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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The sleek, white form flitted rapidly through the shadows. It had a hard time locating its destination at first, but once the building was spotted and determined for what it was the man quickly made its way towards the darkest of the secluded entrances. It was what the Assassin assumed was a fire-escape, located on the highest level of the building's floor plan. At home Altaїr loved to drop, literally, into the homes of his prey from the rooftops, a common design in his world to leave one room or another open to the sky for aesthetic or religious or personal reasons. This wasn't much different in his opinion. The hardest part here would be the lock. The hawk-like assassin manhandled this with a cunning blade and made short work with it. His method was blunt, but efficient.

Once inside, it only took Altaїr a moment to orientate himself to the room design and then he slipped back into the shadows. He found a catwalk area that gave him the perfect view of the room beneath him and climbed out onto it, silent as a cat, to observe his new surroundings for a time. Assessing the layout, the Assassin planned several escape routes before even searching for his true reason for being here. Unfortunately, Altaїr had no visual description of his prey and was acting on blind faith. Not entirely uncommon in his field, it was still quite a hindrance. Now he would have to use cunning and intellect to determine which little mouse beneath him was the one he wanted.

Indeed though, it took little processing time for the assassin to realize what he sought wouldn't be down there. In fact, it would be somewhere up here. Altaїr's gaze switched tactics and began to sweep the floor he was on. On the opposite side of the catwalk was an actual landing, complete with a set of stairs to reach it, and an office tucked safely into one of the corners. His eyes narrowed as they began their true search for his prey, noting the guards and other obstacles likely to get in his way just as much as focusing on whom to direction his true wrath upon.

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There were three guards near the stair case. One was watching the dance floor to be sure couples wouldn't wander too close to the stair case leading up to the offices.The other two were further back not really doing much more than acting as back up.

There was a very good chance that someone might try interrupting the meeting after all. One of the men towards the back spoke up.

"Man, did you see that woman Fredo lead into the boss's office? What a looker," the slight redhead spoke with a low whistle. "Never seen her here before. Wonder if she's here for buisness or..."

"Damn it Vinnie, shut up. What if the Boss hears ya talking like that? You don't mistreat a lady. Especially real ladies, ya know? She's here because of that tall skinny guy that got grabbed. She's his friend I guess." The taller more professional of the two started to check his gun. Just out of habit.

In the office Ivy settled into her seat.

"You could have just called instead of sending your men to grab me. It would have gone at last more smoothly, Mr Cobblepot," Ivy says calmly while crossing one ankle over the other.

"And how do I know you would have come? Sending them wasn't very bright," the Penguin informed he. Then glanced at the guards in the room. They were mostly for show right now even if Ms Weaver couldn't notice how intimidating they could be.

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Altaїr could only guess at what the shiny metallic object was that the one guard fiddled idly with briefly. His guess was a modern-day weapon, something Ivy had told him about in passing. He couldn't be sure though. His eyes flickered over the three of them rapidly, gauging distances and timing and other intricate details in a matter of seconds. When in doubt...

Three rapid flashes issued from about waist height and crossed the expanse from the assassin to the guards. Three deadly blades, tiny throwing daggers, pierced the guards almost simultaneously and before any one of them could even begin to comprehend their danger, much less react. The daggers were perfectly placed within the throats of the brutish thugs and none let out more than an awful gurgling hiss as the fell heavily to the ground, all sounds easily disappearing in the general hubbub of the club.

This taken care of, Altaїr made his way towards the landing near the staircase. He glanced down at the guards only briefly in passing, mostly checking that they would not be getting back up. Altaїr didn't even think to re-collect his daggers; back home he would have simply gathered more from home or stolen them from a thug on the streets. It didn't occur to him that here the process might be more taxing.

Altaїr approached the office cautiously. For one, he had overheard the guards talking and knew there was a female inside. Presumably she was an innocent. The Creed forbade the deaths of the innocent. Second, Altaїr still needed to pick out his specific target from the crowd. That would be easy once he had a view inside. Third, it was always best to be discreet.

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Ivy and the Penguin of course have no idea what had just occurred outside of the room. They were now heavily debating information and it's value.

He thinks she has information he wants. She knows for a fact she doesn't.

"I know as much as you do that every Mobster in the city wants that question answered. I'd like that answered too. It takes a brave man to do what he's been doing. Or very insane. I'm sorry but I doubt that I could get you that information," Ivy tells him in a very even tone.

