(2014-09-27) Special Delivery
Special Delivery
Summary: Happenstance brings Domino, Nightcrawlwer, and Blackout all pretty darn close to one another, but not quite
Date: (2014-09-27)
Related: Some
NPCs: Mafia types
Scene Runner: Domino.
Social/Plot: Plot

It's a typical Gotham night, which means it's dark, has some ground fog scattered about, and generally kinda grimy feeling thanks to some cold humidity in the air. Trouble could be brewing anywhere, such as at an abandoned harbor where a lone speedboat has coasted up to the shore where a couple of shadowy figures interact with a couple other shadowy figures waiting next to a plain dark brown van. Cargo and money trade hands before the two vehicles depart, each going separate ways. One crosses the bay, the other rolls through still patches of brackish water.

Business continues as usual within the city.

Meanwhile, several blocks away…

"Sir, they've made contact. Everything is right on schedule."

An Italian man in an impeccably sharp suit doesn't look up from the list of names laid out before himself. "Delightful. Keep me appraised of any unforseen setbacks. Have the Rockefellers arrived yet?"

[Within the vicinity of the goings on there is one Kurt in town, amongst the fog and shadows, mostly unseen. Not that he's here walking, or looking for business. He's here for himself. Out for the weekend from his usual haunts and simply being free in the cool, humid air that is laying a smattering of fog in a blanket over Gotham.

He is wall crawling on buildings, playing at acrobats, and occasionally a bamf. The only thing really giving his presence away would be the glorious (yes) smell of brimstone. Which is slightly better than rotten eggs because of that slight wiff that mingles into that is like gunpowder or fireworks. Sure it makes the nose twinge but it has that hint of excitement to it, anything could happen.

His antics him on the buildings near rivers edge. He keeps his ports to line of sight, simply using it as a back up for when his acrobatics can't make the gaps he's enjoying. He is doing something akin to parkour, parkour for the meta with his capabilities. He's not touching the ground so much as he whips about up there.

The uniqueness of Kurt's teleportation drew the attention of Blackout earlier and now Blackout has been trying to discern the dimensional aspects of the stunt. He spent time in research on the Helicarrier and after speaking with others he understood that it's necessary to bring Kurt in for questioning and study - if, and only if, Blackout is truly wanting a proper answer.

The mission. Blackout has once again drawn a mission that deals directly with the Italian mob. He is to observe the comings and goings of certain individuals within a certain family that resides in Gotham. It's grunt work and could be handled by a normal, but Blackout asked for an op, was given one. When in reality he wanted an op that involved some spycraft, intrigue, and maybe some pew-pew. Not sitting on the side of a building with binoculars and a mic that picks up voices at 200 yards. Boring.

Being high up above the quiet Gotham streets means that it's that much easier for the lone panel van to draw some attention, it's literally the only vehicle on the road down by the docks. Or, that's how it would appear at first glance.

It doesn't make it very far before there's the higher pitched whining of a couple of sport bikes launching out of the darkness, suddenly giving pursuit. It can never be so easy, however. No one stops when they're being chased! Not in this city, not at this time of night. Not when there's underhanded dealings at stake.

One van and three bikes quickly speed up, though the trio of motorbikes have no trouble overtaking and swarming the bulkier Chevy.

Back across town…

Beautiful crystal chandeliers scatter the soft yellow lighting throughout the large, well appointed dining area, giving the space a comfortable warm glow as if lit by nothing more than candles. The well-dressed Italian man looks out upon the room and its high ranking guests with some admiration in his eyes. Any moment, now… The last few attendants are making their way to their designated tables. Fancy and expensive drinks are only a moment further away.

The van does get some attention, as does the whine of the bikes. Bad news that it get's his attention maybe, good news that it means he bamfs near a good vantage point of the vicnity; or maybe reverse the good and the bad. Hopefully wherever Blackout has gone for this awesome vantage, he's inside somewhere with closed windows. If not, he might not notice anything except that whiff of brimstone. It could be something in the river but its close to his location.

Of course, if he is out by the air, he might be alerted to someone in the nearby shadows. Invisible to most, that blue elf named Kurt might be spotted by someone alerted to his presence, noting that smell, turning and seeying his yellow eyes seemlingly suspended in whatever shadowy darkness he has found to go look at what is going on.

