Tonnage

Bane?

>>

“So, My uncle was wondering if you people might want to give me a hand making another suit for if I need to get serious again. We knew it wasn't going to stop bullets, but we didn't expect it to get shredded like it was.”

He brings this up while he is laying hot dogs on the grill. Only Robin, Spoiler, and Orphan showed up today, but all three perk up a bit when he says that. Spoiler tries to respond, but Robin beats her to it.

“Batman mentioned getting together and making a suit for you geared toward search and rescue, with maybe an eye to hazardous environment retrieval.” At Tom's look, the tween shrugs. “You are strong enough to carry a lot of survival gear, and you can survive an awful lot of physical trauma. Sending you into areas that are in various ways unstable should be much safer than emergency services.”

Spoiler speaks up with a light chuckle at the look on Tom's face. “I know B has a reputation for not being a fan of metas in Gotham, and it's true to a point. But the reality is that his problem tends to be with metas who are too violent, and who go looking for trouble. Who get people killed, and muddy up his investigations into what the real problem is.”

She shrugs, making her chest do very interesting things that cause Tom to lower his eyes for a millisecond. Steph smirks. Apparently, loosening the straps a touch when they were done sparring was worth it. She isn't sure if she is really interested or not, but Tom needs to learn to talk to girls somehow and she's willing to lend a hand.

“You don't do those things. You just prep in case it happens and get on with your life. Honestly, if all metas had your attitude he'd be inviting them in. Remember, most of his... Coworkers in the league are metas or aliens or supernatural whatever or what have you. He doesn't have a problem with metas. He has a problem with meddling from people who aren't willing to learn how to do it right.”

Orphan signs to him quickly, forcing him to stare at her fingers to make it out. He's getting better, but the few lanterns they set out for this don't offer a surplus of light.

'We bring it up to B and see what can be done. For now, is there anything you need?'

Tom takes a moment to parse that and then smiles. “Honestly, I'm sure you'd have a better idea on that front than I do. Before I was just worried about breathing and fire. So far the only thing that's hurt me was a cutting torch that...” He blushes a touch. “I... Well, I don't feel pain so I left it on my thigh for maybe half a minute or something. Got a blister, and it went a bit red. Healed by morning, but my uncle wants fireproofing. Other than that, just air tanks. Most of the rest of it was there because we could more than anything else.” He turns back to the grill, pulling the big beef dogs off of the grill and into buns as he goes. Six for him, and the other six for them to share. “I'm not Superman by any stretch, but I can carry around a lot and not care too much.”

Robin accepts his paper plate with grace, though he does look somewhat disgustedly at what is on it. Tom doesn't take offense. He'd figured out pretty quickly that Robin was a prickly kid, but one that was likely to berate a person for risking life and limb while he was practically throwing his own away to save them from their folly. It doesn't always make him easy to work with.

But to Tom, it makes him worth it.

“Your old suit was exceptionally low-tech. It had few capabilities, though the ones it had were well thought out given your abilities and theoretical weaknesses. In addition, while the variety was lacking, your bringing the volume of resources that you can is impressive. Very useful. But we can do much better than that for you. I'll speak to people and see what I can find out.”

Spoiler looks at Tom curiously. “It sounds like your skin is more fire resistant than the heat-proof material you used, I think we can find better for you. Also, we can add quite a bit to the capabilities in your pack and your recording equipment.” She turns to Orphan. “He doesn't have any ability like the Kryptonians do to protect their suits naturally. Thoughts?”

There is silence for a few moments, and then Orphan's fingers move.

'We could ask Plastic Man what his suit is made out of. Assuming he actually wears one.'

The silence stretches out a bit as all three consider the possibilities and then shudder.

Spoiler gags just slightly. “Maybe we keep that as a last resort...”

>>

A second and a half of inattention. Barely more than the time it took to turn his head.

That same head is aching now, and he doesn't know exactly where he is. But he can hear the beep, and that makes his mind race. He sits up and sees the doctor in the asylum infirmary already making his way over.