"That's a pity. Are you sure you have nothing you can give me?" He's pressing for information. Ivy does have a good poker face though.

"No, I honestly don't. And I'm not sure anything I would stumble across would be useful anyways. I imagine you could get it first. Why come after me? I thought you wanted the information I have kept where I'm leaving it."

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Altaїr kept low as he neared the large window looking out onto the club below. He remained in a comfortable crouch as he peeked in and took in the sights. What he saw both surprised him and startled him into premature action.

Without much thought, the Assassin burst into the scene, heavily barreling through the door as he made his rush. The first guard dropped in much the same way the three outside did. The second was much closer to the assassin and he had the misfortune to being on Altaїr's left side; he fell to the ground after the white-robed man cuffed his throat and chin area with an open palm, the area bleeding freely after the assassin withdrew his hand, a gaping wound seemingly appearing from nowhere. There was no weapon in that hand.

The other, however, was making a move for another dagger to throw when a very distinctive sound echoed through the small area. Altaїr halted immediately; not because he knew the sound for what it was, but simply because it sounded dangerous in nature. He turned to face his next opponent and narrowed his eyes at the black, metallic object being leveled at his face.

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The large man with the gun leveled at Altair's face made no other move. But that didn't mean the other guards hadn't circled around. Ready to strike like wolves at the first sign of danger.

Even the Penguin was ready. A small gun in his hand was already trained on Altair.

Ivy though quickly got up standing in the mobster's way. She just knew who it was. The smell was right anyways. And he was very close by.

"Please!"

The Penguin was more than a bit surprised by Ivy's actions. As far as he knew she didn't get out much. No time for real dating.

"Who is he? He just killed two of my men!"

"I guess you need better men then. He's...a very dear friend of mine," Ivy starts talking coolly. Directing the conversation her way.

"A 'dear friend'? My dear Ms Weaver. Dear friends don't dive in here like that," the Penguin retorts trying to not get angry at the young woman.

"Well, you don't have friends like mine then," Ivy replies with a confident smile. "Can we be reasonable here, Mr Cobblepot? I have nothing you really want. I came here on good faith."

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"Five, actually," Altaїr corrected in a low, dangerous tone. He didn't sound frightened in the least despite his current positioning. It wasn't for lack of the goons' trying, either. "The three outside will need to be replaced as well."

Even though it wasn't his policy, Altaїr knew when discretion was the better part of valor. He could probably kill the goon closest to him, get a dagger off at the leader and likely kill him, and maybe dodge a few attacks. But if those weapons were as deadly as Ivy described them, he probably wouldn't get to everyone in the room quick enough. And although his own life didn't matter much in the long run, Ivy's more than made up enough for the sentiment.

He would try it Ivy's way; he would try to negotiate his way out.

"You provoked me before this evening, Sir Cobblepot," the assassin continued before Ivy could delve any further. Really, did she have to give out information like that? No one really needed to know they knew each other. "Your men did something that I do not approve of, something I heard about. They, and their master, should be punished."

His eyes darted to the weapons trained on him and back. "However, I also heard of a certain misunderstanding. Now, you see... if that misunderstanding meant they were disobeying their master.... then a simple deal could be struck..."

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"Hm? Pity, they were good men. No matter," Penguin says calmly. there was no lasting sadness at the loss of the five men. More could be hired or moved around.

The Penguin nods agreeably. "Of course. What is it you're proposing?"

Ivy is in his line of sight. He snorts lightly in annoyance that she's tall enough to be in the way. "Ms. Weaver, do sit down. I won't be shooting anyone right this moment."

Ivy sits because there seems to be no other choice.

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Altaїr stared deadpan at the guard still holding the gun to his face until the other man finally flinched noticeably. Then the white-robed assassin pushed past the man with little effort. He stepped closer to the Penguin and stood in an obviously relaxed state. He could play this game if he had to. That's what he kept telling himself anyway, as his heart thundered loudly in his ear. This was not his usual game.

"I am proposing a deal of sorts. I fix to a problem that, in truth, nags us both. Me, the indiscretion; you, the disobedience." Altaїr paused to once more process his next words. Well, he'd already set it up, there was no backing down now. Either the snotty little man would agree or not. No delaying the inevitable.

