Fic: [Comics] In the Shadow of the Bat
Title: In the Shadow of the Bat
Series: DC Comics
Type: Divergence
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3262416/29/
Penguin
The church in Old Gotham was shining clean as the slim, blond haired man swept the floor with a old fashioned corn broom. Jean-Paul Valley liked the old fashioned tool, it fit his hands and the physical effort was satisfying.
With a peter-natural agility he used the broom like a staff, striking towards a figure in the shadows, then he stopped cold. "Oh," he smiled slightly, "it's you."
Batman stood, the broom handle aimed at his chest. If Jean-Paul had carried through with the blow he would have hit a nerve cluster, probably stunning or disabling him. It was good to see the younger man hadn't lost his touch.
Jean-Paul watched the black cloaked, almost gothic looking hero standing in the shadows of his church and wondered how much of a fool he had been, running around dressed in a outfit like that while fighting crime. Though he supposed Batman did some good, even if it was mixed with the trappings of cosplay.
"It's good to see you, Jean-Paul." Batman said, "Though I wish you had told me what you planned to do when you dropped out of sight." He hesitated, "Cass, especially, was worried about you."
Jean-Paul winced slightly. He and Cass had been good friends... and yes, he probably did owe her a explanation. "I'm sorry I just disappeared like that," he conceded. "Can I get you a coffee or something?" he asked, realizing he had been amiss in his duties as host.
Batman looked amused at getting the 'I love Gotham' mug but sipped the coffee willingly. Not bad coffee either, better than the ones he got at the Gotham Police Department. "So," he asked mildly, "what happened?"
"I had a... realization, I suppose," Jean-Paul quietly admitted, "I spent the last several years entirely defined by what I was doing while dressed in crazy costumes. I had totally lost track of who I was other than Azrael."
"Hmm," Batman made a non-commital noise.
"I guess that wouldn't be a issue for you," Jean-Paul conceded wryly. "Anyway, after some soul searching I ended up in a monastery, and eventually took my vows as a priest."
"You haven't drawn on the funds I set up for you," Batman noted thoughtfully.
"I relied on you a long time," Jean-Paul shrugged then gestured around the church, "and I wanted to build something on my own."
"And you didn't contact me because...?" Batman wondered, drinking some coffee.
"I wasn't planning on putting the costume on again," Jean-Paul shrugged slightly, "and if you wanted to find me, I was sure you could."
"Point," Batman conceded.
Jean-Paul sipped a bit of his coffee then asked, "So, why are you here? I doubt you dropped in just to chat."
Getting down to business Batman said, "There's a new crime lord in town. We don't have too much details yet, but they've killed Cobblebot and apparently claimed the Penguin name."
"Huh," Jean-Paul's head nodded slightly.
"Whoever they are, they have money and resources," Batman continued, "and they appear to be interested in you."
THAT surprised Jean-Paul enough to nearly drop his coffee. "How so?" he asked seriously.
"They've put out a reward for information on you, as well as tapped into online and other sources of data," Batman said. "We don't know their motives yet, but it can't be good."
Jean-Paul grunted softly. "I didn't think I'd pissed anyone off recently," he mused. With a sigh he asked, "Do you think it's the Order of St. Dumas?"
Batman looked annoyed, faintly. "I though we destroyed it?" he asked dryly.
"It's a thousand year old secret society," Jean-Paul noted with a shrug, "it's a good bet they had more than one branch. We know they had internal splits before, after all."
"True," Batman conceded. He turned away, moving off into the shadows as he added, "It's good to have you back. Take care."
"Huh," Jean-Paul smiled, slightly touched. Of course, now he had to worry about the Order being after him again, but it was kind of nice to reconnect with Bruce.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Oracle was frankly annoyed with herself once Batman informed her of his meeting at Jean-Paul's church. "I should have considered the Order as a suspect in financing the new Penguin," she conceded with a scowl. Selling off a priceless sword for seed money? OF COURSE it was the order. It was obvious.
Batman's voice came over the secure radio, "We thought they were gone, or if not gone at least no longer our problem." A pause, "We were wrong."
"I'll re-do my searches into the Penguin taking into account a Order of St Dumas connection," Barbara noted as she set things into motion, "but I can't promise any new results. The thing about secret societies like this is that they are very good at being secret."
"Understood," Batman answered, "I'll shake down the usual underworld sources."
"Good luck," Barbara said as he signed off.
The problem with computers, even the terribly advanced ones that Oracle used, was that Garbage IN, Garbage Out still applied. Biases and assumptions could skew data, as well as produce inaccurate results. Oracle was going to have to throw out all her earlier work, not knowing if it was biased or not, and start over. Aggravating, but necessary.