“Doc, where is he? Please don't tell me that miserable bastard got loose again.”

The older gentleman peruses his chart briefly, then hangs it back on the hook, addressing the large, tough-as-nails black man that he's patched up many times before. “Good morning, Cash. Glad you are feeling better. We'll have to see about getting some paperwork done soon...”

“What happened to my men, Doc? Where is Croc?”

The doctor looks at Cash with a great degree of sadness and empathy, but he does sigh and answer. “After he knocked you out and did some damage to your crew, he searched pockets for the keys to get to the roof and dove into the bay. Given who he is, he's long gone I'm sure. None of your men are dead. But two of them won't be working here anymore.”

The doctor's eyes flicker down to Cash's own arm, where he is sporting a hook. Croc had done a number on him a few years previously during a prison riot.

Aaron Cash attempts to stand and his headache he'd been fighting since he awoke hops back to the front like an evil champ, causing him to clench his eyes shut.

“Calm down, Aaron. There's nothing you can do at this point. You were hurt on the job during an escape, so you'll be taking a couple of weeks off anyway. Don't stress too much. We've already contacted the GCPD, and you know that light was on within a minute. Heck, I've been in here keeping an eye on you. For all I know, the guy could already be back in a cell somewhere waiting to get processed.”

Cash gives him a look that plainly says he doesn't believe it, and the old doctor can't find it in his heart to speak to the look.

They both know that chances are good they'll see Croc again only after something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

>>

Oracle: Hood, be advised. Croc pulled a swan dive off the roof of the asylum after beating the hell out of a quartet of guards. We're going to need to establish some surveillance near Tom's place in case Jones decides to go for some kind of payback.

Hood: Don't get me wrong, he's a nice enough kid. But I'm not sure he needs the assist, and I am sure I am busy. Get one of the Robins to do it.

Oracle: I am sending Red Robin down to do the technical work, he's on his way from the cave with what he needs. I just need you to escort him and assist. B still doesn't want any of us solo in the alley or I wouldn't have needed to bother you at all. What has you busy?”

There is a pause for a few seconds.
Hood: Something is going on. Somebody is playing musical chairs with the property in the alley. A bunch of it has been changing hands for the last few months, and I got a whiff that Penguin might be behind it, or at least taking advantage of it. Not sure what is going on, and he obviously isn't as bad as some of the WMD players in the Rogues. But he's bad enough to get my attention.

Oracle: You know that B is investigating P. Any reason not to bring this up?

Hood: First off I only confirmed late last night. And second, why the hell would I go out of my way to be scowled at by the old man when I can just deal with it myself?

B: You know I can access this.

Hood: Yes. Yes, I do.

There is a pause for a good fifteen seconds as all three of them are struggling to figure out where to go from here. Finally, somebody speaks.

Hood: Fine, B. This is what I have so far. Fourteen industrial plots have changed hands, most of which are on the shore, and the LLC that is buying them up is called 'BWB' which seems to stand for 'Black and White Buyouts.' Still purchasing places too. I've been doing some recon in the various locations. Nothing so far, but that lunatic is too smart to be buying up Crime Alley as an investment property. There has to be something that I'm missing. Some reason for buying up all this land.

B: He could be looking for something under that part of the city. Perhaps he's trying to relocate or secure something from before his last stint in prison.

Oracle: He could be doing it as investment properties, actually. Remember, the rogues are at least half the reason the Alley has gone down so far, it would stand to reason that the rogues would have the easiest time of it simply by stopping what they are doing that drives prices down in the first place.

There is silence for a few seconds, and then Batman responds.
B: The only way that makes sense is if Penguin has some way to get the other rogues to stop as well.

Oracle: B... You don't think Cobblepot would go that far, do you?

