A Warehouse Being Robbed, Gotham City, September 23, Late Night
It started tonight.
Using every skill at his disposal, Bruce tracked down a late night robbery. Three crooks tied up a security guard at a warehouse and loaded their goods into a semi trailer. By the time Bruce arrived, they were just getting ready to take off.
"Well, Bruce, here goes," he said to himself from his perch on a rooftop across the street. He pulled his ski mask down over his face, fired his grapple, and swung down in front of the criminal group.
He was a mountain of black. Coat, pants, mask, utility belt, all on his well-trained frame. "On your stomachs!" he ordered. "Arms spread!"
The criminals barely kept from laughing. "Who's this clown?" the apparent leader asked.
"You heard me!" Bruce shouted.
"Yeah," the leader said, brandishing a crowbar. "You heard him, boys." The other two grabbed their guns and as a group they started to circle around him.
As the first crook started to pull his trigger, a throwing star was already on its way to knock the firing barrel off target. The second crook got the same while Bruce rushed in to dodge a swing of the crowbar and deck the leader.
The first criminal came up behind Bruce and held his arms back as the leader returned with a few punches to the gut, but Bruce whipped his head back with a headbutt that loosened the hold. Bruce let fly a series of elbows and punches, taking down the two criminals he'd been struggling with. The security guard shouted something, but it was muffled by the duct tape on his mouth. Still, it was enough to make Bruce look around just as the third crook was about to fire a shotgun.
Bruce dove to cover the guard, but after a couple shots, the crook had bought enough time to climb into the truck and start to drive off. Bruce rolled to his feet and gave chase on foot, just barely giving himself an opportunity to dive for the open trailer door and hold on for dear life.
Bruce managed to hold on without detection for about a mile onto the freeway. It was just about then, though, that a Gotham City Police car spotted the speeding truck with a masked guy hanging off of it. This being Gotham, there was no legal explanation for that sight so the GCPD car started its sirens and gave chase. This was a tough break for Bruce since the sirens forced the driver to check the truck's mirrors and see him hanging on.
The driver dealt with the most pressing problem first. As the GCPD car pulled up alongside the truck, he swerved onto the freeway offramp and bumped the police car to run it off the road. But that gave Bruce time to climb up the door to the top of the trailer. Moving with all deliberate speed, he walked up the trailer before dropping silently onto the cab just as the truck entered a tunnel. Sensing his moment, Bruce grabbed a ball hammer from his utility belt and brought it down in a powerful arc into the truck's windshield multiple times.
The sudden shock of the attack and the increased shattering of the windshield caused the robber behind the wheel to start swerving inside the tunnel. Finally, overcoming his blind panic, he managed to stomp on the brakes. As the truck decelerated, Bruce was thrown from the cab and just barely managed to grab the truck's grille and keep himself from ending his crime fighting career far too early and messily.
As the truck exited the tunnel, it was back under control and started to accelerate again. Bruce collected himself and reached into his belt for one more trick. He took a deep breath, gripped the grille tightly, and threw a handful of caltrops in front of one of the tires. The tire exploded, followed by each tire behind it as the truck ran over the caltrops. The truck skidded out of control, soon flipping onto its side and skidding toward a brick warehouse.
Bruce caught another break in that the truck finally stopped moving when his back was mere inches from the brick wall. But the sound of sirens approaching meant that he didn't have time to wait around. While the night was technically a success, things had not gone well and the police probably wouldn't be very friendly to a masked vigilante when they arrived. And so he climbed atop of the flipped truck, fired his grapple, and swung away. He needed to go home. He needed to recover.
[OOC: More Mask of the Phantasm! Which will be a recrring theme for the next few weeks! Exclamation marks!]
Using every skill at his disposal, Bruce tracked down a late night robbery. Three crooks tied up a security guard at a warehouse and loaded their goods into a semi trailer. By the time Bruce arrived, they were just getting ready to take off.
"Well, Bruce, here goes," he said to himself from his perch on a rooftop across the street. He pulled his ski mask down over his face, fired his grapple, and swung down in front of the criminal group.
He was a mountain of black. Coat, pants, mask, utility belt, all on his well-trained frame. "On your stomachs!" he ordered. "Arms spread!"
The criminals barely kept from laughing. "Who's this clown?" the apparent leader asked.
"You heard me!" Bruce shouted.
"Yeah," the leader said, brandishing a crowbar. "You heard him, boys." The other two grabbed their guns and as a group they started to circle around him.
As the first crook started to pull his trigger, a throwing star was already on its way to knock the firing barrel off target. The second crook got the same while Bruce rushed in to dodge a swing of the crowbar and deck the leader.
The first criminal came up behind Bruce and held his arms back as the leader returned with a few punches to the gut, but Bruce whipped his head back with a headbutt that loosened the hold. Bruce let fly a series of elbows and punches, taking down the two criminals he'd been struggling with. The security guard shouted something, but it was muffled by the duct tape on his mouth. Still, it was enough to make Bruce look around just as the third crook was about to fire a shotgun.
Bruce dove to cover the guard, but after a couple shots, the crook had bought enough time to climb into the truck and start to drive off. Bruce rolled to his feet and gave chase on foot, just barely giving himself an opportunity to dive for the open trailer door and hold on for dear life.
Bruce managed to hold on without detection for about a mile onto the freeway. It was just about then, though, that a Gotham City Police car spotted the speeding truck with a masked guy hanging off of it. This being Gotham, there was no legal explanation for that sight so the GCPD car started its sirens and gave chase. This was a tough break for Bruce since the sirens forced the driver to check the truck's mirrors and see him hanging on.
The driver dealt with the most pressing problem first. As the GCPD car pulled up alongside the truck, he swerved onto the freeway offramp and bumped the police car to run it off the road. But that gave Bruce time to climb up the door to the top of the trailer. Moving with all deliberate speed, he walked up the trailer before dropping silently onto the cab just as the truck entered a tunnel. Sensing his moment, Bruce grabbed a ball hammer from his utility belt and brought it down in a powerful arc into the truck's windshield multiple times.
The sudden shock of the attack and the increased shattering of the windshield caused the robber behind the wheel to start swerving inside the tunnel. Finally, overcoming his blind panic, he managed to stomp on the brakes. As the truck decelerated, Bruce was thrown from the cab and just barely managed to grab the truck's grille and keep himself from ending his crime fighting career far too early and messily.
As the truck exited the tunnel, it was back under control and started to accelerate again. Bruce collected himself and reached into his belt for one more trick. He took a deep breath, gripped the grille tightly, and threw a handful of caltrops in front of one of the tires. The tire exploded, followed by each tire behind it as the truck ran over the caltrops. The truck skidded out of control, soon flipping onto its side and skidding toward a brick warehouse.
Bruce caught another break in that the truck finally stopped moving when his back was mere inches from the brick wall. But the sound of sirens approaching meant that he didn't have time to wait around. While the night was technically a success, things had not gone well and the police probably wouldn't be very friendly to a masked vigilante when they arrived. And so he climbed atop of the flipped truck, fired his grapple, and swung away. He needed to go home. He needed to recover.
[OOC: More Mask of the Phantasm! Which will be a recrring theme for the next few weeks! Exclamation marks!]