The First Rule (Bats)

[Black Canary]

Players: Batman, Red Robin (NPC)
Location(s): Gotham
Plot Summary: Tim follows a Venom-like drug to an underground fight club and enlists Batman's help to find the source.
--

"Okay, that doesn't look right."

Tim frowned behind his mask as he stared down at the corpse. What had once been a man now resembled an oversized mass of muscle tissue contorted into an unnatural pose, his face strained and purple. Had he been standing, he probably would have dwarfed Superman. Very infrequently had Tim ever seen a person of such gargantuan size. What was more alarming than his physique was the fact that man's muscles almost appeared to have taken on a mind of their own. His structure was just... off. Tim squatted down next to the body and removed one glove so that he could press his fingers to the side of the man's thick neck. No pulse, of course. If he had to make a guess right then and there, he would guess that the man had been dead for only a few hours. Not surprising. There was no way it would have taken long for anybody to find a corpse that size.

The young detective twisted his lips as he tugged his glove back over his hand. Even for as long as he had been in this game, he wasn't sure that he had ever seen something like this. The first thing that came to mind was Venom, but that wasn't known for killings its users. Tim supposed that a massive overdose of the drug could do the trick, though usually it did its most damage during withdrawals... which this guy was very clearly not in the middle of. That brought him back to overdosing, but that would take a lot of Venom, and it wasn't exactly easy to get a hold of. Dick had mentioned a Venom-based stimulant being moved through Gotham; could this be the result? Tim retrieved a small flashlight from his belt and lowered himself onto his stomach so he could shine it on the underside of the man's neck. At least having so much muscle mass helped prop him up, though Tim wrinkled his nose with disappointment when the light was beamed onto the base of the neck. No visible injection site. Weird.

Time to do what he did best, he supposed. Tim took a few minutes to snap several images of the body with the miniature camera in his belt, then collected a few samples before returning to the Batcave. He stood silently in front of the computer, his mask now abandoned nearby and his blue eyes slimmed as he analyzed the chemical compound depicted on the screen and the other windows of information cluttered around it. That definitely wasn't straight Venom, though it looked similar at the molecular level and in its effects. So that begged the question: what was it? And just as importantly, where did it come from? Tim reached up to activate his comm-link and access Dick's channel. "Hey, it's me. Are you still looking into that Venom case?" Tim asked. "Because I think I have a lead."

[Batman]

Dick was all for a good brawl but these people were killing each other. The image of two overly-muscled men duking it out was a funny one. They couldn’t even fight and the only advantage they had was that there arms were roughly as thick and round as car ties. It was like watching the opposite of a sumo wrestling match. Yet as funny as the image was Dick knew he had to break it up. Most of the people who were watching were teenagers and a few college students. He was guessing that these youth had somehow managed to scrounge up enough money to learn the location of these fights. Dick didn’t spot anyone who was in charge of watching this fight. These boxers were a threat to the people around them and themselves. Dick had a feeling that they had been exposed to the venom steroid that had been circulating around the streets lately. Instead of being injected it was ingested which put more stress on the heart than an injection would. Dick needed to know who the dealer was but all his last snitch had been able to tell him was where the next match was.

Good enough.

Dick stood to his full height on the shipping container he had been crouching on and then jumped off of it. He seemed to float in the air for a moment before he landed in the middle of the fight. The two men backed off and after a quick assessment he realized he could take them easily. “It’s the Batman!” was the first thing Dick heard. Then there were literally dozens of voices repeating the same thing. Dick scanned the crowd as the two burly thugs stood there stupidly. Apparently they didn’t know what to do. He spotted three or four men who looked far too dangerous to be spectators. They would be the ones in charge of facilitating this fight. It made sense. Having a referee running about in the middle of the match only resulted in one man being in the way. Having four men ready to shut down the fight and its witnesses was more plausible. “Fight! Fight! Fight!” A chant welled around the crowd and Dick realized that he was going to have to appease the crowd.

The first thug behind him interlocked his fingers together, raised his hands and then slammed them down towards Dick. The vigilante dodged out of the way and he struck the ground. The other thug rushed at him and attempted to swing and Dick blocked that blow to. He moved towards the first thug and pulled out his escrima sticks. Before the man really had a chance to register what was happening he had been hit two dozen times in various pressure points around his body. He collapsed to the ground. Dick turned to face the other thug but saw that the coward had turned and ran for his life. He was the smart one. Then four men rushed at him and for the next few moments Dick was distracted taking them down. In under a minute they were all unconscious. Dick put away his weapons and sprinted after the hulking fighter. He could question him first.