The Iceberg Lounge, home of the original Penguin before his untimely death, was being run by a property management company. Their files were a open book, but didn't lead anywhere useful in this case. Cash payments, and the only leads from them were a nondescript man in security photos.
The criminal operations the Penguin had run, interestingly, were all apparently in decline. He had, admittedly, already become a minor player in Gotham crime, but even that was going down. The drug dealing, people smuggling and so on had all been left to wither away. All that was still functioning were his legal businesses...
'Which makes you wonder why someone would take over a criminal organization only to let it die?' Barbara wondered. Though admittedly the legit businesses were quite successful and were providing good money to whomever was running all this.
Each legit company was controlled by another, and another behind that, all seeming shell companies. Several were created using the simple method of filing incorporation papers and infusions of large amounts of cash. Shady as hell, but there was always someone you could bribe in Gotham. She ran a list of the company names through her computers and got a commonality... all the shell companies were named after Bible references.
"Figures," Babs muttered.
As she kept her computers working she considered the other cases she was working. The League of Assassins search was still ongoing, but Talia was both sneaky and very very dangerous. Several police services had suffered ambushes, and super teams who were caught off guard suffered serious losses. Talia had clearly taken the kid gloves off and no longer cared about the consequences.
The Paladin had been sighted in Gotham, the gun weilding crime-fighter preventing a armored car heist. Batman, frankly, was less than pleased, though Babs herself hadn't made up her mind yet She had nearly as many issues about guns as Bruce did, but the heroine seemed intent on not killing her foes. And the unique guns and bullets were VERY effective.
"Remind me to talk to Dad about her," Babs murmured to herself.
The computer chimed, and Babs rolled her wheelchair over to read the results. Or lack thereof, sadly. Nothing new, even factoring in the Order of St. Dumas connection. It looked like they were just going to have to dig things up with old fashioned field work.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Rene Montoya ran a private investigation company, though it was mostly a cover for her activities as the Question. Most of her time was focused on cases for the Question, and she was paid through funds of the Justice League. She also took work from the Gotham City Police Department, through Commissioner Gordon. There were still crooked cops, and he needed someone outside the system to check on them.
THIS however, smelled. Badly.
The client was a guy. BIG guy, with callused hands and a lot of muscle. But he didn't move like a farmer or a laborer, instead he had that... oddly catlike walk of a long time soldier. Or a warrior, anyway. And he seemed damned uncomfortable in his off the rack business suit.
Still, Rene figured it might be interesting to hear the guy out. "Take a seat, please," the smaller woman said, waving him towards the chair in front of her desk. "Mr...?" she asked
"Thank you," he said stiffly. He hesitated, "John McCoy."
Rene sat behind the desk. It was a older desk, but big and sturdy, and in her spare time she had polished out the scuffs and marks. It was a position of power, which she used, especially in cases where she was dealing with a client she was... concerned about.
'Fake name?' Rene wondered. He didn't seem comfortable using it. Putting her hands in front of her Rene politely asked, "What can I do for you?"
The man put his obviously new briefcase on the desk, opening it to get out a file. "It'a a missing person's case," John said, passing it over.
"Huh," Rene murmured as she looked over a very slim file and a photo of a young man. Jean-Paul Valley? The name sounded familiar, but didn't ring any loud bells. "Why do you want to find him?" she asked curiously.
John frowned a bit, "Do you need to know that?"
Rene added another note to the 'something's wrong' column. Patiently Rene said, "It mostly relates to how hard he'll be to find. If he's done something wrong, he may be hiding out."
"He has not done anything wrong," John insisted, "he was a valuable employee of my company, and we want to find him. That is all."
'He might actually be telling the truth there,' Rene noted. "You know my fees?" she asked. When he shook his head she continued, "Two hundred a day, plus expenses and the first week in advance as a retainer."
"Is a thousand in cash acceptable?" he asked, calmly taking out a envelope from his case and passing it over.
Rene took it, opening the flap a moment to confirm the cash was in there. Confirming it was she nodded, "Well, looks like you've hired yourself a detective. Would you like to meet here in a week for a report, or...?"
"Here would be fine," John agreed, getting up. "Thank you for your help."
Once he left Rene quickly slipped on her jacket and went out her window onto her fire escape. The warning bells in her mind had been ringing non-stop, and she really wanted to see where he went. She tailed him about a block, then blinked as a limo pulled up, the doors opened and he climbed in, racing off into the evening.
"Huh," Rene grunted, noting the licence plate number. Things were getting more interesting by the moment.
To be continued...
Notes: Batman does not GET Jean-Paul's having issues with his life being devoted to costumes because for him, BRUCE is the costume, more or less. This is canon for the Batman animated universe, and most Batman comics writers follow this as well.
