BATMAN (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_caped_crusader) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
logsville2021-02-02 10:43 pm
the_caped_crusader) wrote in logsville2021-02-02 10:43 pm
Breaking and Entering
Who: Batman & YOU???
When: Late at night, between 12-4am
Where: Police Department
What: Batman's looking for clues.
Warnings: As I've mentioned, I have permission from the mods to investigate the police station. However, I know nothing more than that-- not what they'll find, or the consequences that will take place. If you take part in this, your character may be subject to the whims of the mods, whatever they may be.
[ santa rosita is a far cry from gotham, it's low, suburban rooftops offering little cover by themselves if not for the almost unnatural shadow that seemed to creep at every corner. for batman, that would be enough.
he spent the first month stocking up on cheap supplies at honeybee's, the kinds of tools that he could engineer into basic lockpicks, smoke grenades, or even batarangs. while he was grateful (though suspicious) of his suit arriving at his doorstep one morning, it was more than unfortunate that it had been reverse engineered somehow to remove some of it's more important qualities, namely the contents of his utility belt. it was times like this that he had to remember his training, and that, in the beginning, he had done far more with far less.
the police station was small, serving as both a boon and a crux at the same time. there would be less to search, but it would be easier to be seen by whatever night shift remained on duty. he could remember the way they looked at the gala months back, unable to ascertain whether they possessed supernatural senses or not; he supposed he would find out shortly. once inside, he hugged to the shadows, lips thinning at the almost entirely open office area just past the lobby. his intention was to look at their evidence room, or perhaps search their files for past criminal activity in the area. harding's office he would save for last. ]
[ ooc: if parts of this prompt don't work for you, feel free to have them jump in at any point before bats enters the station, or give me your own! i'm very flexible, and available to chat at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
BATGUY if you'd like. ]
When: Late at night, between 12-4am
Where: Police Department
What: Batman's looking for clues.
Warnings: As I've mentioned, I have permission from the mods to investigate the police station. However, I know nothing more than that-- not what they'll find, or the consequences that will take place. If you take part in this, your character may be subject to the whims of the mods, whatever they may be.
[ santa rosita is a far cry from gotham, it's low, suburban rooftops offering little cover by themselves if not for the almost unnatural shadow that seemed to creep at every corner. for batman, that would be enough.
he spent the first month stocking up on cheap supplies at honeybee's, the kinds of tools that he could engineer into basic lockpicks, smoke grenades, or even batarangs. while he was grateful (though suspicious) of his suit arriving at his doorstep one morning, it was more than unfortunate that it had been reverse engineered somehow to remove some of it's more important qualities, namely the contents of his utility belt. it was times like this that he had to remember his training, and that, in the beginning, he had done far more with far less.
the police station was small, serving as both a boon and a crux at the same time. there would be less to search, but it would be easier to be seen by whatever night shift remained on duty. he could remember the way they looked at the gala months back, unable to ascertain whether they possessed supernatural senses or not; he supposed he would find out shortly. once inside, he hugged to the shadows, lips thinning at the almost entirely open office area just past the lobby. his intention was to look at their evidence room, or perhaps search their files for past criminal activity in the area. harding's office he would save for last. ]
[ ooc: if parts of this prompt don't work for you, feel free to have them jump in at any point before bats enters the station, or give me your own! i'm very flexible, and available to chat at
no subject
You ever get the feeling that this might be a bad idea? [ his mouth sets into a tight frown. ] This is one of those times.
no subject
Layered over the buzzing, a voice whispers to them.
Shut up.
One by one, more voices begin to fill his and Diana's ears, some frantically murmuring, others hissing, a few even crying. And the longer Bruce fiddles with the lock, the louder they get until, soon, they're all crying out to be heard over one another:
The disembodied scream hits Bruce and Diana like a speeding truck. Like a plunge beneath a wave, saltwater and sting and all, comes the flood: rage, horror, grief, despair, all of it rushing to meet the two of them, literally knocking them off their feet. The psychic backlash is so strong that it may even feel like a brain aneurysm, drawing a bloody nose if they're particularly unlucky.
Once they step away from the door, everything goes silent once more... until they try to touch the door again, in which case it starts all over again.]
no subject
She's vulnerable, and she doesn't like it.
Diana doesn't continue on down the hallway, instead standing behind Bruce as a lookout. She doesn't see anybody, but she still feels as if they're under some ominous, watchful gaze, and it makes her skin crawl.]
Yes, it is.
[A moment passes, and she's about to open her mouth to tell him they should leave--but then the buzzing starts in her head. Not her ears, her head. Hackles rising, she swivels, trying to see what's causing this, but before she can orient herself properly, the voices explode into her mind.
She's left winded by the initial onslaught, but it only gets worse from there; the volume rises, the anguish grows. At the last, Diana stumbles back as if physically shoved, feeling as if her head is caught in a vice that won't let go. She falls to her knees, breath stolen from her lungs, and something warm trails from her nose. She can't yet reach up to wipe it away, her head still spinning until the voices abruptly stop. Panting quietly, she waits for her eyes to come back into focus before speaking, her voice a croak:]
Are--are you still with me?