The distant sound of boots pounding into the ground gave Dick direction. As he turned the corner around a shipping container he watched as the clumsy 8 foot tall thug stumbled and then fell into the waters below. Dick didn’t hesitate to dive into the water. As he swam through the murky depths he realized that this was indeed pointless. The heavy mass of the man meant that he had already sank to deep into the waters and Dick could wind up being dragged underneath the water by the weight of his suit as well. As much as he wanted to save the man the fighter would have to save himself. Dick swam back to the surface and pulled himself back onto the ground. He panted for air before he felt a vibration in his cowl. He quickly hit a button on his belt and soon found himself talking to Tim. “I am. I just ran into a few goons playing around with the stuff actually. What have you got for me?” He scanned the waters and watched as bubbles slowly spread across the surface of the water before the thug came up gasping for air. He clearly couldn’t swim and was floundering to keep his chin above the surface.

Dick would save him as soon as he got this tip from Tim. He was in no particular hurry.

[Black Canary]

Tim sat back in the chair placed before the computer; it wasn't the first time he had been so focused on his work that he hadn't even realized that he had been standing the entire time. "You might want to call them an ambulance just to be on the safe side. For more than the usual reasons, I mean." He could only imagine the kind of injuries those guys would have; they might be stronger than Dick, but no way were they faster. "The GCPD's just getting a body in their morgue that makes Bane look like a twelve-year-old girl," Tim continued. "His name's Patrick McLeary, he used to be some B-list MMA fighter before he got busted for juicing. Looks like he didn't learn his lesson, 'cause from what I can tell, he overdosed on some kind of suped-up anabolic steroid that caused such intense muscular growth that it actually crushed his internal organs. Which looks really gross, by the way."

His eyes flickered to one of the images on the screen, where McLeary's deformed figure was on display. There were a lot of things he would never be able to un-see, and that was one of them. "Anyway, I'm still checking out the chemical compound, so I don't know if it's the same one as what you've been tracking, but it's definitely based on Venom." His gloved fingers resumed their rapid typing once Tim had rolled the chair closer to the expansive keyboard. "I'm trying to figure out where McLeary might've gotten it right now. This stuff can't be cheap." Maybe he hadn't purchased it? Tim frowned as his mind began rolling in a different direction. It was a standard business maneuver; have one person support a product and profess to the world how it had changed their life, and the customers came rolling in, hoping for the same results. They hadn't seen anything else like McLeary's death in Gotham - yet - so he could very well be the drug's 'spokesperson' and help sell the product before it fully kicked in and ended up killing him.

If he was the guinea pig, he would have to have frequent contact with the dealers, or at least somebody involved in the whole process. They would want to know what kind of benefits or side-effects he was having. "Hold on, I might have something." Tim pursed his lips as he pulled up McLeary's phone records and began to search for any numbers that appeared on a regular basis. There were several; it took only a few moments to match them to names. The first was his mother - kind of sweet, a little weird. The rest appeared to be unrelated. "I don't suppose any of your new friends are conscious, are they?" Tim asked. "I have a few names I want to run by them." Computers were helpful, but they couldn't tell them everything. It was a shame; sometimes their lives would be a lot easier if they could. He would cross-reference the names anyway. Having multiple sources was always preferable.

[Batman]

The image of the man floundering in the water and weakly calling for help was amusing at the least. Years on the battlefield had given Dick a morbid sense of humor and the image of a muscled sumo wrestler trying not to drown was funny. He was fairly certain that any other man with a funny bone would find it funny as well. Yet at the end of the day Dick wasn’t going to let him drown. Some would say that letting the man think that Dick would was a much crueler act, though. In his defense the thug had tried to step on him so Dick wasn’t going to let his conscience torture him too much about it. Dick pulled out his grapple gun and fired it into the water as he listened to Tim continue to speak. He backed up and quickly attached the cable to a shipping container. The wrestler soon got the point and while the cable groaned and stretched under his weight the fiber steel managed to hold true.

