Who: The Bat & Ra's Al Ghul What: Chances are it won't be a warm, fuzzy reunion. Where: Somewhere on the Strip. When: Las Vegas plot. Warnings/Rating: IDK.
The Bat was en route to Caesars, having seen footage of the press conference held by Gotham's sirens along with half of Las Vegas and fully intending on putting a stop to their little show. Empty vehicles abandoned by panicked citizens were scattered about on the streets, even on sidewalks, and the destructive aftermath of previous chaos was obvious. Despite the damage, there were still clusters of civilians wandering about, and some still opted to drive either in the hopes of escaping the madness or, like him, to pay Caesars visit and see what all the fuss was about. Normally it would have made travel a little tricky, but he had the Tumbler, and while the military-style vehicle wasn't quite the familiar version of the Batmobile that most would recognize it did make getting around much easier. It quite literally barreled over and through obstacles, and people were wise enough to get out of the way beforehand because he was, quite frankly, not going to stop.
Had he continued in this fashion, the Bat would have made excellent time, but he was not the sort of man who could ignore the greater need in favor of one single, selfishly-motivated goal. Caesars was a priority, but not his only one, and the nightmarish creature advancing upon a cluster of terrified tourists trapped between it and the rubble of a building suddenly surpassed the casino in importance. Caesars would have to wait.
The Tumbler spun at 180 degrees, tires screeching against the pavement in protest. The Bat did not kill, whether his foe was monster or human, but he was not opposed to grievous bodily harm, and he knew something of this magnitude (he could smell the stench of death, even encased in the vehicle as he was) could withstand far more than a normal human. The hulking black vehicle bore full speed towards the monster, which had noticed the new threat and turn away in its prey in order to meet the challenge. Car and creature came very close to meeting head-on, but the Bat swerved at the last moment, a sharp hiss the only indication of the multiple grapple lines fired in the process. Each ended in a series of hooks that dug into various areas of the monster's swollen body, causing it to roar in protest, but the Tumbler was too fast for it to free itself. The creature was dragged along the pavement for a good few feet in zig-zags and circles before it managed to snap one of the wires, but the Bat was aware of this, and in a riot of bullets and shattered glass to clear a path both Tumbler and Draugr vanished through a set of double doors leading into a half-demolished building. A few moments later there was the sound of the creature's voice, undeniably angry, then a crash and the roar of an engine, and then silence.
A few apprehensive bystanders began to venture forward, both curious and fearful of what might have occurred, but a few moments later the Tumbler rumbled out of the debris and slowed to a stop in the middle of the street, battered and scorched but still very much whole, and another couple of seconds passed before the Bat himself emerged, mouth set in a firm line as his perpetually steely gaze roamed over the street.
"You need to find shelter," he informed those gathered, and it was a command, not a request. "All of you. Now. Remaining out in the open is little better than suicide." His voice carried quite well despite the distinctive growl, and his expression became one of disapproval behind the cowl when no one moved. They stared, and there were a few flashes of camera phones, but that was it. Gotham may have been many things, but at least the people there had some sense of self-preservation.