Gotham Nights - Don't Say a Word

While Cheshire's mind was busy in detective mode, Gem's was still amazed by the fact that she was actually doing this. This was more terrifying than the time she nearly got partnered with Terry McGinnis for a school project. And she had been scared out of her mind!

Gem did as instructed to the best of her ability, double checking and confirming that the people in the building besides themselves were still lethargic while she was at it. It'd be bad if they weren't, after all, and she did not want to run the risk of something bad happening because she messed up. Hopefully there weren't any more robots around. She couldn't sense those, nor use her power on them. What had happened to that robot before, anyway?

She shook her head, attempting to focus. Now was not the time to be distracted.

Gem would soon learn that distraction and preparation were two different things. Cheshire moved forward, standing up a little straighter as he did so. There was nobody left in their path, and his movements were still as quiet as can be. It was then that his sensors reacted in a manic nature. Heat, electromagnetic fields, all of them firing at once. They formed into a single figure on his HUD, displaying a gargantuan mass about to turn the corner.

Ace.

Cheshire turned without a moment to spare, grabbing Gem and cupping her mouth to avoid any location-revealing noise. He flashed into the closest room, pressing himself and Gem against the wall behind the door. He took a soft breath, calming his nerves. He hadn't even thought about Ace being there. So the bat had either let him slip, or the Gang had found him and put him back together. Either way, if their mission was going to be successful, they'd have to slip by undetected, and the halls were now out of the question.

Gem instinctively tensed at the contact, but luckily for the both of them stayed silent. Had Cheshire's hands not been gloved, it would have been another story entirely. As it was, Gem just forced herself to relax with a soundless exhale.

She'd seen a glimpse of Ace before rounding the corner, so she wasn't too surprised by the sudden change of direction. Still, it was rather ironic that the moment she'd started thinking about robots, and that one in particular, it appeared.

Stupid Murphy.

Gen raised an eyebrow at Cheshire, asking without words what to do next. She wasn't the expert on this, after all.

Cheshire held off until Ace had made his rounds, stomping down the hall. He listened for the robot, waiting until he had determined a corner was turned. He let go of Gem, walking out into the room. He scanned along the walls, hoping that he could find something, anything..........

Bingo.

An air vent just large enough for both of them to move through sat in the wall. Old Gotham architecture had them, and the timing couldn't have been better. Cheshire gripped the vent cover, pulling it with some force to bend the frame and remove it from the vent itself. He turned, motioning to Gem, then crouched down and disappeared into the vent system.

Gem could have laughed. Vents again? Didn't she just swear never to follow strangers, particularly those going into vents, just a few days ago? So much for that promise. At the very least the string of ironic events was helping her to calm down a bit. Though she knew all that would be thrown out the window soon enough.

So, mentally laughing at the irony all the way, Gem followed the man into the vent again.

The vent had moved exactly how Cheshire had expected, down through a few rooms and then up at an angle. It would lead them directly into the chambers of the king and queen. A perfect route past the mechanized meathead walking below and right to their goal. He started up the slope, distributing his weight properly to avoid sliding down and causing a racket.

Gem followed Cheshire's lead, allowing her mind to wander a bit. Quite frankly she was astounded by the fact that she had yet to mess something up. While she was in no way a klutz, Murphy often seemed to have a personal vendetta against her. Her Irish luck was useless more often than not.

The teen stopped that train of thought as fast as she could, knowing that thinking about it would make it happen. There was so much irony happening tonight that she'd be more surprised if it didn't happen. And that was something Gem did NOT want.

With another shake of her head to focus, Gem continued on.

Cheshire had stopped short of the vent cover, leering out from the spaces in the metal. The darkness in the room was thick, but not enough for the sensors in his visor. He scanned the room, the vast space crudely expanded by the smashing of walls, rubble left where it landed. That didn't matter, though. The piles could be easily avoided with enough care. What he searched for was a desk, a table, anything that could house documentation. That's all he needed. It would come into sight exactly where he didn't want it to be........past the bed in which the King and Queen were sleeping. A stack of milk crates, a place fitting for the grunts, laced in newspapers and trash, but the goal was in sight. A folder, just as they had described to him. That's what they needed.

