|
|
Last Edit: May 26, 2011 20:59:11 GMT -5 by k
|
Post by k on May 26, 2011 20:57:37 GMT -5
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by atomicwinter on May 26, 2011 21:17:38 GMT -5
Room 37. Lucky 7's Casino
Satisfied with the layout of his secondary office, Noah sat down for the first time in hours. He had just finished unpacking him collection of glass numbers. Nothing like a shining 7 to lighten up the move. He had set up a desk in the center of room, with a chair on either side. Two bookcases flanked him, and a big display case behind him. The only non-elegant thing was the smell. Well, there was the smell and the single lightbulb.
He had arrived at the Casino a few hours ago, taking a offer the owner once... Well, offered him. Henchman had unloaded his items.This would be his secondary office, for the more severe villians. Or vigilantes. Ha. That would be the day. Maybe the Batman could come and he could defeat him. Kill him and be crowned the king of all 'villians.'
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by k on May 27, 2011 11:42:51 GMT -5
|
|
|
|
Last Edit: May 27, 2011 16:27:35 GMT -5 by k
|
Post by atomicwinter on May 27, 2011 16:16:05 GMT -5
Noah noticed the door opening a second before the woman's face appeared. In that split second he went through a grand total of three emotions. First, confusion. Nobody had informed him of a appointment. He didn't like unexpected visitors. After all, he wasn't on good terms with most of East Gotham. Not after wrecking their favourite cafe.
Second, pleasure. He had a customer. He was going to make some money. He was going to ruin somone's day. And that was something he loved to do. Even if he didn't get recognition for his crimes, he still loved seeing 'Bank is robbed without anyone noticing!' and 'Plane crashes into building, killing hundreds!'
But, his third one was the most important. The most undesirable one. Fear. When he saw what had opened his door, he slunk back in his skin. He started to sweat all-over. His breathing quickened, and his eyes darted around the room, his world seeming to slow down. He couldn't run. He could only fight.
His world sped up again, and he reached for him calculator, in his button up shirt. He hoped he was quicker then a bat-a-rang.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by k on May 28, 2011 18:07:52 GMT -5
[/b] Babs smiled. "You and I need a little talk," she said. How was she supposed to be intimidating? She'd seen Batman pull this trick a hundred times, but she still couldn't find herself as scary. Apparently, though, given the man's reaction and the frightened expression, she wasn't doing too badly right now. Tough wasn't really in Babs' repertoire - sarcastic comments and dry humour she could do, but the ability to scare someone wasn't much her forté and was usually best handled by Batman. She stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind her. She smiled at the man, something she hoped was halfway between a friendly smile and a smirk. Whether she was managing to pull it off, she wasn't sure. She probably just looked like she in pain... but Babs was pinning her hope on the man being too scared to even acknowledge Babs' painfully executed facial expressions. "Not so tough now, are we? Bad day at the coffee shop, was it?" Babs asked, dryly. [/ul] |
|
|
|
|
|
Post by atomicwinter on May 28, 2011 19:42:05 GMT -5
Noah heard the sharp crack of the batarang on his wrist before he felt it. Instantly he lost feeling of his lower arm, and fell to the ground nursing it. All he could focus on was his arm. He looked up at Batgirl, hot tears in his eyes.
"Nuh uh. You and I need a little talk."
He bit the inside of his cheek to stop the flow of tears, trying to hide his tears. He didn't want to seem weak infront of the vigilante, and he certainly shouldn't be crying. He had suffered worse, but that was during his time when he was young and could control himself. He was old and weak now.
"Not so tough now, are we? Bad day at the coffee shop, was it?" Noah remembered what had happened and kicked himself. Metaphorically. He was in too much pain to actually kick himself. He had been drunk with power and let it get to his head. He had drawn attention to himself, and was now going to pay the price.