Series: DC Comics
Type: Divergence
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3262416/29/
Penguin
The church in Old Gotham was shining clean as the slim, blond haired man swept the floor with a old fashioned corn broom. Jean-Paul Valley liked the old fashioned tool, it fit his hands and the physical effort was satisfying.
With a peter-natural agility he used the broom like a staff, striking towards a figure in the shadows, then he stopped cold. "Oh," he smiled slightly, "it's you."
Batman stood, the broom handle aimed at his chest. If Jean-Paul had carried through with the blow he would have hit a nerve cluster, probably stunning or disabling him. It was good to see the younger man hadn't lost his touch.
Jean-Paul watched the black cloaked, almost gothic looking hero standing in the shadows of his church and wondered how much of a fool he had been, running around dressed in a outfit like that while fighting crime. Though he supposed Batman did some good, even if it was mixed with the trappings of cosplay.
"It's good to see you, Jean-Paul." Batman said, "Though I wish you had told me what you planned to do when you dropped out of sight." He hesitated, "Cass, especially, was worried about you."
Jean-Paul winced slightly. He and Cass had been good friends... and yes, he probably did owe her a explanation. "I'm sorry I just disappeared like that," he conceded. "Can I get you a coffee or something?" he asked, realizing he had been amiss in his duties as host.
Batman looked amused at getting the 'I love Gotham' mug but sipped the coffee willingly. Not bad coffee either, better than the ones he got at the Gotham Police Department. "So," he asked mildly, "what happened?"
"I had a... realization, I suppose," Jean-Paul quietly admitted, "I spent the last several years entirely defined by what I was doing while dressed in crazy costumes. I had totally lost track of who I was other than Azrael."
"Hmm," Batman made a non-commital noise.
"I guess that wouldn't be a issue for you," Jean-Paul conceded wryly. "Anyway, after some soul searching I ended up in a monastery, and eventually took my vows as a priest."
"You haven't drawn on the funds I set up for you," Batman noted thoughtfully.
"I relied on you a long time," Jean-Paul shrugged then gestured around the church, "and I wanted to build something on my own."
"And you didn't contact me because...?" Batman wondered, drinking some coffee.
"I wasn't planning on putting the costume on again," Jean-Paul shrugged slightly, "and if you wanted to find me, I was sure you could."
"Point," Batman conceded.
Jean-Paul sipped a bit of his coffee then asked, "So, why are you here? I doubt you dropped in just to chat."
Getting down to business Batman said, "There's a new crime lord in town. We don't have too much details yet, but they've killed Cobblebot and apparently claimed the Penguin name."
"Huh," Jean-Paul's head nodded slightly.
"Whoever they are, they have money and resources," Batman continued, "and they appear to be interested in you."
THAT surprised Jean-Paul enough to nearly drop his coffee. "How so?" he asked seriously.
"They've put out a reward for information on you, as well as tapped into online and other sources of data," Batman said. "We don't know their motives yet, but it can't be good."
Jean-Paul grunted softly. "I didn't think I'd pissed anyone off recently," he mused. With a sigh he asked, "Do you think it's the Order of St. Dumas?"
Batman looked annoyed, faintly. "I though we destroyed it?" he asked dryly.
"It's a thousand year old secret society," Jean-Paul noted with a shrug, "it's a good bet they had more than one branch. We know they had internal splits before, after all."
"True," Batman conceded. He turned away, moving off into the shadows as he added, "It's good to have you back. Take care."
"Huh," Jean-Paul smiled, slightly touched. Of course, now he had to worry about the Order being after him again, but it was kind of nice to reconnect with Bruce.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Oracle was frankly annoyed with herself once Batman informed her of his meeting at Jean-Paul's church. "I should have considered the Order as a suspect in financing the new Penguin," she conceded with a scowl. Selling off a priceless sword for seed money? OF COURSE it was the order. It was obvious.
Batman's voice came over the secure radio, "We thought they were gone, or if not gone at least no longer our problem." A pause, "We were wrong."
"I'll re-do my searches into the Penguin taking into account a Order of St Dumas connection," Barbara noted as she set things into motion, "but I can't promise any new results. The thing about secret societies like this is that they are very good at being secret."
"Understood," Batman answered, "I'll shake down the usual underworld sources."
"Good luck," Barbara said as he signed off.
The problem with computers, even the terribly advanced ones that Oracle used, was that Garbage IN, Garbage Out still applied. Biases and assumptions could skew data, as well as produce inaccurate results. Oracle was going to have to throw out all her earlier work, not knowing if it was biased or not, and start over. Aggravating, but necessary.