Cheshire gripped the vent cover tightly, placing forced upon the joints and snapping the bolts that held it in place. He slid the cover to the side, slipping out into the room. He turned back, allowing the motionless eyes of his mask to meet Gem's, as if to insist that she kept the sleeping royalty asleep. Before moving, He reached into his jacket, removing from it a small black box, placing it on the ground. Without saying another word he pushed on, moving as quickly and as quietly as he could. He just needed that folder.

Though Gem didn't exactly understand what had been meant by Cheshire's 'gaze', she guessed it was something along the lines of 'be very very very careful'. Once the gunman got out of the vent she could see why. Not only were the two human gang members left in this room, which she had been able to tell, but the floor was littered with...well, litter. It would be easy to trip and fall if she wasn't careful.

Deciding not to risk it, Gem slipped out of the vent, avoiding the box that Cheshire had placed. She wondered briefly what it was, but derailed the train of thought before she could get too sidetracked. Staying where she was, Gem concentrated on the feelings she was sending the sleeping cards, allowing Cheshire to do whatever it was they meant to.

Cheshire moved through the darkened room like he was a part of the shadows themselves, his footsteps silently stopping down between spaces through the rubble and rubbish left by years of the building being forgotten, and days of their new hosts. The masked man stopped, his head turning on a pivot as if it was attached to his head on a swivel. He eyed the two other bodies left within the room, laid upon a tattered bed. The King and The Queen, the monarchs of the Royal Flush Gang, lulled down by the....coincidence his young associate had placed upon them. for a moment, his hand hesitated over his gun. He could do it. He could do it right now, so fast that neither of them would know, but the pulse of gunfire would surely trigger the wrath of the mechanized behemoth just a floor below. He choose against it, picking the mission at hand as the more crucial objective.

Cheshire snuck to the desk, retrieving the folder he had set his eyes on. He clutched the item in his hands, flipping through with his thumb, not enough to read the contents but know that they were there. He scanned the wall behind the desk, snatching a few papers pinned to it without much thought. This would be enough.

The masked man turned to Gem, placing a single finger to his "lips" to caution silence, then motioned to one of the boarded up windows. The time to leave was now.

Gem's concentration wavered at the sight of Cheshire's hand over their gun. She took in a deep, silent breath, out of fear or preparation to scream she wasn't sure, but she let it out soundlessly when they decided against whatever they had been planning to do with it. Though it wasn't to hard to imagine what they would have done.

With a quick prayer to whoever might be listening that she'd never ever ever have to deal with firearms, the girl redoubled her focus on the King and Queen before she noticed Cheshire motioning to her. Must have gotten whatever they wanted. Quietly as she could manage she made her way over to them, careful to avoid all the debris on the ground. When she got to the window she looked at Cheshire curiously. While she didn't doubt she could keep the sleeping royals out of commission so long as she concentrated, wouldn't breaking old wooden boards probably be enough to alert Ace if it was close?

Well, they were the boss.

Cheshire slipped over to the window with his phantom-like being, taking one moment to soak in the silence, awaiting any disturbance that would signal the arrival of the last thing they would want walking into that room. In this case drawing the ace would be the worst play. He reached down to his lower leg, removing the knife from it's home and taking it into a tight grip. He leaned into the wall, wedging the knife between the cracks where the nail passed through the board and into the building. He sliced once, the blade cutting into the nail with a slight ring. Cheshire stopped, awaiting a reaction. There was none. Satisfied, he began to work faster. One by one, the nails were severed, the boards falling from their location down, plummeting tens of stories down and smacking the ground below.

Without asking her a second, Cheshire snatched gem, and leaped out of the window. As he did, he turned, catching one last glance at the black box he had left on the floor. The two fell for a few seconds, their speed growing faster and faster. Cheshire didn't move, just looked down at the ground growing closer.

Gem would have screamed had her voice not caught in her throat, but her mind was screaming in spades to make up for it. Was Cheshire crazy?! Well, that might have been a stupid question, but why were they jumping out the gosh darn window that had to have a drop that was at least thirty stories high?! Stairs were made for a reason dangit, and it wasn't true that cats always landed on their feet! Or had nine lives! And even if they were true, she wasn't one of them!

