War's a Joke (Open to all who would logically be there)

Rick slowly edged his way across the wet roof. Soaked to the bone, he continued without pause towards the large horizontal window, overlooking the warehouse. To him it was just another 'run of the mill.' He smiled gingerly for himself. He'd have to remember that one.

When he reached the opening and peered over the edge down at the gathering, the smile slowly warped into a frown. They were everywhere, in the words most literal sense. What he first thought was a very dirty floor in a factory, he gradually realized was hundreds and yet hundreds of people in ragged or alternative clothes listening intensely to the purple figures on a podium. He couldn't make out what Joker was saying, but it riled up the crowd pretty badly. They were jumping, screaming, waving their arms like livid apes. Every here and there, Rick could make out a camera or two. This thing was being transmitted live! Who know how many more were tuned in this very moment? He steeled himself. This was not the time to be second guessing.

"In position, sir."

---

The room was about the size of your ordinary living room, furnished with comfortable couches and armchairs. Today, they were all turned towards a big plasma screen mounted on one of the walls. Staring intensely at the wavering image of a seemingly unimpressive rooftop, sat roughly 10-11 men and women, dressed in expensive suits and dresses. Normally these individuals, ranging from local politicians to business tycoons, carried themselves with an air of superiority and prestige. This moment they looked more like your average family watching a broadcast concerning a tornado. Distraught at the news, scared it might come their way. 

In the middle, like a static island in an unnerved sea, perched Oswald Cobblepot on a red leather recliner. 

The image slowly tilted downwards. A wave of fright went through the room at the sight, amplified by a dozen humans suddenly holding their breaths. Oswald grinned. He got up and calmly walked over and placed himself next to the screen, pointing nonchalantly at the tiny figure on the podium. 

"Ladies and gentlemen. I insisted on your presence here today, as i wanted to show you something. This... Cockroach. This obstinate buffoon, deluded by his twisted dreams of grandeur, has dared challenge us. You all know of the episode which happened here just seven days ago, and i assure you, if we do not nip this perverted excuse for an uprising at the bud, it will not be the last." The finger began circling the crowd. "We may not think much of these 'people', but even though they're anarchists, tramps and derelicts... They're numerous. 

The Joker is contagious. His influence spreads like a plague, and therefor he becomes a symbol." The hand returns to Oswald's side as he turns to face the screen himself. "Simply assassinating him wouldn't work. He'd only become a martyr. And as such we need to send a message directly to his followers." The Penguin shaped silhouette before the TV send a long eerie shadow into the otherwise dimly lit locale. "Wild animals are to be put down."

On queue, the television declared; "In position, sir."

"Do it."

---

Approved. Rick pulled out a flare gun from it's holster in his belt and shot the flickering ball of fire straight up into the air. From four different points in a two mile radius, helicopters rose into the air.

((Sorry for the long post. This one pretty much wrote itself. xD))

[Hope you don't mind a not so little Bird dropping in.]

A new foe hadn’t been in Gotham long, well he hadn’t returned long ago, and he was looking to make a name for himself. There was no sign of the Bat, and word on the street was he hadn’t been seen for the longest time, but a new one ‘nightwing’ they called him, was hanging around making sure people were behaving as best as he could, though this foe was nameless for now, he was once known as a boy wonder. That’s right a Robin of the Bat himself, but after being killed by a second rate ‘super villain’ he had come back from the dead, and with only his predecessor guarding the city he called home he knew he didn’t have to worry about much.

That’s right, Jason Todd was back on the scene and first thing on the agenda was find the damn clown who took a crowbar to him, and then blew up his mother. Word on the street was the Penguin was at it again with the ‘prince of pathos’, and as he suited up in his new costume the boy had figured on a fitting new image, taking up the mantle the Joker used to claim, only this one was more…Practical, and as he took to the roof tops the Ex Robin placed on his Red Biker Helmet, and was taking up the Mantle of ‘The Red Hood’.

The idea of revenge was already making him feel a touch warmer as amusement mile grew closer, and as the streets whizzed by whilst atop his newly acquired motorcycle Jason was beginning to get eager. It had been a while since he felt the adrenaline that came with taking someone worthwhile down, those teachers that had given him more skills weren’t particularly worth the effort, just more of a…Build up.

Still the ex-boy wonder knew not to take on the circus head on, Joker usually had some warning system done up. As such he slowed his speed down and took a side street; he was often getting into the lair of a mad man more than he’d care to admit back in the day. With a few jumps, a couple of grapples and the occasional stealth kill on some henchmen, Jason was in. Something was bugging him though, this place was quiet, far to god damn quiet… Originally he was going to bust in guns blazing, take out the clown in front of his goons and take over… Now… Now something was up, as the new Hood took his way into the main building of the Steel Mill again, a distinct lack of guards. Was the Joker no longer a big player in Gotham?

