Calling all heroes, villans, and the other guys (for <lj site="livejournal.com" user="bladeinthecrow

[blindingtrust]

It was the Iceberge Lounge. One of the hot spots for the social elite and people somehow connected to the Mafia. In some ways it was also one of the safest places to hold a meeting. There was one such meeting going on up in one of the management offices over looking the club. Bars from old music could be heard through the door as it opened and a young dark haired woman dressed in formal wear was lead in.

"Thank you for having one of your men meet me, Mr Cobblepot. I do value the courtesy they showed me," Ivy stated showing all the poise in the world. She held herself as if she owned the room.

"Do take a seat, Ms Weaver. I didn't go through all that trouble just for a chat," the short man requests.

Ivy merely nods and takes a seat across from him. "No. You really didn't. I don't like it when my friends are abducted so let's cut to the chase, Mr Cobblepot. What the hell is this about? Your men..."

"Acted how they shouldn't have. I do apologize for how they mishandled you the other night. I hope to make it up to you before we move on to more important matters."

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[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

That was a very true fact. Ivy was beginning to make the sort of connections that she would need in the future. Even if some of them were the kind that she wouldn't normally consider using.

The Penguin clearly knew when he was verbally out maneuvered. He didn't comment though that it was unlikely she could really threaten him. He knew that she was becoming more well known for being a very honest young woman who just wanted to help the city become what it should be. That could make hurting her very dangerous for his legitimate business ventures. The older members of the city who might consider backing him wouldn't if they suspected she had come to harm because of him after all hurting a blind woman just doesn't look good for anyone. For a very brief moment he curses her not just for being such an 'honest' person but for being a blind woman too.

"May I go meet with your driver then," Ivy requests in a very even tone.

"Of course, Ms Weaver. Do have a...pleasant night." His tone is no longer pleasant but very icy. Alair had pissed him off by pointing out that simple fact.

Ivy stands and gives a very polite half bow half curtsy. The way her knees bent very slightly and the way she dipped her head forward just a bit was stuffed with a very straight forward politeness meant to keep things as smooth as possible. Ivy didn't want to appear rude. Even as she was being allowed to leave she kept up her polite front.

[bladeinthecrowd.livejournal.com]

Altaїr watches the Penguin and Ivy with a keen eye. The Penguin because, well, he's the Penguin and all proper villains need to be watched when in the same room. Ivy simply because he wants to, and also because he needs to in a different sort of fashion. As she leaves the room his eyes follow modestly until he snaps his attention back to the Penguin and his goons with a narrowed gaze.

With Ivy gone, he's in as much a hurry as ever to get this done and over with. He considers offing everyone in the room for a second, but not only would that cause a commotion (and possibly still manage to get Ivy hurt or worse), it would also be against his word. And that was scared even to a man like himself.

No, Altaїr would only do that which he said and then be gone. He indicated to both the Penguin and his goon that he was ready to be shown the way.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

The Penguin wasn't one to sit around for very long. Now he was ready to move onto other things. Namely allowing Altair to vent his frustrations on the two men he was after. Though he was well aware that Altair might one day wish to return for his own life.

"Fredo, show our guest to where you left them?" He didn't even bother to mention their names any more. They were dead to him now.

[bladeinthecrowd.livejournal.com]

Altaïr kept his eye on the Penguin even as he glanced at the man addressed as Fredo. He waited a beat for the other man to make his move out the door, and then followed after the burly man had slipped beyond the doorway. He gave one last glance to Cobblepot before slipping out the door.

He hated being between thugs. It made keeping an eye out all the more vital... and all the more hard. He kept glancing behind to see if the others followed or not as he followed the one leading him.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

Fredo of course led Altair to that room. Once he opened the door the pleading voices of the two soon to be dead thugs could be heard.

Fredo rolls his eyes. "Shut up. Be happy the Boss didn't call the Cleaner. You did this to yourselves. Never disobey the Boss. Little thing called loyalty. Guess ya never learned it."

He nods to Altair and steps back to let the man in the room.

[bladeinthecrowd.livejournal.com]

Altaïr narrowed his eyes at Fredo as he stepped through the door, keeping his eye on the man as he does so. Afterwards, when he realized the large man intended to keep watch by joining him inside, Altaïr turned his attention to the more important matter of the two men inside. Despite their appearance and occupation, they did not impress him.

Altaïr was not a man in practice of using torture. It was not his place, not in his job description, nor, really, did he approve of it in and of itself. People would tell him plenty once they knew they were dead, oddly enough. They just thought he wouldn't piece it together; they were wrong, in the end.

Not only that, he wanted out of here quickly. There was no reason to dwell.

Altaïr mentally assessed his options. He didn't like giving away any secrets. He decided on a different approach, what with Fredo watching in on him.

He drew the most obvious weapon in his possession: the long sword hanging at his side. It was hidden from most a casual glance, but in the end it was still an easy weapon to notice on his form. Unlike the many hidden throwing daggers and short sword carefully tucked beneath his robes sheathed across his back and the hidden blade on his wrist.

He walked up to the first man and knew by the light in the other's eye that there would be a futile struggle. Altaïr made it quick. He feinted one direction, caught the man trying to throw a punch at his rapidly moving body, and twisted easily out of the way. His movement brought him around to the man's backside and he plunged his sword into the man's back. The blade pierced through the man's front torso, and Altaïr twisted it on the way back out to enlarge the hole and quicken the death. With a ragged breath the man fell to the ground with a pool of blood.

After that demonstration, the second showed fear in his eyes. He hardly even put up a struggle as Altaïr moved forward to stab at him mercilessly. Another second passed and he, too, fell to his death upon the floor. Altaïr wiped the blood from his blade casually on a stained cloth, then returned it to its hidden pouch, as well as sheathed the sword.

The two men were dead in less than ten seconds and the Assassin was ready to leave.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

Fredo barely blinked or did anything else. But he did nod in appreciation for the fact that Altair did it quickly and efficiently. He liked a man who was a professional about things.

"I'll let the boss know it's done," Fredo says in his deep baritone voice. "And...you might want to leave soon. People might get testy."

[bladeinthecrowd.livejournal.com]

Altaïr nodded once and didn't afford the man with an actual answer. He gave him a good stare, not of intimidation, but of simple acknowledgment of his words and meaning, and presence. Then he was out the door and just another shadow in the darkened club. Soon after that, he was just another shadow in all of Gotham.

[blindingtrust.livejournal.com]

Once he gets back to Ivy's home there will be a note left out for him. Ivy had to go someplace else almost as soon as she got home.

She'd be back in an hour. Really.