Concentration broken completely and utterly, Gem stared at the fast approaching ground with terror and a small bit of thrill. She had to wonder if the criminal was infecting her with insanity already with that last emotion.

At what seemed to be the last second, Cheshire shot his arm out, a grappling hook firing from the device latched onto his wrist. The spear-like tip cracked through the wall of another building, spreading out and taking hold once it did. The duo swung, Cheshire holding out his feet until he touched down lighter than one would expect. As he did, the grappling hook began to reel them both in, Cheshire walking up the side of the building. As he reached the top, Cheshire kicked off, flipping over the edge and landing on the roof, setting Gem down safely as he did so. He retracted the grappling line, wasting no more time and opening the folder. His....err, "eyes" never left the pages.

"You did well, kid. Went off without a hitch, and now we just.....might....have...."

He stopped on a page, pausing for a long time. A breeze off of the sea rolled in, whispering to the ears words they could not understand. He stood statuesque, but a single, warped series of words came from Cheshire in an instant.

"What we came for."

He looked up to the young girl.

"Bank information."

Gem took a moment to appreciate the fact that she was alive before replying. "Bank...?" She asked before she stopped herself there, though she was curious to know more. Ignorance was probably bliss in this case. Not only did it seem pretty unlikely that Cheshire would tell her any more than that to begin with, it was probably outright dangerous for her to know anything more, for both Cheshire and herself. All Gem needed to do was what she was told until they let her go, and that was it.

If they ever let her go.

The girl forced that thought away. "I'm...glad you found your information." She said instead of inquiring further, though even she wasn't entirely sure if she was being honest.

"They aren't from Derek Powers....."

Cheshire spoke blatantly, cutting to the point. This was the break they needed. Derek Powers had been the one behind those bandages that night, but he wasn't. His finger prints covered the scene, but they were not his. This man, or woman, or whatever had found a way to replicate, to be two people at once.

And they were good.

"A transfer of one-hundred thousand dollars from the bank account of one Jarred Savage. Savage, Savage....."

Cheshire moved two fingers to the side of his mask, placing them right where his ears would be.

"You're free to go, kid. This won't be the last time we meet, but there's some work to be done before the show can begin."

Gem nodded once. "Okay. Um, have a good night." She told them before she turned on her heel and ran back for her home. The girl still felt more than a little in shock of what had just happened. She had just helped a thief break into a building and steal documents! Holy tap dancing kittens, who did that?!

Her, apparently, but it was sinking in slowly. It didn't fully hit her until she was on the roof of her own building. When it did, Gem fell to her hands and knees, shaking too much to stand anymore. Her breath came shallow and fast, too fast, and she knew that she was close to hyperventilating. Gem forced a wave of calmness over herself so should could breathe properly. The effects never stuck to her, but it was enough if she repeated it until she could take her mind off that night's adventures.

The mew of a cat was what drew her away from those thoughts, strangely enough. Gem glanced up to see the cat that lived on their roof padding over to her until it could rub its face against her. When Gem didn't pat it, it reached up and pawed at her face, meowing insistently.

...Oh, what the heck. "O-Okay, Dinah." Gem said as she sat down properly and began to stroke the cat.

Dinah purred.

Cheshire watched as the girl ran away, keeping close watch as she disappeared into the night. She had to be away. She had to be far away. When he determined the coast to be clear, Cheshire pressed the fingers rested on his mask down, his communication functions activating, tracing back to the one other person he spoke with, the one who paid him. The voice that greeted him was stern, yet just as morphed as Cheshire's was.

"Are the documents secure?"

Cheshire eyed the folder in his gloved hand. Secure was an understatement. In the hands of Cheshire, the documents would cease to exist until the time was right.

"I have them in my possession as we speak. That girl was just as useful as we had predicted. All was calm."

There was a pause on the other end of the line set on as soon as "that girl" had been mentioned. It was almost as if the hesitation was set on by concern, even guilt for permitting such an underhanded tactic as using a high schooler to meet an end. Still, it was too late.