As soon as the man reached the surface of the docks again Dick walked over to him and kicked him on the temple so hard that he was knocked out. Dick grabbed the man by the chest and barely managed to keep him from slipping headfirst into the water as he tied the end of the grapple hook to his ankle. “That’s weird. The guy didn’t suffer from a withdrawal? I thought venom was designed to only kill you from withdrawal effects” This only proved Tim’s point that this was a cheap venom knockoff. Either the creator had a false sense of pride in his own abilities or he didn’t have the connections to get his hands on real Venom. Either way he had to be stopped. “This has to be one of the few times where I’d prefer people actually use the real stuff.” Dick hit a button on his utility belt that would summon the police. He had a feeling the other steroid-hyped junkie was out for the night.

The four thugs and juveniles had probably run off but they weren’t the target for the night.

“You’re the chemic nerd, Tim. I’m not about to dig into all that data if you’re on the case.” Sometimes being the third-best (or third-worse depending on how you looked at it) detective in the family had its perks. There was nothing like shoving the boring stuff off to the younger brother. Dick frowned as he danged off the edge of the docks and turned his attention to the unconscious junkie with his night-vision. “I’m pretty this stuff was cheap. If he could’ve gotten the real venom he would have. When MMA fighters go big they go big. Maybe the original stuff was too expensive so he turned to some type of second-rate drug in a second-rate fighting tournament and that’s how he got himself killed.” He switched the lens in his cowl from night-vision to a live cam that would stream the images he was capturing straight to the bat-computer. “Hold that thought. Check out this guy’s neck. The muscles here are huge. He’s not getting enough oxygen and it’s only going to get worse…no matter he got winded so fast during the fight. He’s going to wind up suffocating himself to death due to the sheer amount of muscle surrounding his neck…” Especially when he’s unconscious.

“Alright. I’m going to have to wake this guy up. Set up a line with Gordon and have him send two ambulances and get some surgeons at Gotham City Hospital prepped. These guys are probably going to need some intense surgery if they want to survive. I doubt these muscles are shrinking anytime soon. I’ll question this guy in the meantime.” He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a hypodermic needle. “This is gonna hurt big guy.” He muttered under his breath as he searched for a vein.

[Black Canary]

Tim shook his head, despite the fact that the motion would never be seen by Dick. "That was my first thought. There were zero withdrawal symptoms. This stuff had to be incredibly fast-acting." Which meant it had to be pretty potent, though that much was obvious just from looking at McLeary. Tim folded his arms and frowned as he leaned back in his seat and stared up at the screen. If this was spreading around Gotham, they would have a serious mess on their hands. Most people in this city didn't think twice about illegal drug use... because other than accidentally overdoses, it didn't typically kill them. There wasn't a lot of this drug in McLeary's system, so unless it was even more potent than Tim thought, there was no way he had drastically overdosed.

"Hey. It's chemist, thank you," Tim smirked. The point remained; Tim would never be able to do a quadruple somersault, and Dick would never have his mind for science. They both had their strengths and when one brother's expertise was required, the other stepped out of the way. It wasn't like he had any real qualms with being dubbed a nerd by Dick, anyway. Coming from him, it was more like a compliment. They had long since joked that Tim was the nerdy Robin, while Dick was the jock one. That made Jason the angry rebel and Damian the bratty rich kid, though he kept those stereotype assignments to himself.

He twisted his lips at Dick's suggestion, mulling over each option. There were definitely a lot of ways that McLeary could have gotten his hands on the drugs, and it was his job to figure out which was the one that had really happened. "Maybe, but something like this?" he asked, bobbing his foot idly as he thought. "You can't just install a grow light and make your own steroids, and Venom's always been miles ahead of the rest. Anything that even comes close to it still isn't going to be easy to get your hands on. Not unless they made it cheaper right off the bat just to hook a few people." Another common sales strategy: buy this half off, buy thirty others full price! It saves money! "Either that or McLeary was a guinea pig, which is my bet. No dealer tries to kill their customers, so they probably haven't realized what kind of side-effects they're dealing with yet."

Tim's blue eyes moved to the portion of the screen where Dick was beaming him the view of the man in question. "Crap. That's how McLeary looked, Dick. I'll be back on the line in a minute." He severed the connection to his brother and instead contacted Gordon, relaying Dick's instructions to provide the ambulances to the man's location. He was going to need to come up with some kind of antidote if more users were going to be showing up. After a few minutes, Tim reconnected to Dick's line. "The ambulances should be there in a few minutes," he said, watching the live view from Dick's cowl. "How's he doing?"

