milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There is a young superhero sitting at one of the tables, examining two separate stacks of documents. The first, at a casual glance, is topped with early sketches of what looks like a superhero's costume, or perhaps a suit of armor. Several notes are scribbled on the top page, and Invincible flips between it and several of the pages clipped to it, including a photo of a tall, muscular, black man.

The second stack of documents appears to be the application paperwork for a university in upstate California.

Superhero in the Bar. Interruptable.

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"Pro-tip," says Artemis leaning over, "When you're in costume, having your civilian name on paperwork is a bit of a give away."

Not that she doesn't have a folder with masks sketched in green on a blank face in hand, but that could be for anything. A play maybe.

[OOC: And apparently I have the dumb today, because I replied to my own post instead of your comment.]

(Again, the narrative notes that it really needs a facepalm icon for Our Hero.)

Mark flips the application paperwork over, sighing. "It's been a weird day," he says. "I'm not at my best."

He eyes the folder in her hand. "'Pro-tip'?"

(Really, Batman is having an aneurysm somewhere at the lack of secrecy in this Bar.)

OOC: It is a thing which happens.

Possibly even multiple Batmen.

"Everyone from Gotham is a pro at costumed crap, didn't you know?" asks Artemis as she sits down and drops the fold on top of Mark's now upside down papers, "Where else does a high IQ, an obsession with puns and a fondness for the color green turn into a life of crime?"

"Irish comedy clubs?" ventures Mark. He smiles, but it's a little tired. "Given the choice, I'd be filling this out in civvies, but the Bar grabbed me right off a call from Art." He gestures to other stack of papers. "Art designs costumes. And battlesuits. Someone stole Black Samson's."

OOC: Icon's. Bah.

Kittlemeyer's analogue, more or less.

Artemis frowns at that news, "Just looking for weaknesses or imposter and impersonation?"

"Hard to say, but I think Samson's the main suspect." Mark contemplates the photo clipped to the stack of notes from Art. "He lost his powers recently, and the Guardians of the Globe revoked his membership," he explains. "He commissioned Art to build the suit for him, but he'd been getting antsy according to Art. And now, someone broke in, knocked Art out, and took the suit."

"I'm sure that Darkwing and the otheg Guardians are on it as well," he adds. "But it's a high-powered suit. It's a bad thing to be missing, especially if someone who's emotionally off-balance is using it."

He sighs. "Not what I was hoping for from a day off from school."

It's pretty much always like this though. Hurrah for escalation.

"That's kind of cold, kicking him out for being depowered," says Artemis, "Any sort of traceable power signatures or anything like that?"

Probably not, but you ask to make sure.

"Nothing that I can track," says Mark. "If it's Samson, though, he'll probably show up. Either to fight crime or to lash out at the Guardians. Darkwing will be prepared for him, but he'll play it close to his chest, according to Dad. Assuming he's not already on the thief's trail. He's not very communicative."

Not unlike a certain Bat.

"If it isn't Samson, then we'll know about it. You don't steal a battlesuit to stand it in the corner of your living room."

Paranoia is a gift which keeps on giving.

"It'd be a real icebreaker of a coat rack," she says, "But, yeah, it'll turn up. The trick would be to keep an eye out for it being handed off instead just used by the thief."

It's what Dad does on Thursdays.

Mark laughs. "Yeah, it would definitely break the ice at parties."

"I'll have to check with Dad to see if we can track that sort of business deal." He grimaces. "I really hate all this detective work. I'm no good at it."

Break it into tiny little pieces.

"You can't really hire it out either. Anyone good enough to be useful would be dangerous."

Which is a shame.

"Dad knows a few people. Darkwing, mostly, but there's a detective he says knows quite a bit about the Underworld. He said he was going to give him a call. The guy's not exactly on the side of the angels, but he does have a rep for finding things. And he adheres to a contract."

"Professional is good. It'll probably cost a fair bit though."

She taps the table for a moment in thought.

"Probably a good idea to set up a mail drop or something like it as a but out though anyway."

Mark nods. "Makes sense. I'll mention it to Dad. Like I said, Darkwing probably has some of this stuff set up already. But, with him and Dad's friend Damien working it, they should be able at least to figure out if it was actually Samson or some criminal."

He shakes his head. "I think I'm mostly on the sidelines on this one. I'll keep my eyes open, but this is more the Guardians' play. Samson is one of them, whether they revoked his membership or not."

"So how's Gotham?" he asks. "Currently being threatened by someone smart who wears green and likes puns?"

"Nah. Riddler is still in Belle Reve last I heard anything. Last to threaten Gotham was Mr. Freeze. You'd think he'd push the doctorate in cryogenics more, but what do I know about branding for cold themed villains?"

More than she really wants to if she's honest.

"Well, you pick your name," replies Mark, indicating his costume, "or the media picks it for you. Moreso for a lot of villains. There's an entire gang in Chicago that got named after bodily functions. They're kind of disgusting."

"So, even if he wanted to be Dr. Freeze," he concludes, "he'd have a heck of a time convincing anyone to call him that. Especially if he's been around for a while."

Artemis nods at most of the explanation. Pretty much like home.

"Is there even some sort of rational behind the Chicago names or was the reporter nine?"

"Cesspool, Belcher, Backfire, and Nasal Ned," says Mark with an expression of distaste. "It was like a Nickelodeon show, only with explosive body functions and gunfire."

"It was funny when I was eight," he admits, "but it's more just disgusting."

"Nasal. Ned."

What?

Mark nods. "Chicago has some very weird supers, by all accounts," he says.

"Weird is one thing, but seriously, if he wasn't before the name would drive just about anyone into being... on the wrong side of the law."

"Well," says Mark, "what can a guy with explosive boogers do, except be a criminal."

(Erik Larsen has a lot to answer for, when it comes to comic book weirdness.)

Pause.

Longer pause.

"Be careful where he sneezes, I guess. It's kind of a losing spin on the superpowers wheel of fortune, I'll give him that."

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