B: Oswald Cobblepot is a mess of pride, psychosis, hatred, and malice. Given the proper circumstances, I can believe him capable of nearly anything. Red Robin and Spoiler can handle the surveillance. Spoiler is already on site along with Robin and Orphan. Hood, we are going to have to work things out because I am not letting you go solo into this. I don't like any of it.
…
…
… Hood: Fine. I wasn't a hundred percent comfortable with it either. I'll throw on the alternate suit and meet you at the water tower over Eighteenth and Pines.

>>

It's Tuesday morning at half past eight when things get odd again for Tom. He's just left his tent, coverall on so he can head over to the shop where his uncle will have breakfast ready. As soon as he moves the tent flap though, his eyes open wide.

He is not alone. There is a very large and enormously muscled man standing there. A full colorful mask and strange hoses that go directly into his body make identification easy.

“Um. Bane? Why are you here?” He shakes his head once as if to clear it. “I'm sorry, Mr Bane. You surprised me. Were you looking for anything specific?”

The man seems to regard him carefully for a moment. “You are Thomas, the Thomas that recently stopped Two-Face?”

Tom nods, looking carefully around. “Yes, but he was killing people. So I don't feel too bad about things.”

The man is looking at him more and more curiously as the seconds tick by. Finally, he shrugs. “You are sixteen, is this correct?”

Tom nods. “Yeah. Birthday is in October.”

“I watched the newscasts you were in. You truly don't care as long as people are not being hurt in front of you?”

Tom shrugs himself. “Well, yeah. If I want to be a cop when I get out of school, I'll make that happen. Right now I just want to get through school.”

The enormous man, the first Tom has met that is anywhere near his size in some time, sits on the trunk of a long-deceased car. “Can you think of any reason that Penguin would want you dead? I do not like the killing of children, and that is what you are despite your meta status.”

Tom's face pales to white. “N-No! I've never even met the guy!”

The luchador considers for a moment. “Have you been in contact with any other rogues?”

Tom shrugs. “Black Mask and I have a deal where he leaves me alone and I stop mutilating his thugs. Other than that nothing comes to mind.”

Bane frowns. “What are the specifics of this deal?”

“He doesn't come within two or three blocks of the yard, and his people don't hurt anybody in front of me.”

Bane rolls his eyes. “I will pay you a thousand dollars to simply stay home on Thursday. That will solve many problems I suspect for the annoying bird, and will enable this event he has planned to go without trouble.” At Tom's look of concern, Bane waves a hand. “He has some auction planned. Nothing particularly illegal or dangerous, but he has decided that you could be a liability. You say you will stay here, and I will make a few calls. I can't promise the fool won't contract for your death through another, so I would be wary were I you.” Bane looks at him speculatively. “I may be back in a few years. With seasoning, you could be an impressive sparring partner. I have so few of those that can offer me a true challenge these days.”

With that, the impressive individual simply walks away. Hopping over the fence, he disappears. Still a little shaky from the encounter, Tom pulls out his phone.

“Gordon here. What's up, Tom?”

“Well, sir, remember when you said that threats from the Rogues should be reported immediately?”

Gordon's voice drops into a growl. “Fill me in, son.”

>>

Oracle: ALL HANDS ON DECK. BANE IS CONFRONTING TOM.

Signal: Bane? I am not in any way feeling up to tackling that nutbar.

Nightwing: Good call. I'm on my way.

Red Robin: It'll take me at least twenty minutes to cover the distance on the bike.

Robin: ETA twelve minutes.

Spoiler: Are they fighting?

Orphan: (Typed Into Phone.) What else would they be doing?

Oracle: Talking. They are done, Bane is leaving. But setting up that phone we gave him as a listening device paid off. I don't have the whole picture yet, but I think we need to have another meeting today. I recorded the conversation. But Bane was talking about some kind of auction that Penguin was running and that he thought Tom might interfere with his venue.

B: Oracle, try to keep Bane in sight. Nobody approaches him. Nobody is anywhere without a partner. With both Croc and Bane in town, plus the probability that others will show up for this auction, Gotham is likely to be more dangerous for a while.

The rest of the Bat-Family don't have anything to say back to that, and as a unit, they begin their investigation.