[Batman]

All of Tim’s theories were perfectly valid. The kid really was a thinking man’s detective. He considered all the possibilities and weighed them equally before going for the most logical one. This type of thinking pattern was very effective for someone like him. Dick preferred going with his gut. He still used logic, evidence and the basic tenets of detective work but his instincts were the most important part of discovery. For him anyway. Yet he had no problem deferring to Tim in this situation. He was the one with the bat-computer at his fingers and the brain necessary to make all the connections. While Dick was a competent detective in his own right he hadn’t mastered the art like Tim. He preferred punching things more. “You’re guess is as good as mine. We can only know more when you get any results on his bloodwork.” Dick finally found a vein and plunged the needle into the man’s neck.

The thug groaned in his sleep before he began to jerk violently. Dick narrowly avoided getting knocked into the water by one of his thrashing arms. The grapple gun that kept him suspended above the water groaned as a result of his weight. The man’s violent reaction to the pure adrenaline Dick had pumped him with was as bad as he had expected it to be. He had doubted the thug would have woken up otherwise. His blood had needed something powerful to spark his body back to action. Dick didn’t want another man’s blood on his hands. Luckily this all happened while Tim was contacting Gordon so as a result he didn’t see the shaky image of Dick hurriedly scrambling out of the man’s way. By the time Tim did come back Dick had managed to drag the groaning wrestler’s body back to the surface. It had not been an easy task.

“He’s doing fine for the time being. I think the surgeons might be able to save him. They’re going to have to either find a way to deflate his muscles or remove a majority of his muscle mass to save him but after that he should be fine.” Dick was speaking discreetly into his comm. unit as he stood obscured in the shadows. The thug was wildly looking around for him. Once Dick finished the update he figured that it was time for the interrogation to begin. The thug was still looking around on the verge of crying for a help when a massive cloaked figure seemingly dropped from the heavens. Dick landed on the man’s chest and pushed his knee against his neck; ready to apply pressure if the man chose to rebel. He didn’t.

“Where’d you get the drugs?” Dick questioned as sternly as he dared without sounding like Bruce. Luckily his intimidation skills were up to bar. “I dunno! A guy came to me! He made the offer, named a price and I picked it up at a warehouse at fifth street!” Dick paused. “You break easy.” He commented idly as he heard the sirens in the distance. As he stood to his feet he discreetly lifted the man’s cellphone before swiftly making his exit. Minutes later and he was leaving the crime scene on his motorcycle. As he did he forwarded Tim the numbers on the phone. It was up to his little brother to do all the cross-referencing. “Did you get any of that?” He questioned. He was referring to the numbers and what the thug had to say. He doubted the criminal had known the man’s name and even if he did the numbers in his phone would speak testament to that.

[Red Robin]

Coming up with an answer to this wasn't going to be easy. He would have to find a way to reverse the muscular growth without having it be just as deadly in the opposite direction; removing too much muscle could be equally disastrous. For now, that man's fate was in the hands of a team of surgeons, and it was Tim and Dick's job to make sure that nobody else ended up in his condition. So far, it seemed that they were off to a good start. The younger of the two brothers gave a mildly amused shake of his head. Some people were as tight-lipped as they came when being stared down by the Batman, and some couldn't talk fast enough. It always made their lives easier when they fall into the latter category.

"Yep. Working my magic right now," Tim replied, sounding somewhat distracted as he pieced together the data displayed on the screen. One piece of information stuck out above the rest. One phone number had been on McLeary's records as well, an that was the number that Tim immediately worked to connect to a name. "There's a number here that was on McLeary's phone, too," he frowned. "Martin Beise. He's got a couple counts of possession, intent to distribute... he has to be the dealer, but that doesn't mean he's the one making the drugs." It was doubtful that the actual chemist behind the steroids would be meeting with random people off the street. Just because Beise had a record didn't mean he had the capability to make such drugs, either. There was a lot of complicated science involved in such a thing, most of which a run-of-the-mill dealer wouldn't understand.

Tim rose from his seat and retrieved his mask. "Give me a sec and I'll meet you at the warehouse." He might be the nerdy one, but that didn't mean he was happy to sit on the sidelines all day. He loved being in the middle of the action just as much as the next guy. Besides, what was Batman without a Robin tagging along? He might not technically be Robin anymore but he at least figured that Dick preferred his company to that of the current one anyway. He hoped he did, at least. Tim wasn't sure that anyone actually like Damian's company and if Dick did, it was probably a sign that something was very wrong with him. The dark-haired young man settled his mask back over his eyes before returning to the motorcycle he had parked earlier, and a moment later the engine was revved up and he was on his way out of the cave.