"I get the men to do with as I please, you continue to breath the fine air this city has to offer."

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"Agreed." He nods once. It makes sense to him. He was going to have it done anyways. At least it would be out of the way. "Would you like me to call them up? I can have them placed in one of the rooms we have for such occasions."

Made for easy cleaning!

Ivy doesn't breath in relief. But she is surprised. But what Altair is doing makes sense right now. It also makes sense to her she hasn't been removed from the room. Human shield in a way.

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Altaїr didn't voice his disgust at the discriminating information this offer revealed. He would have much preferred to sink his blade into the boss's neck and be done with it. But this would have to do for now. There was a brief movement of Altaїr's head in the upper direction when he heard the news, almost a startlement but heaven forbid anyone suggest that, then a moment later he bobbed it down and up again.

"This will do," he replied neutrally. This task itself would take little time, but it was better here than out on the streets. Altaїr had no other place better than the Penguin's offer.

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The Penguin nodded simply then glanced towards the large man who hadn't said a word. "Fredo. Do take care of this for me, hmmm?"

The large man nods and finally speaks. "Sure thing, boss. I'll bring them right up. You want to see them first?"

The Penguin shakes his head. "No. They knew it was this or I would have sent them to the 'Cleaner'."

There's an uncomfortable silence that follows. Fredo clears his throat just once and nods. "Right. I'll go get them." So the large man leaves to go get the pair.

The Penguin turns his focus back on Ivy for the moment. He seems to be trying to decide on what to do with her. "Hmm. Would you like me to send you home, Ms Weaver? Your friend will of course be released. Our business here is done."

Ivy opens her mouth to speak. But closes it and nods slowly. "I can see to getting myself home."

"Oh no, I must insist, Ms Weaver. It would be dangerous for you tonight. There's too many things that could go wrong. I'll call one of my drivers," he says all too seriously. This has Ivy feel slightly nervous.

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Altaїr remains quiet through the exchange between boss and underling, and also keeps quiet as the focus settles back on Ivy. However, by the end of their brief conversation, Altaїr can't help but to feel the need to say something. He refrains from jumping to Ivy's defense on the need for a car (he still didn't trust the things themselves much less any of the Penguins men driving one with Ivy in it). He tried to think of something more subtle to say.

Subtle was something Altaїr was only good at when it involved death--dialog wasn't his best feature. So instead he went along another path. "Why did you want to talk to Ivy?" The cat was already out the bag, he had no reason not to ask really.

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"Ah, her Uncle was well known for being the sort to horde information. I had hoped he had left behind something on Batman. He's become a thorn in the side of the criminal underworld," he says simply. "I am aware that she would be aware of any information he had."

Which she knew there was none. Pity for him but good for Batman. Having an old man who suspects so many of being connected to the mafia in some way gathering information on him might not have been a good thing.

The Penguin calls for one of his drivers and Fredo steps back into the room. There's a tiny splotch of blood on one of his knuckles. The Penguin merely raises an eyebrow.

"Sorry boss, little Tony tried fightin' me. Had to hit him to keep him from causing trouble," the large man says in a very apologetic tone. "I hope it's alright with you."

"Of course Fredo. So long as you didn't draw any attention to yourself."

"No sir. Loud music. Lots of couples were busy," the burly man says very calmly.

"Good man. If you would show our... guest to them?" Fredo peers over to see if Altair is of course agreeable to this.

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"Leave her alone. Even if she had the information... which I know that she doesn't... A woman like her, with her sort of skills, is bound to have certain assets that, shall we say, can cause you more harm than worth the benefit." No, that was not a threat. It was simply the truth. The Assassin knew he wasn't the only person who could thoroughly wipe this guy out of existence that knew Ivy. He was just the most likely to do the job for free.

With that said, Altaїr considered the deed done. He gave Ivy a meaningful glance, hoping beyond hope that even though she couldn't see him that she could somehow feel his need for a positive reaction in leaving. He still didn't want her to go off with that man--but what other choice did he really have? He still had business here. And quite frankly, Ivy didn't need to be around for it.

But if she didn't want to, he'd keep her here somehow.

Altaїr glanced at Fredo and then Cobblepot. He nodded once. "As soon as the lady is off," he replies, feeling just as awkward for calling Ivy "lady" as he probably sounded considering he knew her name to use instead.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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."

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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.

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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.