Jonathan Copeland (lightofday_) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-11-09 15:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | batman, superman |
Who: Bats and Sentinel-possibly an appearance by Johnny because its the middle of the night and he’s not been resting
Where: Some random alley in the city
When: UNDECIDED
What: Best Friends Crime Fighting Agency!
Sentinel had been having an exhausting day, he did most of his work during the day, he was the only one that didn’t need the cover and shadows of night, and for that reason Oracle hooked him up during the day. It worked better, and criminals certainly didn’t stop committing crimes simply because it was daylight.
But Oracle had asked him for a last favor, a home invasion in progress, close to him and he’d gone. He didn’t like saying no, he’d been slowly building up his stamina and he’d been out in the sun most of the day. He felt he’d be alright. And he was, for the most part. He watched and waited, got the jump on the three thugs that were involved. Johnny was a trained fighter, he could take on groups larger than this, and he knew how to disarm them quickly and efficiently.
Under normal circumstances his stamina was strong, it was easy to keep his ability working, fight, and win. But these circumstances weren’t normal. Even as he disarmed the men, they got more shots in than normal, and he felt his lip split, his eye bruising, and his nose bleeding. He needed to get this done and over with, they weren’t a real match for him without their weapons. He managed to restrain two of them and his strength was seriously waning. He was breathing heavily, his eyes stung and the third man made a break for it. Johnny composed himself and ran after him. “This is Sentinel, I’m heading north on Walnut street headed towards 19th avenue, in the Ballard neighborhood, I’ve got two perps held at 806 Walnut, the owner is calling the police, no injuries. I’m running after the other, can anyone cut him off?”
His feet hit the pavement hard, and he kept his pace as best he could, it felt like he had anvils strapped to his shoes and his chest heaved. Crap. This was not going to go well, he knew what happened when he pushed himself and something was going to have to give. He didn’t know what, but he was actually gaining on the guy that was running and with one final exertion he launched himself at him and they both hit the pavement hard and with a thud. The grappling started, he was using pure strength of will at this point and the perp managed to scratch his face. It was a full on wrestling match at this point, neither willing to let the other off the ground and Sentinel using every last bit of his strength to stay unrecognizable and to at least hope that someone showed up before the involuntary rest took over and the perp not only kicked his ass but got away.
Pure chance had the Bat in the right place at the right time to swoop in and save the--night. He could relate to Sentinel’s problem, though his was nocturnal as opposed to diurnal, but it’s all the same thing at the end of the day. Night.
The Bat came down 21st by rooftop, slid down a zipline at the corner of 20th, and ran down the street in a way that really did resemble an overgrown bat, cape streaming behind and feet otherwise silent. His eyes were good at night (they had a lot of time to adjust), and he could separate Sentinel from the other man--but wait. The Bat put on the brakes. He couldn’t tell Sentinel from the other man--and then he could. There were two dark heads and flailing fists, and then there was an unknown man and Sentinel.
As the effect wore in and out, the Bat paused to get his bearings and waited until he got a flicker of recognition--and then he struck. The man was on top when he interfered first, getting in a solid punch on the back above the hip--a kidney. That made the man release his hold, and once he did (foolishly reeling back to see who hit him) the Bat caught his wrist in a neat lock that rolled it back toward his shoulder, and the man fell onto the ground next to Sentinel with a thud and a wail.
A second later the Bat put a foot on the outside of the man’s knee, dropped on top of him with all his weight, and ziptied the man’s wrist to the back of his belt. Then he stepped back and dispassionately watched him flail around for a few seconds before turning to Sentinel. “Sentinel...” It was almost a question.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the thug being kicked around by someone else, it took a moment until he realized it was the Bat. He moved from the ground to his knees while the Bat finished his work.
He tried to get his ability under control. He shouldn’t have called for help. He should have let him run and called for back up and ran home as fast as he could. Dammit. He sat back onto the sidewalk, and took a few deep breaths, keeping his head down. “Thanks,” he said truly sincerely, but clearing his throat, even his voice sounded differently.
The Bat was looking at him. No, staring. Because features were outlining and impressions were stacking and memories were jogging. After a couple moments of non-response, the Bat turned around and landed a well-aimed strike at the man that took him right on the jaw hinge and dropped him like a sack of wet cement.
Then, promptly, he turned back around and said, in a voice entirely disconnected from the comm and strangely frowning, “I’ve seen you somewhere.” Short pause. “What’s wrong?”
Sentinel kept his head down, even if the Bat mentioned he had seen him somewhere. He was in it now, but he didn’t have to just give it to him. “I get weaker at night, everything gets weaker if I haven’t had enough sun, I’ve been busy today,” he said sighing a bit. “It happens fast,” he didn’t have the energy to go into details, he had never really tested the limits of his ability as much as he had lately. There was nothing more important to him than his secret, and now the Bat had it too.
“Ah,” the Bat said, as if that explained everything. “I’m familiar with the effect. Everyone seems to have limits.” The Bat crouched (casually stepping over the prone body) and made as if to lift Sentinel by the elbow and set him on his feet. He didn’t seem to be taking the identity thing too seriously so far; perhaps because so far he hadn’t recognized Sentinel beyond the fact that he’d seen him somewhere sometime before.
Sentinel stood, a little wobbly on his feet, but not willing to try and get much more help other than that. He was doing his best to keep his head turned but that didn’t feel too great with how woozy he was. “He didn’t see my face did he?” he asked, nodding toward the man on the ground. It may have been an opinion he was seeking, but he’d trust the Bat’s judgment on this.