[Batman]

While Dick could bust the warehouse wide open and arguably handle the rest of the night’s activities by himself he had decided to wait for Tim. They hadn’t had much time to work together lately due to their busy schedules and Dick wanted to make up for that. Life had been squeezing him from all sides and he simply hadn’t had time to focus on his little brother. Tim spent a large amount of time on the West Coast which only divided their time further. They had the same goals and destinies but they were destined to accomplish them in different ways. Tim was a leader of the heroes amongst his generation and this meant that most of his time was spent on the West Coast. Dick’s time was spent in Gotham and random places around the globe. Needless to say this meant they didn’t have much time to work together. Luckily this case had fallen into both of their laps.

So Dick stood on the roof across from the warehouse patiently waiting for Tim to arrive. “Oracle, I need you to pull a name for me.” Dick stared down at the warehouse, his lens were modified to scan bodily heat. From what he could tell there were only two people in the warehouse and tons of computer equipment. The sheer amount of technology was making it difficult for Dick to figure out how many people were inside but he was fairly certain that he had it figured out. Another concern was at the back of his mind. He was worried that this technology didn’t solely consist of computers. Maybe there was a bomb or an EMP device hidden somewhere in there. “Name?” Dick switched his lens back to normal. “Martin Bleise. B-L-E-I-S-E.” He heard the tapping of a few keys before Oracle began to speak again. “Bleise, Martin. Caucasian male, 32. He’s been knowing for dealing marijuana and physical stimulants since he graduated from Gotham University. He’s always dealing some different type of steroid which has led the cops to believe he’s just a distributor.”

Dick nodded. “Thanks, Oracle.” He closed off the connection before he returned his attention to the warehouse. He mine as well patch Tim in while the kid was on his way. The Bat-Cave and this side of town weren’t exactly close. “Tim. I pulled up some info Bleise. The guy’s a distributor with some connections to the smart underbelly of Gotham. I haven’t been able to find a connection between him and anyone else yet but he’s definitely a punk. It shouldn’t be hard to squeeze him and get some information. The warehouse he’s in is full of what I assume to be stolen tech and marijuana. This should be a good catch for the GCPD. We could offer to give him an hour head start in exchange for the information we need. " This Martin Bleise figure also seemed like the type of guy who would make a good snitch. If they gave him this favor than maybe Martin would be willing to give them more information in the future.

“Anyway you probably already know that. I just wanted to prove that I can look up information too.” Did asking Oracle count? Dick severed the connection before Tim could make the predictable come-back and returned his connection back to the warehouse. This was an easy enough bust but how long before they found the dimwitted mastermind?

[Red Robin]

He had been on the road for several minutes when Dick's voice came back in through his earpiece. Nothing he said was new information aside from the bit about the warehouse. He must have already arrived, then. Tim sped his motorcycle up, weaving through traffic with a bit more urgency. If there was one thing he hated, it was knowing that someone else was waiting on him to keep up. The last thing he wanted was for Bleise to make a run for it before he got there. Not that Dick couldn't take care of him on his own, but still.

Tim shook his head. Had Dick forgotten who he was talking to? It didn't take a detective to figure out how he had gotten so much information in the time it took to get to the warehouse, and unfortunately for Dick, Tim was not only a detective but also a very good one. "Calling Oracle doesn't count," he grinned, though the line had already been disconnected. How typical. The younger of the two brothers scoffed and muttered a quiet comment, despite knowing that Dick wouldn't hear it. "Cheater." Calling Oracle for info was, to a detective, like someone looking up information on Wikipedia for their thesis. She was always thorough with her research, and Tim would never deny how huge of a help she was, but it didn't exactly qualify as digging up the data yourself.

That wasn't really the part that bothered him out of what Dick had said, though. He wasn't sure how he felt about cutting a deal. Yes, it could be useful, but this was the man responsible for putting a drug on the streets that resulted in a slow and horrific death for its users. Tim wasn't against keeping a few informants out on the streets - in fact, he often found it incredibly beneficial - but a guy like this? He didn't even make sure his own product was solid, so why would any information he handed over be credible? Having an informant out on the streets wasn't much of a help if he couldn't be counted on, and there was nothing that said Bleise wouldn't start handing out another lethal drug later on. Getting some inside information wasn't worth more blood on his hands. Tim frowned with thought as he neared the warehouse. He would just have to wait and see.