Blackout jots down the license plate of another vehicle arriving at the restaurant. He sighs quietly to himself while crouched 20 floors up on the ledge of a building across the street. He also wears his all black body suit that covers every aspect of himself. He could really use N-Ray vision. That would be super handy right about now. Presently, Blackout is too far from the van's location and associated activity to notice.

Kurt's appearance does however attract his attention. Kurt is located a few floors down and approximately 50 yards away from Blackout (50 yards closer to the location of the presently unseen van).

Blackout will turn the mic toward Kurt and suddenly pick up the whine of the motorcycles blocks away. Blackout flenches and fumbles for the volume while saying to himself, "Son of a bitch."

The obnoxiously loud screaming of a small biker gang isn't the worst of it. Soon there's also the screeching of tires, the crunch and scrape of physical impacts, and..naturally, the complimentary gunfire. Small caliber, fully automatic. A couple of them, shots rapidly popping in the distance.

Those don't last terribly long, however.

Amidst the automatic weapons are a few spaced reports, heavier thumps compared to the sharp pops. One crash. Two. Three. Then the city falls silent once more.

The van itself is still heading toward the restaurant, though it's a back alley approach. Main roads are avoided, but to those lurking above… There's a brown fan with a couple of new holes in it coming near.

Back in the restaurant…

The suited Italian turns toward one of his lackeys, his voice pitched low. "Do you see the financial power waiting beyond these doors? Billions of dollars, spanning the globe, and they have all come here tonight because of me." He interrupts himself to glance at the time. "They will be arriving soon. Make sure they know we are here."

The other man dips his head and silently steps out.

Seconds later a single pale orange light comes to life in the alley behind the restaurant, right where the van appears to be heading.

"Heilige Kuh," says Kurt to himself, hearing the gun fire, the thumps the end of the whining bikes. As for who is in a gang, who isn't in a gang, and the difference; he has no clue. If Blackout has a good spot on him, he'll see him disappear, reappaer closer to the ground. He is heading towards the bike, towards the van too by proximity, but more towards the bikes.

Intent on going there to see if the injured need help, not judging them as good or bad, not knowing really and no time to find out. He might keep going to see who's fallen back there but then there is an orange light coming to life behind the alley. Not knowing what it is, Kurt heads to the middle of all this. That van with the new holes in it. Its the medium between bikes and orange light.

Foolish, he should just go see who's injured, get them some help, go on his way. No, he goes to the van instead. Though he doesn't jump on it, so no thumb, just a bamf where he was and the next moment, he's clinging to the van as it moves towards that light. More on its back side to be out of site he hopes, but curiousity gets the best of Nightcrawler. He'll see what this is, then go check on the bikers.

Gunshots add further annoyment to the demeanor of Blackout. His neck turns from that of Kurt to the direction of the approaching van. Blackout mutters with a sour taste in his mouth, "Gotham.".

Blackout looks both ways down the street. Checking for occupied/moving vehicles that the van may collide with as it ejects itself from the alleyway. Blackout is no hero, but he's not inclined to allow innocents to be harmed if he's able to do something about it.

If there are oncoming vehicles, Blackout will open a portal in front of the mouth of the alleyway to allow the van to drive inside.

If there are no oncoming vehicles, he will watch the scene unfold unmolested.

Checking on the bikers would reveal that there aren't any survivors, though there is a fair amount of wreckage left behind. Someone got them out of the picture, and quickly.

As for the van, no one knows of the extra passenger stuck to the top of it when it comes rolling up to the back alley. No other cars seem to be involved, or in the way of its arrival, however. Two people are already waiting at the restaurant's loading dock, one of them promptly dropping his jaw as he sees the state of their delivery vehicle. He comes rushing over before the van has a chance to stop, near frantically rapping on the window until it gets rolled down.

"What on Earth happened?! Is the cargo okay? Tell me the cargo is okay!"

"Relax, buddy. Cargo's fine. You ready to hold up your end of the deal?"

Yes..yes, of course," the tuxedo-clad gentleman says before lightly clapping soft white gloved hands together. As if casting a summoning spell a few more individuals step out and head to the back of the van, opening the doors in order to reach for a couple of plain aluminum containers, each about the size of a large cooler.

