Tommy is seated in the window of a sleazy diner, a huge hamburger in front of him. He's watching the entrance to a bar across the street, where some Cataglia goons are drinking. The diner's not very busy, although the bar _is_, on account of the lack of TV in the city. >From afar, Tommy doesn't think we'll need many bystanders... they'll run when they see you. Batman settles atop the roof of an adjacent tenement house, cape splayed around around him as he crouches, peering through a sleek black set of binoculars at the very same window. He draws a small gun-shaped device from his utility belt, and fires off a listening dart slightly above the bar window. Tommy takes a large bite from the burger, chews it, swallows. He takes a sip from the jumbo- sized softdrink and tips his head to the left, cracking his neck. The bar is packed full of people, and there's quite a bit of noise. The Cataglias are sitting away fromt he window... you can't hear a word they're saying. Batman adjusts his listening device's filter, frowning to himself. He turns it off after finding no setting worth staying with, and decides to resort to trying to read the Cataglia boys' lips via his binoculars. There's about 10 Cataglia boys there...t hey've pulled two tables together in the back corner of the bar and they all seem pretty mellow. There small guy in a pin- stripe suit at the head of the table is facing the window directly. "Ok, boys, I'll pick up the tab." he says. The guy on his left sniggers quietly. "Do we haveta provide the tips?" Batman thinks . o O (...Frankie...or Emilio...maybe. Thats Rufus, for certain...the one to his left..."Twitchy" Spinoza.) Mr. Pinstripe elbows the amart- aleck in the guts and waves over a waitress. Pinstripe gives the waitress some banknotes, slapping her on the rump as she turns away. "Let's go, boys." he says. "Mr. Cataglia won't be so happy, we show up late." Spinoza whines something and glowers at Pinstripe as the others rise. Batman's mouth tightens slightly behind the bincoulars. He lowers them momentarily, and briefly looks at the waiting vehicles parked outside of the bar. The bar doors burst open and disgorge a double- handful of Cataglia goons. The group splits in two and head for a pair black sedans parked right out front. Pinstripe hangs back, muttering something to the bouncer by the door. He hands him some doug. dougH. Tommy mutters. "Damnit. I miss poker night and Dubelz doesn't even show." He shoves the last of his burger into his mouth and stands up. . o O (Mebbe I can make the last few hands.) Batman slowly stands to his feet, putting away his binoculars. He readies to call the Batmobile, and starts walking to the ledge of the roof, near the fire escape. Tommy grabs his drink and stepstowards the door of the diner as Pinstripe steps into the car. The lights come on and th ecars pull out. Tommy steps out of the door , pauses to finish his drink, then throws the cup away even as he starts heading off down the street. Batman begins his descent down the fire escape, moving with a slow, intent sort of pace. He adjusts the cape over one shoulder, and pauses atop one of the rusty flights alongside the tenement. His eyes settle on the back of Tommy...and slowly dwindle into two thin white slits. Tommy's a friendly, if somewhat disreputable looking man of average height and build. His face is regular, not handsome but without any real flaws. His jaw is strong and square, his hair is very thick: curly and black, cropped hort on the sides but longer on top. Tommy's eyes are concealed by a pair of opaque black sunglasses. He wears them everywhere: outdoors, indoors, day & night. Despite this, he seems a friendly sort. Tommy's wearing a black- t-shirt tucked into a pair of faded blue jeans. His jeans are bloused over a pair of scuffed black GPs. He's wearing a tatty green trenchcoat over the top. Batman thinks . o O (Monaghan.) Tommy slows his stride. He thinks . o O ( Uh, damnit. Where'd that come from? ) Batman flings a Batarang across from the landing to the support of a flashing neon sign across the way. He lifts himself up and over the railing of the fire escape, and swings out in a wide semi-circular arc to land in an alleyway adjacent to Tommy's current position. . o O (He must be after the Cataglias...) Tommy shoves his hands in his coat and glances around without changign direction. . o O (Nuthin'...) Tommy scratches his jaw, glancing to the right, across the street. He conceals his nervousness well. Batman creeps up through the debris strewn sidestreet, moving perpenicular to Tommy, until he gets a little ahead of him. He crosses over, and pauses in the shadows cast by a broken refrigerator resting by the opening into the alleyway. "Monaghan..." he calls, his voice flat, and cold. Tommy stops dead in his tracks. "Bats." he says. "Uh, if this is about that litterin' thing, I can explain. See, those drink cups are biodegradable..." His shadowy form growing slightly more distinct amidst the alley, the Caped Crusader leans forwards slightly. "I'm surprised you're still alive...guess you've been lucky. Until now." Tommyadopts an expression of mock- surpise. "What, they give you the chair for litterin'?!" he asks. Tommy thinks . o O (Easy, Tommy. Easy...) You paged Guest1 with 'Well, lets see...I'd like to have more Gotham Feature Cops (Bock, Bullock, etc). As far as superheroes...Robin, Nightwing...but only if you're really interested in those characters. Play what you want.'