"I'll give you what you want, just leave me alone!" Noah yelled, trying to crawl away from the door with his good hand.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by k on May 28, 2011 21:23:35 GMT -5
[/b] Babs asked, looking around the room. "So why don't you give me some info then - who are you?" Babs asked, standing over the man. Her eyes were narrowed and she looked down at him. This couldn't possibly be the man she'd read about... although, given his files and Batman's history with him, perhaps it plausable. Once he gave her a clearer idea, or answered her question, she could begin to plan how she was going to approach this. She should probably relieve Nightwing of his survellience duty, she thought, he probably had better things to do than wait around to give assistance to a case like this. Important things like water his fern plant, Babs thought. [/ul] |
|
|
|
|
|
Post by atomicwinter on May 28, 2011 22:40:16 GMT -5
Noah stared up at the girl. His eyes moved to the box across the room, containing his Lucra, a double-barreled sawn-off shotgun. It was too far for him to get. He struggled to a more comfortable position, all the time watching his hand. There was a bruise forming, and it felt like there was a fracture. He leaned against a wall, staring up at the girl.
"N-N-N-Noah." He stammered, glaring at her. He realized something. Barely anyone knew him. Nobody knew his name. He was that guy that helped you with your finances, or helped you murder that commissioner.
It came at him like a hammer, and he almost started crying again. He bit back the tears and looked up at her.
"I d-d-deal advise." He stammered, clearing his throat. He realized the woman infront of him was barely more then a girl. Batgirl. He could defeat her in a fight if he had his suit... Or atleast, he could lose then murder her the next time he fought her. He moved his bad hand slowly to his chest protecter. "I need... Need my inhaler." He croaked, the best he could. The minute he got his calculator he could defend himself. His hand clenched around it, and he pressed a few buttons.
Beep.
A sledgehammer of yellow energy bursts out of his pocket, speeding through the air at Batgirl. He decided if he could knock her out of his room, he could easily defend himself until he called for backup.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Post by k on May 30, 2011 14:35:20 GMT -5
[/b] she snapped, her hand on her shoulder briefly. Her head hurt where she'd been flung into the wall, but she was on her feet again. "I was ready to play nice, Noah," she informed him, referring back to the sliver of information he'd given her about his name. She may be just a girl, indeed, but she was easily underestimated by people due to her size, stature and gender. Barbara Gordon was not a woman to be underestimated by any means. Babs kicked the door shut to cut off Noah's immediate route of escape, if he chose to try and make one, of course. She was breathing heavily and looked across the room at the man. The simple fact was, dealing with her was the least of his worries. She was traceable, and if something happened, he wouldn't just have Nightwing knocking on his door, but Batman too. It wasn't a good idea to mess with people with friends in high places. Babs gave Noah a smirk, and stood across the room, ready to make another sudden move if she had to. She didn't want to attack back - in fact, she knew better than to do so. "Why don't we talk, Noah? Talking is so underrated," she told him, ready to jump or defend herself if she needed to. "If you think I came here without covering my back, then you're clearly wrong," she informed him, feeling the pain in her shoulder. Sure, Nightwing was at his base, but it wouldn't exactly take him long to get here if he needed to. However, as far as Noah knew, he could be waiting outside the window she'd come in from. [/ul] |
|
|
|
|
|
Post by atomicwinter on May 30, 2011 15:53:25 GMT -5
Noah swore lightly under his breath when the masked girl didn't take the full force of his attack. He he listened to her, his hand gripping the calculator tight still. "No." He yelled, click a few more buttons in rapid succession. A bolt of yellow light as thin as a hair came out of his calculator in a serpent like fashion, doing swirls and moving up and down. It stopped for a millisecond above the glass numbers. Then, it erupting into a full wall of yellow light, cutting the glass numbers and the desk cleanly in half. It stayed there for a moment, then flickered out.
Boom.
The calculator exploded in Noahs hand, knocking everything away from it. Books fell from the case, glass broke, and the box containing his Lucra (Which was hanging out of it) slid at the vigilante. Noah started to scream in agony as third degree burns covered his left arm. The pain was worse then anything in his life, and he wanted to die. In this small series of events, which took just a few seconds, way too short for him (Or anyone than the Flash) to react. The explosion was small and had only caught Noah in the blast, but the shock wave had been almost too big for such a small explosion. Noah's body ached from all this. He must of overloaded the calculator, making the battery explode. He continued to scream, his eyes dropped. He would soon go into shock.
|
|