He can be gone at any moment as the van rolls forward, doing so might give some clue he was there at all, but that curiousity itches at the back of his mind. He can't stay on the back, he can only edge in the shadows, to stay out of the light and away from the moving bodies summoned from within the building. Nightcrawler still has no clue what he's in or amongst. If its just moving weapons, he won't care too much, drugs, he doesn't care. Mafia can do their thing, it happens, he can't stop it.

Not knowing any of that though, he remains curious. Whatever is in those containers is probably something pretty cool if three bikers were taken out trying to get at this van itself. So he lingers in the shadows, if the top of the van was best to stay out of sight, that's where he stayed, but if he needed to move about the side and get underneath, so he has done.

Now there is something that's important. Blackout tunes the mic in the direction of the cargo van and loading dock. This will give him plenty of information. Or so he hopes. He questions quietly to himself, "What might be in those containers? They're going to want samples."

Then Blackout spies Kurt atop the van and smiles.

With the Blue Bamfer as close to the action as he is, there is one thing stepping out of the van which he will easily recognize.

Domino had been driving. ..And maybe a little more than that, if the pistol she retrieves from the dashboard is any indication.

"-Please- Miss, there is no need to have such ..implements being so blatantly exposed!"

"What, worried I'm gonna upset your clientele?" she asks with a lopsided grin.

The van's passenger remains seated inside, calling out "Quit screwin' around with the upper crust, Dom. Schedules to keep!"

"And this is why I like to work alone," Dom says with a sigh as, with overly exaggerated motions, she pops the sidearm back into its shoulder holster. Looking back to Mister Tux with a flick of her head to brush some errant hair out of her eyes, she presses "Make good or we make gone."

Without any additional words of complaint Mr. Tux pulls two envelopes out from inside of his coat. His attention remains on the unloading bits of cargo above everything else, however. It'd seem he's very, very concerned about even the smallest amount of visual damage any of the four cases might have sustained.

"If the cargo is damaged in any way-"

"Yes, I know, 'we'll be hearing from your boss,' stop being a spaz and get that crap out of here," Dom intervenes while flinging one of the envelopes to the van's passenger.

Not that he knows anyone is noticing him, because if that was the case, Kurt my look and smile in a 'hello mom' sort of fashion. He doesn't have time to look around to see though, because there is a familiar voice in his ears, or close to them, as she steps out of the. Ah, this completely changes the ball game. Its not just an odd van with bullet holes (ORV … Bullet Holes!), but there is someone he knows who stepped out. No wait, that doesn't change anything. Though, she is taking a thick envelope from them and Kurt does highly suscpet this isn't this weeks coupons for a big couponing scheme where they get 500 rolls of Bounty and actually makes the store pay them 2 dollars too with all the brilliant couponing they have done.

Still, it doesn't change much, other than the fact that Domino is a part of this. He might like to say something to her about this, but these are some of her peers, it could cost her her some money, so for the moment, he remains still. Maybe when the van moves away from the restaurant, but not until then.

Through his binoculars Blackout spies the albino with the spot. He groans and mutters to himself, "We have to stop meeting like this… in fact, stop meeting altogether. Now, what to do?"

Blackout opens a portal to his immediate left. A small one, no more than 1' in diameter. He then tosses all his gear into the portal and will close the portal the moment after - storage. He's decided that he needs to step away and report this in.

Behind Blackout, another portal forms and he backs into it. He will traverse through the darkforce dimension and back to the Helicarrier where he will report to his handler so decisions can be made, and made fast regarding the containers and what he's seen.

Inside the restaurant:

"They have arrived. Everything is in order."

The Italian man presses his hands together in delight. "Then let this evening's festivities commence. Tonight shall be my finest moment."

Upon seeing that yes, all of the containers are accounted for and -not full of holes,- breathes a visible sigh of relief. "We thank you for your services and shall keep you in mind for any future dealings."

"Yeah, cheers," Domino says back while climbing behind the wheel and pulling the heavy (and somewhat perforated) door closed. "Enjoy your ill-gotten goods."

"Miss, I assure you we would not be dealing in such-"

"Save it," she cuts him off with a bland smile, one arm draped over the windowframe as she starts backing the van out of the alley. "I really don't care."

The passenger cares about something else, himself. "When am -I- gonna get to drive, huh?"

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