"Excellent, now we have to move to phase three. What have you learned?"

"The Royal Flush Gang has recently been wired a sum of one-hundred grand from a man named Jarred Savage. Can you run intel on the name?"

"Can I run intel? Do you forget who I am?"

Another pause, as information sped through cyberspace between them in just a matter of moments. Whoever it was on the other side, they were good. Very good. Cheshire's visual display gained a new image, that of a middle-aged blonde man. On his shirt, the emblem of Wayne-Powers.

"Jarred Savage, former head of the chemical division of Wayne Enterprises, later Wayne-Powers. Seems his contract was terminated about the time of the major but out of the company, part of Powers clean slate initiative. He's been laying low ever since."

Cheshire nodded once. It made perfect sense.

"Motive and logical explanation. This Hush copycat knew where the right machinery would be, the right time to take it, and had the means to take on Powers' prints and face. He was going to ruin Powers' name and company simultaneously........it's beautiful, really."

Cheshire chuckled. It was that sick, twisted part of his mind that appreciated the artistically grotesque, and this revenge scheme was up there with the masterpieces.

"Cheshire, Powers is schedule to give a speech at the opening of Wayne-Powers' new chemical waste treatment facility in three days. You can bet Savage will be there. Take out the real powers in public so everyone can see, sneak into the night. Nobody would search for a thief they don't believe is alive, anymore."

"Right, will start planning the tea party right away. Oh, what will I wear?!"

He laughed again.

"Just do what you're paid to do, Cheshire. Remember, no loose strings. You know what would happen if this....partnership were to be tracked."

"Of course.....no loose strings...."

Cheshire turned his attention to the building he and Gem had just traversed moments ago, reaching into one of the pouches on his pants. From it he removed a small, black device. It beeped very softly, a red light flashing with every one. He flipped the top off with his thumb, revealing a button. With a press, the silence of the night burst into fiery chaos. A large explosion rocked the level of the King and Queen, go so far as to reach the lower levels as well! The building crashed down, then toppled over with a massive groan. The top half fell, smashing into the tops of four other buildings, all now an abandoned ruin of a former city. The flames of the explosion danced over the night, illuminating Cheshire's form.

"Phase three is now in effect."

One more guilty pause passed between them, before a sigh broke it.

"Affirmative. Get the job done, Cheshire.......Oracle, out."

Gem let out a sigh as she walked down the hall on her way to English. This was just not her week. Or month. Or even her year. Last night she had officially become an accomplice to a criminal, if not a criminal herself. Then she'd had another one of her strange stress dreams. Earlier that morning that trio of girls who kept getting trying for get to know her to confirm some rumors had cornered her AGAIN, so she'd panicked and made them disinterested, which she always hated to do. After that she remembered that there was going to be a partner project in one of her classes, which was just torture for her. Hopefully she'd get lucky and the teacher would forget about her again, but her Irish blood didn't seem to be working lately. And finally, she needed to apologize to Davey for missing the play. She was sad about that.

The girl let out another sigh as she entered the classroom and sat in her usual spot. At least it wasn't all bad. There had been no guns last night, and no deaths either. That was a good thing. A very good thing. Everything could have gone so much worse. Maybe her blood wasn't all bad? If that were the case she hoped it kept working.

Gem shook her head to clear it of her musings and pulled out her journal to begin writing about the daily prompt (a strange quote today) and waited for Davey to come to class.

The class continued on with their random ramblings, all speaking on stories that nobody outside of their own age groups or cliques would really care about. Boys, sports, reality television shows, and one girl speaking to her friends on how awesome it would be to fit into the "splicer" life. Cat ears were a big thing in Japan, anyway. Why not grow them yourself? Still, surprising by the absence, was the murmur of the explosion in old Gotham. It seemed to be true that what went on in the lost city, remained there. The GFD had taken to the scene quickly and only put out the flames, leaving the ruined building laying in that structural graveyard.

