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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on May 29, 2019 16:25:25 GMT -5
Participants: Tim Drake-Wayne & Barbara Gordon Open/Closed: Closed unless we decide we want a specific villain thrown in and/or another hero if Tim gets in over his head. Location(s): The Iceberg Lounge, Gotham City Time of Day: Night - roughly 9:26 PM Weather: Cloudy Summary: Tim goes to Barbara for help on a case.
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It'd been a while since he'd gone to Barbara for help. Since becoming Red Robin, he'd been relying on Lonnie Machin as his own personal Oracle. He tried not to compare the two - both were valuable allies and friends of his. But Lonnie was busy on another assignment. Osiris had resurfaced in Metropolis, at the Science Police headquarters. And while Tim planned on asking Ryan personally how that had ended, he'd also asked Lonnie to find out what he could. Osiris was a possible threat, especially if he was now an enemy of the Science Police. He wanted to know where the teen had been before he resurfaced and where he was now.
But there was still work to be done as Lonnie searched. The Iceberg Lounge was still operational - ugh - and a hot spot for criminals. He'd heard rumors, whispers mostly, of a meeting of some big name criminals here. He didn't know if they were truly big name criminals or if they just wanted people to think they were so no one would interrupt their meeting. They could have been random crime lords or newbies trying to make a name for themselves. He wasn't sure. He'd asked Barbara to try to identify them, as well as get any information she could.
It was better than going in blind or asking too much of Lonnie at one time. Besides, it felt really good to be working with Barbara again. A part of him felt like he was Robin again.
"Any luck finding out whose going to be at this meeting?" he asked quietly into his comm link as he dropped down onto the roof of the Iceberg Lounge, quickly ducking into the cover of shadows as some guards passed by several feet away. They weren't within earshot, with him whispering, but he still needed to be careful.
"Do we know if Penguin's out of Arkham or even in town?" he added another question. He tried his best to keep track of which villains were in and out of Arkham - or any other prison, so long as they frequented Gotham - but that list was back at his computer in his own personal miniature Batcave at home. Well it was miniature only in comparison to the original Batcave. He'd given Barbara access to his list but he also had a feeling she'd have a list of her own.
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402 words Barbara Gordon
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I'm Oracle. I know everybody.
Di
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jul 17, 2019 9:19:46 GMT -5
Oracle sat before the window/wall exterior of Kord Tower. What could, and oftentimes did, provide a panoramic view of Gotham City through the bulletproof, one-way mirrored glass was currently obscured by the vast array of screens projected onto its surface. Real, tangible keyboards and interfaces were clicking beneath her fingers, but other holographic relays and points were kindled in the air for her use, too. A muted snap of electricity and curse sounded from a nearby room - Babs didn't think Savant's time in his personal workshop was going so well. While Barbara worked, a ping sounded. Another, smaller window spread itself to her right and the surrounding points shrank, expanded and scuttled around to smoothly make room for it. The rectangular thing showed a circular icon featuring an avian-inspired emblem. That emblem thrust out an arm of light that anchored to a blip on the ever-present map of Gotham City that dominated a stretch just off-center. Tim's voice instinctively plucked up one corner of Babs's mouth. She hoped he'd missed working with her like this as much as she had. That half-smirk faded, replaced by lips pursed in stern thought as her focus shifted, changing to peer through the glass at the partially blacked out sprawl of the city. Oracle reoriented and her fingers, which had stilled, leaped back into action. "Looks like a meeting of the local gun cartel and the Bludhaven chapter. Probably trying to agree on mutually beneficial plans to get more concrete avenues of trade set up between them." Barbara frowned at the spreadsheet of various sources, points of intelligence and so forth that she'd strung together regarding the mysterious meeting occurring at the Iceberg Lounge. "And Cobblepot is currently-" Oracle glanced at a feed of a posh, highly inappropriate exotic dance club in Paris where the Penguin was salivating over a woman wearing less string than she'd use to tie her shoes, "out of the country," she finished. "Your list is extremely thorough, by the way. I'm impressed." And she was. Tim Drake-Wayne
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26Likes
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If Bruce taught me anything, it's that you have to have a game plan. For everything. Even for death.
KF / Anna
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Post by Tim Drake-Wayne on Sept 27, 2019 1:30:29 GMT -5
Tim nodded more so to himself as Barbara briefed him, noting each piece of information she gave him and filing them away. A local gun cartel and the Blüdhaven chapter? Those definitely seemed like the type to use the Iceberg Lounge as a meetup. Whether or not their business began and concluded here was yet to be seen. If he wasn't careful, they could move their meeting to another location.
"I'm sure they won't mind if I step in," he said, trying for a lighthearted comment - he had a feeling sometimes other people thought he could be too serious. "And mediate their meeting for them." He knew for a fact that they would very much mind and start shooting bullets at him. Luckily he had plenty of experience pissing criminals off and being shot at. Besides after the beating he got while taking down Ra's al Ghul, getting shot at seemed far less life threatening.
He moved swiftly and quietly through the darkness to a vent, expertly unscrewing and the bars that he was certain Penguin hoped would keep vigilantes like him out of the building. Ironically Oswald needed to improve his security. Speaking of Oswald, he noticed the pause before Barbara informed him that he was indeed out of the country. He quirked an eyebrow under his mask but decided it was better if he didn't know. Unless it was illegal, he had no desire to know what Oswald Cobblepot was doing in his free time. At least not right now.
He could always find out later and add it to the information on his list. Hopefully it wouldn't mentally scar him. Though it might be better if he didn't know, he decided. The possibilities his mind was already coming up with was enough to make him shudder.
He blinked at Barbara's compliment on his list and thus on him. It took him a moment to register it because he'd been focused on slipping into the vents when she said it. He found himself grinning with pride. The compliment was nice in and of itself but the fact that it came from Barbara Gordon made it even more so. A simple thank you didn't feel like enough but he also, for once, was at a loss for words.
"Thank you," he said, feeling lame but unable to come up with anything better to say. "That means a lot."
He remembered looking up to Barbara when he'd started out as Robin and continuing to look up to her ever since. Anytime he could make her, Bruce, Alfred, or Dick proud - and even impressed - was a good day in his book.
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443 words Barbara Gordon
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64Likes
99Posts
I'm Oracle. I know everybody.
Di
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Post by Barbara Gordon on Jan 28, 2020 14:55:05 GMT -5
"Don't let it go to your head, little brother," Barbara quipped at Tim, tone clear that she was teasing. "And you're welcome." While she spoke, her fingers struck keys, screens, readings and other intelligence outputs in a strange, seemingly rudderless flow. Windows opened, closed, rearranged, minimized, shrank and swelled at Oracle's bidding, presenting her a steady stream of information to sift through while Red Robin slipped into the Iceberg Lounge. "Apparently 'the best money can buy' is getting worse and worse by the day based on Oswald's security system." Rather than sound grateful for the fact, Babs conveyed only disdain and judgmental scorn. "I could break into this with nothing but a smartphone." And, for all its simplicity, the Iceberg's security was excessively, exhaustively thorough. The amount of cameras - hidden and otherwise - that opened in a kaleidoscope of thumbnails to her left showed that much. "Good news: the meeting's going down in the VIP area. Not the one for celebrities, the one for goons." The series of corridors and chambers Babs spoke of was designed for meetings between volatile parties far from the money-spending patrons of the broader lounge. Bulletproof glass, soundproof walls. Oswald could welcome a party of mobsters into the receiving room with open arms, have them massacred, and no one on the dance floor would ever suspect a thing. "That means no danger of hostages or civilians. Also means a lot harder to get in and out of for you."Tim Drake-Wayne
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