The Iceberg Lounge, home of the original Penguin before his untimely death, was being run by a property management company. Their files were a open book, but didn't lead anywhere useful in this case. Cash payments, and the only leads from them were a nondescript man in security photos.
The criminal operations the Penguin had run, interestingly, were all apparently in decline. He had, admittedly, already become a minor player in Gotham crime, but even that was going down. The drug dealing, people smuggling and so on had all been left to wither away. All that was still functioning were his legal businesses...
'Which makes you wonder why someone would take over a criminal organization only to let it die?' Barbara wondered. Though admittedly the legit businesses were quite successful and were providing good money to whomever was running all this.
Each legit company was controlled by another, and another behind that, all seeming shell companies. Several were created using the simple method of filing incorporation papers and infusions of large amounts of cash. Shady as hell, but there was always someone you could bribe in Gotham. She ran a list of the company names through her computers and got a commonality... all the shell companies were named after Bible references.
"Figures," Babs muttered.
As she kept her computers working she considered the other cases she was working. The League of Assassins search was still ongoing, but Talia was both sneaky and very very dangerous. Several police services had suffered ambushes, and super teams who were caught off guard suffered serious losses. Talia had clearly taken the kid gloves off and no longer cared about the consequences.
The Paladin had been sighted in Gotham, the gun weilding crime-fighter preventing a armored car heist. Batman, frankly, was less than pleased, though Babs herself hadn't made up her mind yet She had nearly as many issues about guns as Bruce did, but the heroine seemed intent on not killing her foes. And the unique guns and bullets were VERY effective.
"Remind me to talk to Dad about her," Babs murmured to herself.
The computer chimed, and Babs rolled her wheelchair over to read the results. Or lack thereof, sadly. Nothing new, even factoring in the Order of St. Dumas connection. It looked like they were just going to have to dig things up with old fashioned field work.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Rene Montoya ran a private investigation company, though it was mostly a cover for her activities as the Question. Most of her time was focused on cases for the Question, and she was paid through funds of the Justice League. She also took work from the Gotham City Police Department, through Commissioner Gordon. There were still crooked cops, and he needed someone outside the system to check on them.
THIS however, smelled. Badly.
The client was a guy. BIG guy, with callused hands and a lot of muscle. But he didn't move like a farmer or a laborer, instead he had that... oddly catlike walk of a long time soldier. Or a warrior, anyway. And he seemed damned uncomfortable in his off the rack business suit.
Still, Rene figured it might be interesting to hear the guy out. "Take a seat, please," the smaller woman said, waving him towards the chair in front of her desk. "Mr...?" she asked
"Thank you," he said stiffly. He hesitated, "John McCoy."
Rene sat behind the desk. It was a older desk, but big and sturdy, and in her spare time she had polished out the scuffs and marks. It was a position of power, which she used, especially in cases where she was dealing with a client she was... concerned about.
'Fake name?' Rene wondered. He didn't seem comfortable using it. Putting her hands in front of her Rene politely asked, "What can I do for you?"
The man put his obviously new briefcase on the desk, opening it to get out a file. "It'a a missing person's case," John said, passing it over.
"Huh," Rene murmured as she looked over a very slim file and a photo of a young man. Jean-Paul Valley? The name sounded familiar, but didn't ring any loud bells. "Why do you want to find him?" she asked curiously.
John frowned a bit, "Do you need to know that?"
Rene added another note to the 'something's wrong' column. Patiently Rene said, "It mostly relates to how hard he'll be to find. If he's done something wrong, he may be hiding out."
"He has not done anything wrong," John insisted, "he was a valuable employee of my company, and we want to find him. That is all."
'He might actually be telling the truth there,' Rene noted. "You know my fees?" she asked. When he shook his head she continued, "Two hundred a day, plus expenses and the first week in advance as a retainer."
"Is a thousand in cash acceptable?" he asked, calmly taking out a envelope from his case and passing it over.
Rene took it, opening the flap a moment to confirm the cash was in there. Confirming it was she nodded, "Well, looks like you've hired yourself a detective. Would you like to meet here in a week for a report, or...?"
"Here would be fine," John agreed, getting up. "Thank you for your help."
Once he left Rene quickly slipped on her jacket and went out her window onto her fire escape. The warning bells in her mind had been ringing non-stop, and she really wanted to see where he went. She tailed him about a block, then blinked as a limo pulled up, the doors opened and he climbed in, racing off into the evening.
"Huh," Rene grunted, noting the licence plate number. Things were getting more interesting by the moment.
To be continued...
Notes: Batman does not GET Jean-Paul's having issues with his life being devoted to costumes because for him, BRUCE is the costume, more or less. This is canon for the Batman animated universe, and most Batman comics writers follow this as well.