Dick's motorcycle was parked near the building across from the warehouse, and that was where Tim parked his own. That must mean his big brother was on the roof already. He retrieved his grappling gun and shot a line up to the roof, then sharply retracted it so that it pulled him off of the ground and up to where Dick was waiting. Tim landed smoothly on the rooftop and returned the grappling gun to his belt. "I can't believe you hung up on me," he grumbled, giving his brother a good-natured elbow to the side once he had approached. "I had a really good comeback, too." Once that was taken care of, it was time to get down to business. "See any changes?"

[Batman]

As Dick stood on the building waiting for Tim’s return he slowly scanned the block surrounding the building. It was the weekend and it wasn’t particularly late. Sure, parties were cooling down and people were heading home but that’s when the true crime started. When everyone was trying to get home safely you had your thieves and your rapists take the pick of the litter. Drug trafficking had become a real problem in the city in the recent months as well. Experimental steroids and drugs based off of their more famous counterparts had become a major selling point for various people in the city. It was a new enterprise that the Bat-Family had just become aware of. This would be the first time that Dick and Tim would be tackling this situation head on instead of seeing the results of it. Dick had assumed that tradeoffs like these could happen anytime during the night or day.

It looked like he was right.

A large man wearing a trench coat walked down the street, his hands shoved in his pockets. Dick’s eyes narrowed as he took in the man’s natural build and way of walk. He strode with confidence and purpose and if anyone was on the street they’d probably cross the street to avoid him. Dick reached up to the side of his cowl and toggled his microscopic vision. One look over the man reminded him of an assassin who had once defeated Batman himself. A man known as KGBeast. Dick frowned. He could have sworn he was dead. The man walked to the door; knocked once and was let inside. Dick’s instincts told him to bust this operation wide open before something happened. KGBeast just didn’t deal with simple dealers. Yet at the same time he needed to wait for Tim. His little brother had been let out of the loop for far too long and he needed Tim to know that he still valued him for man than he valued Damian. So he waited.

Luckily Tim didn’t take long to arrive at their vantage point. Dick was greeted with a friendly elbow jab to the side as Tim bemoaned his lost chance to poke at his big brother’s ego. He chuckled. “KGBeast was in there. We need to get in there now. I doubt he’s there to buy a drug…” Dick walked to the edge of the building. “He might be working for the man mak-“ There was a single gunshot and that cut off Dick’s thoughts. He jumped off the edge of the roof and his cape flared into its glider form. He trusted Tim to follow him. He soared through the air and held his elbows up above his head to protect himself from the solid wood he was about to crash through. The door to the warehouse gave way as Dick crashed through it head first [though he used his arms to protect himself]. He twisted his body through the air and came to an abrupt stop several yards away from KGBeast. He saw Martin Bleise, a timid and shaking man on the floor. KGBeast held a gun to the man’s jaw but his focus wasn’t Martin, it was Batman.

Dick quickly scanned the room and saw someone who looked to be Martin’s bodyguard or hired help. He was slumped against the ground holding his hand against his shoulder. He was bleeding badly and while he could die if unattended he could be saved if an ambulance got here on time. Dick’s guilt was partially quelled by seeing that the man was still very much alive. Yet he didn’t get to celebrate that for long because KGBeast turned his attention to the vigilante duo. The man scooped up Martin Bleise and was about to create a hostage situation when Dick hurled a bat-a-rang at the man’s prosthetic left hand. The machine gun that had replaced KGBeast’s own flesh was knocked high into the air just as the man fired. Martin Bleise took advantage of the distraction to scramble free of KGBeast . The man scowled and lowered his weapon to fire at Batman. Dick dodged behind a computer hard-drive nearly as tall as he was as the man released a spray of bullets. While Dick acted as the distraction he trusted Tim to take KGBeast down.

It was a surprising enough role-reversal since Robin normally served as the distraction but Dick had made the biggest fuss, after all. Crashing through a door wasn’t exactly subtle.

[Red Robin]

Tim quirked a brow under his mask. "KGBeast?" he repeated. "I thought he was dead." Or he had been at one point, at least, unless getting shot in the head was less lethal now than it used to be. Not that dying ever seemed to mean anything, especially in this town. Maybe he was still more out of touch with the happenings in Gotham than he had thought. This seemed oddly small-time for KGBeast, though. Could someone else have taken on the identity? It seemed more likely than Anatoli Knyazev being resurrected and turning his attention from presidential assassination attempts to dealing steroids.

