2017.01.06 - Cold Comfort
Winter in Gotham is like a city-wide funeral, with long harsh silences. So it is tonight, the crime-ridden Bowery quiet for once under the harsh conditions. A few souls no doubt up to no good scurry through the mist. Robin the Teen Wonder stands on a building ledge, the youth obviously not at 100% - he leans heavily on the brick wall, and there is a stiffness to his movements that is normally never present. He sweeps the area with a radio scanner, the other hand holding a bud firmly in his ear to see if he picks up any signals.
"What's on the airwaves, Bird-Boy?" Right now, the archer known as Speedy is questioning his acceptance of the invitation to tag along on one of Robin's patrols. But it's winter, it's cold, and he certainly doesn't want his buddy to be lonely in the night. Especially after all the crazy lately.
Not that it's too different from the usual crazy, in Gotham City. Every day's pretty crazy. It's different, with nutjobs and their gangs vying for control of the streets, under and over, and everything they have to offer.
Standing on the rooftop next to the ledge, with one foot propped on the side, Roy casually polishes one of his magnesium flare arrows.
It concerns Speedy, but he knows better than to fuss and fawn. After all, he's got the cool guy look to maintain. "So what are the entries? Maybe we should check the specific places, right? I've got all night. Not like we're going out to the clubs or anything, right?" He breaks into a bright, broad grin, showing those pretty teeth.
Robin's sour repression softens in the face of his friend's exuberant smile and he has to smile as well. He puts a comradely hand on Roy's broad shoulder, nodding at the arguement. "OK, good idea; let's at least intimidate some bookies before we call it a night," he says. He unclips his grapple gun and fires it off, swinging up and over, then down to the street level. He stumbles a little as he lands, almost slipping in the ice on the cracked pavement. He grouses a little as he retracts the line and pulls his cape a little tighter against the wind.
"Yeah." Roy chuckles as he fires off his swingline too, stowing his arrows and quickly getting to street level. Sure, that was his idea...intimidate bookies. Not go to clubs with Dick or anything. Man! He could have made *so* many people jealous. And he's missing out. But maybe it's not that...mercenary. Maybe he's feeling something more? Nah.
Nah, can't be. "Where do we start? We could just call it a day, y'know. You got some pretty happening places in this town. Lot warmer than this."
Robin shoots a warm smile at his teammate and friend. "Dude, this is important stuff, OK?" He looks out into the dark and then back to Roy. "I couldn't do much dancing right now, anyway," he says. Yet, he's out climbing buildings in the middle of the night. He pauses, cutting his eyes back to the other masked youth. "Not to say it's not tempting. This costume is not that great in the winter.." he jokes.
"I know, I know!" Roy throws his hands up. "Sheesh. You can scamper around in that, but you can't go dancing, huh?" Grinning again, even if he had to force it slightly, he bumps his hip with Robin's. "So. You lead the way. I'll just do the sidekick thing. For you. If you can deal with that, Mr. Sidekick."
Robin laughs at the hip bump, even if doing that causes him to wince slightly. "I can, sidekick," he says, as he leads the way to the first address on his list, a seedy pawn shop that shouldn't be open this late but is - the few customers standing around scatter as the costumed boys enter, leaving only the owner. The man sticks out his lip as the Teen Wonders approach. "Whaddayawan?" he growls.
Robin leans on the man's counter, staring the man down. "You took several large shipments from the Iceberg Lounge last week," he says.
"Yeah, I got a lot of old furniture - they're renovatin'. All perfectly legal, birdboy," the man sneers.
Speedy moves with Robin, sensing the motion and backing him up physically. He really projects a more massive presence than he actually has, a significant sign of his expertise in sidekicking. About as good as Robin! There's a reason why they work so well together: somebody gets to take the fore, and the other is always good at backing him up. He doesn't speak, but his posture says all he needs to communicate.
Robin frowns at the man, and nods. There's some more tough back-and-forth, but the Caped Crusader doesn't push matters. Finally he nods to the man once more and departs with Speedy. "OK, that was interesting," he mutters as they walk down the street to the second listing; it's the only other near one, the others being much further into the Bowery than their current location. "I tell you what - this doesn't pan out. I'll change, and we go to a club. OK with you, sidekick?" he says with a quirked smile.