Parting through the sea of gossip was one red-headed video student, hands kept full with a camera in one, and a tripod in another. Davey Henderson stepped carefully through the aisle, finding his desk next to the nervous Irish girl like he had done before. He took his seat with a slump, not really saying much as he did. His eyes were baggy, darkened out from what one could only assume was a lack of sleep. He stared down at his desk for a moment, a sort of somber tint to his face. His mind was full, thoughts, feelings. Still, it wouldn't run him. Davey smiled, perhaps forced but still present, then turned to the girl.

"h-...."

He paused.

"Hey Gem."

Gem was rather concerned by Davey's tone of voice. From what she knew of him - though the number of times she'd spoken to him could be counted on one hand - he always seemed to be quite cheery. Now he didn't sound (or feel, for that matter) very happy at all. "H-Hello. A-Are you ok-kay? You sound ups-set." The girl remembered that she had to apologize to him. "It's n-not because I d-didn't c-come to the p-play, is it? I'm v-very s-sorry about that." She didn't think that was the cause, but it was better safe than sorry. She didn't really know how friendships worked, after all.

...Were they friends? She had to wonder. She'd expected him to sit next to her and talk to her. Almost wanted him to, even. They were cordial to each other, and he seemed to enjoy her company to some extent. Gem couldn't deny that she enjoyed his, terrifying as it was at the same time. Did that make them friends?

Gem realized she was treading a very thin, dangerous line.

But she set it aside for later.

Davey shook his head, wiping away his frown and replacing it with an even bigger smile. The bags under his eyes couldn't be removed so easily, but there were no traces of deeper sorrow, at least not on his face. He laughed a bit lightly, hoping to shed a little humor onto the situation.

"Oh no, no I'm fine. Just sleepy, is all. Been up all night planning a big project, needed to work up all the angles. Want to be able to film this from the best shots imaginable."

He yawned once, scratching the back of his head. Indeed, Davey Henderson was dedicated if nothing else to his craft. His biggest project to date was coming up, and he was well aware of the pay off the perfect video would produce.

"And I was wondering if you were there, or not. Honestly, I was going to come and find you to apologize! I was so busy with everything, I didn't even have time to come and find you!"

He laughed to himself again. The pep in Davey's step was still there, just held down by the mere minutes he had rested his eyes.

She relaxed a little, glad that he was okay. Maybe she had been misreading everything to begin with. Her powers did seem to be acting weird as of late. "I-I see. It sorta w-worked out for th-the b-best then, d-didn't it?" She finished what she was writing in her journal and closed it as she continued. "W-What project are y-you working on, i-if I m-may ask? Is it for M-Macbeth? And h-how w-was it, anyw-way?"

Davey's eyes lit up like the electric signs all over Gotham when Macbeth had been mentioned.

"Oh, Gem, you wouldn't believe how wonderful it was. I swear to you, no lies, cross my heart, that if it wasn't in the auditorium here, you would've sworn it was a broadway production. Such a phenomenal show, they tried oh so hard and hit everything on the mark. So glorious!"

He slowly came down from cloud 9, appreciating his memories of the play just a few moments longer, but his fantasies of theater were soon replaced by the serious planning his future project would involve.

"It's.....a documentary. I've been planning it for a long, long time. Kind of my life's work, really. It's all about big business and economical corruption!"

He seemed very devoted to the cause from his facial expressions down to his tone of voice, but not enough to come off as bitter or threatening.

"I think I'll finally be done with it this week. I've been working on it so much now that it almost feels like i haven't done anything else in years, haha."

He smiled softly again.

"I w-wish I could have b-been there. P-Plays are so w-wonderful." Gem said as she smiled to herself. She truly did love plays, though she'd seen precious few of them, and most of those had been on television and not in person. She just found it amazing how actors could slip into people who weren't themselves so deeply and easily...though she didn't like it when people used those talents in everyday life. Masks made her sad, and false faces scared her.

Gem smiled a little wider hearing the passion in Davey's voice about his documentary. "You're a v-very d-dedic-cated person, aren't you?" She observed. "Th-That sounds l-like it'd b-be a lot of w-work, but you sound so h-happy about it. I'm sure i-it'll t-turn out g-great."