When the gunshot rang out, nothing needed to be said to spur the two brothers into action. Determining how Knyazev was alive - and what he was doing here - would have to wait until they had the situation under control. Tim jumped from the roof as well, but unlike Dick, fired his grappling gun so that he would have a line to lower him safely to the ground below. The younger of the two shook his head as Dick crashed through the door while he ran around to the back of the warehouse. Even as Batman, he still had that flair for the theatrics. Tim, meanwhile, had always been the quiet one between the two of them and that would likely always be how he operated.

Upon reaching the side of the warehouse, the former Robin raised his foot and kicked the door in. Not super quiet, but with the rapid sound of gunfire coming from inside the building, it wouldn't be noticed. He quickly slipped inside the warehouse, moving expertly through the shadows to the source of all of the chaos. When he arrived, he took an instant to take in what all had gone on. One man down but not dead, Dick taking cover, what looked like Martin Bleise about to wet himself, and KGBeast shooting like a madman. Tim's role in this was abundantly clear. First thing first, disarm the opponent... in this case, that would have to be relatively literal. As silently as he could (though again, the gunfire did a pretty damn good job of masking the noise), Tim ran up behind KGBeast and swiftly wrapped one arm around the shoulder of the man's arm-turned-machine-gun. The other arm went around his throat, and Tim's knee went into the small of his back as he yanked back on KGBeast's shoulder in order to dislocate it. He would still be one hell of a threat, but at least this way he wouldn't be able to use the machine gun attached to what was left of his arm.

If they were lucky, maybe they wouldn't have to cut a deal with Bleise. Perhaps keeping a previously-deceased Russian assassin from putting a bullet through his eyes would be enough to persuade him to help.

[Batman]

The gunfire lulled for a moment as Dick emerged from the other side of the computer hard drive. He paused for a brief moment to note Tim dislocate KGBeast’s shoulder. The man wasn’t out of the count; far from it. Yet his most dangerous weapon had been rendered useless. If KGBeast didn’t have the power to move his arm than he definitely wouldn’t be able to aim or even muster the strength to fire. That being said the man still had the rest of his body to cause significant amount of trouble and Dick wasn’t going to underestimate him. Fortunately he was distracted by Tim which allowed Dick to utilize a more direct attack method. He began to sprint across the room straight at KGBeast; as he did he reached into his utility belt and pulled out his modified knuckle busters. KGBeast could take a few superficial blows without dropping. Dick was going to see how he’d react to electrically charged ones.

As Dick ran towards him KGBeast reached behind his back and pried Tim off as if he was a bothersome child. He then threw Tim with one arm straight at the caped crusader! Dick saw the attack coming and while he earnestly wanted to slow Tim’s momentum by allowing him to crash into him he knew that would end poorly. KGBeast was using Tim as a distraction and the moment Dick’s eyes was off the target he had a feeling they’d both be dead. So as Tim hurtled through the air Dick simply ducked and winced internally as he felt his younger brother fly over his head. As he straightened up again he saw that KGBeast was wielding an AK-47 in one hand while his other arm was hanging uselessly at the side. Dick was in no mood to get shot so he simply dodged to the side. KGBeast’s gunfire followed him but Dick was moving too fast.

Dick ran alongside a computer terminal and made a hasty decision. He raised his right foot and pushed off of the terminal. The sudden move propelled him closer to KGBeast and while Dick was unbalanced he had his chance at a lucky shot. He cocked his right fist backwards and threw a mean jab a KGBeast’s jaw. The electricity in his knuckle busters sent out a shock strong enough to temporarily rid KGBeast of the feeling on the right side of his face. The Russian stumbled backwards and Dick followed the right jab with a quick cross punch to the man’s gut before he kicked the inner left knee of his opponent. This blow was enough to drive KGBeast to his knees. Dick was about to follow up his attack with a struck to the man’s throat when KGBeast swung up his AK-47! Dick hurriedly grabbed the weapon and redirected it at the wall. The man pulled the trigger and a mini-rocket sailed across the warehouse and blew open a small hole in the wall. Dick let go of the gun as the heat of the discharge managed to sear his hand. Dick had noticed the mini-grenade attachment to the man’s rifle but he hadn’t thought he would use it.