"Fine with me," Roy answers, sticking close and keeping an eye out around them. Sure as clockwork, there always seem to be thugs running up when people get a little too close to the truth. "So what *are* we looking for? I know the Penguin's involved and there's been some stuff changing hands. But what's the story, morning glory? What's the word, Boy-Bird?" Grin spreading, he throws an arm around Robin's shoulders. "You can talk to me!"
Robin smiles and leans in as they walk down the street, the youth actually letting Roy partially support him as he stumbles once. "Penguin was involved in moving a lot of diamonds, but he's only sold a small portion - he's holding onto the rest for another buyer, but we can't find out who. The accountant, he had a list of all Penquin's recent transactions, and we have his notebook. So we're trying to decipher which of the transactions are related to the diamond theft. He's planning /something/ but what is... well, he's being uncharacteristically quiet about that. Usually we can rely on him to run his big mouth, building himself up, but... not this time. Which means there's probably someone else involved, someone Penguin respects or fears enough to keep quiet. Or they just paid him enough - he's absolutely in this for the money." The youth takes a deep breath. "SO, the reason we're out here freezing to death is that there are some weird entries related to, of all things the Gotham Zoo. And some lead here," he says, and he rounds the corner to the next destination. And it's equally seedy, but.. it's a pet store.
"Okay, we're either gonna find out something here, or I'm gonna toss you over my shoulder and carry your bird-butt back to the Batcave." Speedy gives a light rub to Robin's shoulder, where his hand rests. He's happy to support him leaning, even with most of his weight, and won't mention that he can tell. And he can totally tell. He's sensitive to the application of weight, posture, and all the other influences on movement, even if most of the time he only applies it in a fight.
Once they get to the store, Speedy moves again behind Robin, to back him up, to move with the Boy Wonder taking the decisive lead.
The store is run-down, and only a handful of actually pets appear to be present - a couple of tired cats, some cheap birds, and lizards. Again the exchange is terse and brief, the woman behind the counter close-mouthed and the young crimefighter asking her tough questions. But finally she produces a sheaf of invoices and Robin sifts through them. Then he nods and thanks her for her cooperation. He turns and leaves, the wind billowing his cape out as they exit. "OK, that was productive," he says with a tight smile as they head back to where the youth stored his Robin-cycle. He raises an eyebrow at Speedy, as if daring him to ask 'wtf?'.
Speedy does give him a *look*, but he climbs onto the cycle and slides his arms around Robin, getting ready to go. "Okay, spill. What's the story? Didn't look like that woman was particularly benefiting off the Penguin or anyone else. You look like you've got some kinda trail of breadcrumbs." He scoots close, pressing his front to Robin's back and squeezing his arms, gentle and careful of any injury, around the Boy Wonder.
Robin closes his eyes, feeling the warmth and closeness of his best friend, his strength and solidity. He sighs, letting all that sink in. "The first guy told us the Iceberg Lounge is renovating, but there are no purchases for new stuff, only the disposal of the old - he's clearing out a substantial space under the Lounge for whatever this involves. Pet store - she spent time in jail a few years ago for illegal exotic animals sales involving an overseas buyer. Her invoices show she's still involved in that - nobody needs those kinds of dietary supplements for normal animals." He guns the motorcycle and they roar off into the night, the youth expertly threading this area's narrow streets and numerous potholes or other navigational hazards.
This information makes Speedy fall into a contemplative quiet. He eases against Robin, going through the information in his mind. A short time after they've set out, he finally speaks, a little louder and sharper to be heard through the moving wind around them. "So you think maybe...he's going to do something freaky with like...a shark tank or something? Dispose of some enemies, maybe?"
"It would fit with his theme, certainly but there's another angle - several payments to the Gotham Zoo, and some involvement with the big annual fundraiser there soon. He's planning something for that, we're sure of it. There's a lot of different possibilities, though," the Teen Wonder says as they leave the Bowery and cross into better parts of town. He turns and heads towards the entertainment district, and some of the clubs that cater to younger teens, still going strong even at this hour. He slows and finds a secure place to park the bike. "You put your civies in the cycle compartment, right?" he says as he looks back at Speedy, leaning back against the strong youth.
"Uh. I think? I think so, yeah." Speedy sits up against Robin and lingers there for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. Then he hops up, reaching down to help haul Robin off the bike and to his feet. "So, this a hoppin' place? You been here before?" Staying close by, he presses up against Robin, side to side, to keep him standing and not at risk of pitching down to the pavement, all icy and frigid...and quite dense. No need to add to those bruises and bumps.