Then came noise, the buzz of a crowd, cheers and jeers and that incessant damn laugh. Instinctively Todd took out his guns, but once he was upon the catwalks he put one back away, listening for a few moments.

”A war huh? I can maximise on a war…But for now I’ll have some fun….” Taking out a few ‘batarangs’ from his jacket and threw them to the big lights that took up the job of illuminating the main lobby, with a couple of crashes and the metal of the ‘rangs hitting the floor Jason took up his Gun, turned on the night vision in his mask and began to take aim.

Penguin scowled slightly at the disappearing lights. He didn't recall that as being part of the strategy. And he should know, having planned the whole thing. Either the boys in the field were improvising, which was unlikely, or somebody else was crashing the party. An additional player has joined the game? Oswald was intrigued. He made no mention of this to the rest of the 'audience' however. They needed to know he had everything under control and that everything was proceeding smoothly. Making himself comfortable once again in the recliner, he watched eagerly. Then the 'theme park' came to life, and he burst into a short grungy chuckle. This was going to be quite the show.

---

The choppers closed in like noisy vultures. Two of them hovered in directly over the roof of the building, while a third took to the ground just outside the main entrance to pick up stragglers. Rick was joined by about a dozen men and women in dark combat armor, dropped in by the helicopters. Like a cult during midnight hours, they circled in around the altar, put on the ceremonial veils, and began throwing offerings. Well, altar being a big overhead window, veils being gas masks, and offerings being tear gas grenades. It's all a matter of perspective. There were going to be sacrifices in either case.

Rick watched the gathered people getting smoked harder than a deer venison. He felt something moving inside, but quickly hunted it down and stabbed it to death. There was no room for doubt. The job counted. The pay counted. And so, he was the first to zip line down into the chaos. He was the first to fell a street girl to the floor with a well placed kneecap. And he was the first to pull the trigger on the rifle and blow her brains out. It was going to be a massacre, just like the boss wanted. 

---

"Hah! I must say Oswald, you know how to deliver!" Mr. Burnique the bank manager blurted out at the sight of the grenades going down into the hall. The mood lightened for a bit, but then the camera went down into the hole. The room went silent as the terrified face of a young woman filled the screen, and grew colder as she was kicked to the ground. Slowly, one after one, they left the room.

Soon after, Penguin was the only one left in the room. Bathed in the blueish glow of the screen, he grinned wickedly.

The joker had taken off, that was to be expected, this place was his fortress often filled with what Jason had to admit were some in genius traps, others were simply ‘jokes’ but you never knew which were which until you were either dead, or it simply hung there. In some battles it was a mix of both, and pondering on it for a moment Jason wondered, was Joker truly the most sane and intelligent of us all? He saw the world for what it was, corrupt when attempting justice, black when parading as white, innocent when it hid a dagger behind it’s back. Putting the gun away the ex-robin began to leap over the catwalks, his eyes meeting a figure in the rafters above him, clumsy as it moved it wasn’t someone that had his or Dick’s training clearly.

Landing on top of a thug, there were several cracks of shins and shoulders of a man they were stood with, that brought the attention of several badly painted faces his way, and as the helicopter rotors took up this red masked figures attention for a moment, the search lights began to sweep in through windows giving the thugs a brief look into what they were about to fall prey too. Some were brave enough to try and strike first, but were met with firm grip and a force pulling them off their balance, and as they began to fall towards the still figure. Bringing his elbow down on the gripped forearm there was crack, a scream which was muffled for a second.

The searchlights went away as the confusion began to die down at these sounds, they weren’t bullets, they were a feared noise, the sound of things that went into the night. With the muffled screams of a thug in pain, Jason held him by the mouth, covering it, and grabbing the mans lyranx. A smirk formed upon the mentally cracked Todd as he applied pressure to the air canal and voice box, and pulled it one way in a sudden movement, then the jaw in another. This time the crack rang out as the muffled screams stopped, a sound of choking and gurgling replacing it, then chuckling, a deep smooth chuckle.

The Red Hood stood above the man who was choking on his own spit, trying to scream, unable to swallow, that man was dying a slow horrible death, his chuckle rang out as a search light from a copter outside swam over him. His brown biker jacket, white t-shirt and above all else that blood red mask that covered his entire head, only seen for a brief minute, the search light went off Todd and he moved through the crowd, able to see with his enhanced vision, and when the next light moved over the next spot, he was no longer there, he was waiting and deciding, does he stay and play, or go after the reason he was truly here.