment on not knowing she had arrived in the city itself as the fact that his heart rate gave it away as a lie to her super hearing. The fact that he had known was a bit disconcerting. She thought she'd been very subtle up until now but if he knew then it was a guarantee that Batman (World's Greatest Detective and all) had figured it out too; as much as Kara wanted to take the fact that he'd not interfered as a sign of approval, it only made her uneasy.
The older gentleman left rather abruptly and, Kara felt, a bit rudely without an introduction. The redhead, one miss Dr. Isley apparently, and Bruce continued their discussion and she was distracted from both Batman and the other guests departure by the topic. A botanist; this was interesting to Kara and she was about to inquire further on the subject when her focus was wrenched in a new direction once again. Unmistakable sounds of evident fear caused her to turn in time for her eyes to widen at the masked man striding in.
Deathstroke; she'd never encountered him herself but she'd heard of him from both Clarka and the Teen Titans. Evidently, the horror stories she'd been told were not exaggerated either as he fired his weapon too swiftly for even her to prevent. However, she was Supergirl and she was still faster than the speeding bullets themselves. The world seemed to slow around her as Kara stepped around Bruce Wayne, lifting into the air between him and the would-be assassin as she crossed her arms over her face and took the bullets. They impacted against her forearms and abdomen with sparks of contact.
At least none tore the minimal material of her new dress; Kara had a sinking feeling that the garment would not be worth wearing before the night was out though and, worse still, that it would be the least of her worries. With a grimace, Supergirl shot through the air in a blur towards Deathstroke, intent on taking him with her out the nearest window and away from all these potential casualties.
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