The gauntlet was like iron. “Not a chance,” the Bat said, immediately, with absolute certainty. The devil ears tipped slightly to the side and the grim gray gaze narrowed on Sentinel’s face. “Ah,” he said, recognition. Johnny Copeland. He’d seen him many times, as he had a file on him that included all his articles on vigilantes and some on other topics. Copeland, as a voice, was a mover, and it paid to know who moved the public. “Interesting.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but he was surprised at the extent of the man’s duplicity.
“Thanks,” he said again this time realizing it was stupid to keep trying to hide his face, he looked at the other man, he rarely got his face beat the way he had tonight. Bruises on his body were nothing new, but his face would be harder to explain. He furrowed his brow a bit, at the comment, and shrugged, “Not so much,” he didn’t see much interesting about it, that much was certain. He just knew that what mattered to him most in the world was that no one find out, and that no one get hurt by it. “I assume that my need for discretion goes without saying?” he asked calmly, and rather politely given the typical vigilante M.O. “It’s incredibly important.”
“Without saying,” the Bat agreed, after a moment, “though in ordinary circumstances I’d prefer you had a different camouflage method.” The eyes remained calm, frozen over. “Does Main know?” He tried to put some disapproval in there, just for good measure.
He was sure that a different camouflage moment would come in handy, but he wasn’t going to even think about putting a mask on until he was well rested. He didn’t like deferring to what anyone else would “prefer”, but it was obvious he was right. He didn’t need to argue over things that were pointless. No matter what the personal feelings were. He looked at him again, shooting him another confused look, “No,” he said as if that was the dumbest question he’d ever been asked. “No one knows.”
Interestingly, the Bat was talking about Johnny’s articles on Sentinel, not his lack of mask. No point in clarifying. He looked away to scan the area for listening ears and so no one. Not even a light in a window. “Then,” the Bat said, gravely, “let us hope she doesn’t find out. Do you have transportation nearby? You’re done for the night.” Johnny’s face was swelling up fantastically, and no one was going to be able to recognize him anyway.
Johnny actually chuckled then. The last thing he ever wanted was for Max to find this out, he didn’t care what that took. He barely cared the cost. “I walked,” he said simply. Oracle had called him because he was closest. “I’m fine,” he said. Though he wasn’t. He’d at least try and make it home. That much had to be easy.
The Bat took the support of his arm away (carefully) as you didn’t insist a man was incapable in this job. “I can see that,” the Bat said, not allowing so much as a twitch of humor. “The police are coming, however, and we need to leave quickly. Come on.” Rather than insisting, the Bat found it a lot easier to just order people to do the sensible thing, and let them resent him later.
Johnny rolled his eyes, but again he had a point. He could have countered the police with the fact that they weren’t looking for a reporter. But Johnny was dead on his feet, the police would love to find a reporter passed out in the street. It wouldn’t be the first night he’d spent outside do to his weaknesses, but it wasn’t his favorite thing. “Lead the way,” he said taking a forced deep breath.
He was already doing that. You could see what it was about the Bat that made people so damn irritated at him all the time. He led Johnny back uptown, and the street numbers got bigger until they moved and blurred, and eventually they were in an alley looking at a car with dull paint, a dent above the gas tank door, and strangely dark, empty windows. When the Bat approached there was the perceptible click of locks in greeting, though he made no move. “Get in,” the Bat said, as sirens screamed in the distance.
Sentinel followed, as easy going as he was he didn’t fall into the ‘irritated by the Bat’ category. He fell into the ‘grateful he showed up’ category. He put his personal feeling aside, they had no real base in reality and he certainly wasn’t going to act like a child about it today. Things were far too complicated, and Johnny’s opinions were first world problems really. He slid into the car and leaned his head back and sighed loudly. His eyes closed on their own but he fought actual sleep though his body was threatening it. “I don’t think you’re a sociopath,” he said though mostly it was the exhaustion talking, the Bat was the only one who knew who he was, he figured he was the only one he owed an explanation to at that point.
“There are profile characteristics,” the Bat said, calmly, as he flipped switches and eyed screens, “and I can understand the misapprehension.” He started the car, and though the windows seemed absolutely clear from the inside, they showed only vague silhouettes to the outside. He knew Copeland’s building address from his file, and didn’t ask. “Among paranoia, secretiveness, superficiality, and aggression, sociopaths are defined by their lack of empathy for others and their disregard for social norms, right and wrong. It assists my goals if the vast majority of people believe me to be unaffected by their expectations.” Write away, Johnny. The Bat wouldn’t be in a suit like this if he didn’t want people to think he was a crazy monster capable of anything.
“It assists all of our goals,” he said though his eyes stayed closed. Johnny had learned the hard way that as a hero, living up to these kinds of expectations were next to impossible. And the last thing he wanted was another damn fan club. He just wanted to do his job, both of them, in relative peace. At least as much was possible. Apparently Johnny Copeland spent his time pining over a vigilante junkie, and Sentinel spent his time trying to make everyone leave him alone. Awesome.
After several minutes of silence that was only interrupted by the occasional digital beep of certain police codes being reported on the scanners, the car came to a stop two streets down from Bathos. “You’re one of the best liars I’ve ever met,” the Bat said, and it was a compliment. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” And without pause. “The building is two blocks to the east.” He was looking at him from under the mask, not that you could see his eyes.
Johnny raised his eyebrows at the comment, he could tell it was a compliment but he didn’t like it just the same. He didn’t lie, well he did, but he didn’t like to lie. He was raised, and practically hard wired to be honest and always do the right thing. Unfortunately he had learned that being honest and always doing the right thing were not mutually exclusive. “It’s a necessary evil,” he answered as he opened the door, “Thank you again, for the ride and your discretion. Goodnight,” he said though didn’t wait for any kind of response. If he didn’t make it back to his apartment, and quickly, he was going to spend the night on the sidewalk beaten to bloody pulp. Not a good look for him.