. Teeth flashing, Batman says "...The Joker usually doesn't let people who try to kill him off without a little pain. Unless...you've made an agreement with him..." His voice is closer now. Long distance to Guest1: Batman nods. "Well, the key is...who can you play regularily and come up with TPs for, who you'd log on with and say "Cool, I'm ____"." Tommy's right hand snakes out of his coat, a 9mm pistol hin his fist. He let's it hang loosely at his side, the pistol dangling from his fingers. "If I'd made an agreement with Smiley I wouldn't've spent 3 weeks in bandages." he says. Tommy says "Prolly wouldn't be havin' nightmares, neither." Batman hovers ever so slightly closer, making no noise as he moves. "...So, I suppose you wouldn't know anything about the gentlemen who just left that bar across the way either?" He sounds very dubious. Tommy says "Them? I heard they were meetin' with some of Dubelz' goons. Dubelz I gotta keep tabs on. But looks like I heard wrong." Tommy takes a step back and raises the pistol, slowly and calmly. "Look, man. You don't wanna do this." he says. Batman titls his head ever so slightly, contemplative. He glances further up the street, saying "...Dublez? No. I don't think thats who they're planning to deal with..." A black gloved hand points out of the murk at you, or the pistol. Maybe both. "I don't think you want to do that." Tommy says "you're right. I'd rather wait til someone's payin me for it. But if you're gonna force the issue I got no choice." Batman thinks . o O (Dublez doesn't have anything to do with the Joker...could be a coincidence. Still, there's plenty I'm sure this punk could fill me in on regarding the plans the Joker has...rumors at the least.) Tommy steps back again, letting his jack fall open. His left hand slips inside... and emerges with a box of cigarettes. "You don't wanna take me in, man. I'm lookin' for the same thing you are right now." Batman furrows his brows, his other hand gripping the edge of his cape while he speaks. "...Is that right?" He gives a humorless twist of his lips. Tommy shakes out a cigratee one- handed and puts it in his mouth. He replaces it in his coat. "Yep. IT's pretty bovious SMiley's up to somethin' big right now... and frankly I'm scared." You say "You should be." Tommyproduces a small silver lighter. He flicks it open with his left hand. "So should you." he says, the muzzle of the gun in his right hand never wavering. Batman shifts his stance slightly, taking a vaugely less threatening bearing. He works his jaw, obviously resisting an urge to do something violent to Tommy's person. "Alright Monaghan...what else do you know? Someone like you has to know why the Cataglia's are hitting up their usual marks for even more cash lately." Tommy tips his head forward as he lights the cigarette. He inhales a lungful of carcinogens, the takes the cigarette from his mouth. He exhales a stream of smoke and says "We're on the Cataglias again?" Tommy says "I ain't sure what they're doin'. I heard this was a meeting with Dubelz' guys, dunno what about, but it looks like I was wrong. Else Dubelz' guys left before I got here. I could take a pretty good guess, though." Tommy takes another drag from his cigarette, watching you from behind the shades. Batman glances with apparent casualness at the sky. "...I think they're going to be arranging things for a hit on their main source of business. By...the Joker." He returns his attention to you. "But I suppose that doesn't really effect you, now, does it?" Tommy says "First I heard of it." Batman thinks . o O (Nothing...) Tommy says "Nuthin'." Tommy smiles obtusely. Batman starts to speak, but twitches when Tommy speaks. He gives a long wary stare at the Hitman, and takes a more defensive stance. "...right. You can offer me nothing that I don't already know." Tommy tips his head to the right. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." he says. Batman sneers slightly. "...so what are you selling tonight, Monaghan? Going to offer to kill the Joker again?" Tommy says "If I get the chance I will. But that ain't it." Batman grits his teeth. "So...what?" Tommy gestures at you with the gun. "I give you some info about the Cataglias other activities will you let me go without makin' me shoot you?" Batman thinks . o O (Wasting my time. Time during which the Joker could be killing.) Tommy says "I think that's a more than fair deal, seein' as how I'm holdin' the aces right now." Tommy thinks . o O (Steady...) Batman tilts his head. "Alright, Monaghan. Give me the information. If its worth my time, maybe you won't have to use that gun." He crosses his arms over his chest. Tommy says "Thatw as Frankie Macelli in there, I presume you just saw 'im leave?" Batman gives a terse nod. You can almost hear the clock ticking. Tommy says "Well, him an' the boys are the ones arranged the Scachetti massacre. You know, where those 6 Scatchetti guys gotten whacked out ont he docks a week ago? It was a dope deal." Batman nods once again, his mouth a thin set line. Tommy says "Macelli an' his boys arrived just after the dealers. Killed all of Scchetti's guys and 3 dealers... took the money and the product." You say "Go on." Tommy says "I dunno if this is for Cataglia or a little sidelinin', but hey... I don't think you really care." You say "...You're probably right." Tommy takes another drag from his cigarette. "Yeah, I prolly am." he says. Batman simmers quietly for a few moments, and turns slowly. "...alright, Monaghan. Anything else you feel like mentioning?" He rests a hand on his belt. Tommy's hold on the pistol tightens. "Yes." he says. "Now you mention it..." Tommy says "... my wrist's gettin' tired, and the Joker's prolly off killin' people somewhere else."" Tommy flicks the remains of his cigarette away. Batman lips twitches, and he turns from you, plodding back into the darkness. "...Catch you later, Monaghan." He fades from view. Tommy stands there, stock still, gun pointed at where he last saw the Batman. A small batshaped tracer rests behind Tommy's neck, sitting silently in the shadow of his trenchcoat's collar. It starts sending a small inaudible signal... Tommy steps back and lowers the gun, exhaling heavily. "Man!" The Batmobile peels out somewhere across the street, and roars off through Manchester's mean streets, gradually fading from sight... Tommy slips the gun away and fumbles out another cigarette. "As if it was bad enough Smiley's ont he rampage." You ascend to the sky above.