KGBEast took advantage of Dick’s distraction to drop his weapon and grab Dick by the shoulder. The massive Russian head butted Dick and the vigilante stumbled backwards. He blinked tears out of his eyes and was barely aware of his surroundings to duck a vicious swipe of a knife that KGBeast had procured out of seemingly nowhere! Dick soon found himself on the defensive and he was soon coming to realize why Bruce had labeled KGBeast as one of his most dangerous and overrated foes. This might be a little tougher than he had expected. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Martin making a run for it. He would have spared a bat-bola but KGBeast was leaving him no room for era. But the idea of a bat-bola could also help him in this situation. Dick reached into his utility belt and pulled out one of the miniature balls holding the weapon as he continued to hurriedly dodge KGBeast’s swipes. He triggered the bat-bola and was soon holding an improvised weapon. He gripped either sides of the bat-bola and danced backwards to gain himself a little room. KGBeast rapidly closed the distance and Dick again danced backwards and intentionally backed against another one of the massive computer hard drives in the warehouse. KGBeast smiled before he closed in for the kill. As the man attempted to stab Dick in the gut he stepped to the side and wrapped the bat-bola around his right wrist.

Dick then used all of his strength to utilize a judo move to literally throw the man into the computer hard drive he had been backed into moments before. KGBeast didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late. KGBeast crashed headfirst into the computer hard drive equipment and his significant bulk helped drive him into the ground. The man rolled onto his back and groaned. Dick stepped towards him and placed his foot on the man’s throat and slowly pushed. KGBeast gasped for air but wasn’t able to get quite enough to remain conscious. After a few more moments of this Dick raised his boot. KGBeast wasn’t going to be suffering from any permanent brain damage or anything of the like but he wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon either. When he did he’d hopefully be in a nice jail cell. Dick turned and jogged towards the bodyguard in the corner and after seeing he was unconscious called for an ambulance. Hopefully Tim had some information for him or else they would have reached a dead end.

[Red Robin]

Somehow, he had known this was going to happen.

At least he wasn't dead, Tim reconciled as he went flying through the air. To boot, KGBeast no longer had the use of the arm which just so happened to be able to shoot bullets at people. The sacrifice of being tossed around like a ragdoll made it worth it. Sort of. His dignity was probably going to take a bigger bruise than anything else at least, since his training had long since covered being thrown by an opponent whose physical strength outmatched his own. Tim dropped his shoulder and tucked his chin as he neared the ground, allowing the back of his shoulder to take the worst of it before his momentum caused his body to follow suit in a neat (or as neat as it could be) somersault. He rolled several times on the floor of the warehouse before he rapidly got back to his feet. His shoulder was going to be a sore even with the protection of his body armor, but it definitely wasn't the worst he'd ever felt.

By the time he was back on his feet, Dick was engaging KGBeast and Bleise was making a run for what was left of the door. Tim hesitated briefly before charging after Bleise. KGBeast was an intense opponent, but with only one working arm, he would be no match for Dick. Getting Bleise was the priority; he was their only lead right now as far as finding the knock-off Venom went, and the sooner they could get it off the streets, the more lives they could save. The chase led him outside of the warehouse and toward the street. Bleise had gotten a good head start, but Tim had something that he didn't. Tim reached into his belt and pulled out a bola, then expertly flung it at the other man's ankles. Bleise let out a yelp as he fell to the ground, his arms spread out in front of him to break his fall.

"Oh god, oh god, I didn't sign up for this s--t," he was groaning when Tim approached. The younger of the two men crouched down next to Bleise, his elbows resting on his bent knees. "You didn't? Really?" he said skeptically. "You didn't expect any of this when you decided to push a drug that kills its users?" Bleise looked up at him, his expression alarmed. "Whoa, wait, what?" he cried. "I didn't kill anybody, man, that's - I mean, I've done some stuff, sure, but - " "The Venom knock-off," Tim emphasized. "You sold it to Patrick McLeary. He's sitting in the morgue right now because the drug you gave him caused his muscles to crush all of his organs. That's really bad news for you."

The look on Bleise's face made it clear that he had been completely unaware of the drug's side-effects at that moment, as well as the fact that he was not very happy with the news. "Man, I didn't know! I just sold it, it's not like I made it, I didn't know what that s--t was!"
"Then tell me who did make it."
"I don't know! This little scrawny dude, I see him at the club sometimes - "
"What club?"
"I dunno, s'fight club kinda deal, a bunch of these big wrestlers and like, freak ninja guys all meet up and fight for cash, I got a lot of customers there."
"Where do they meet?"

A minute later, Bleise was bound, angry, and trying to figure out a way to escape the zip ties before the police arrived, while Tim was running back to the warehouse where he had left Dick and KGBeast. As expected, the latter had been subdued. "We need to go," he said urgently to Dick as he approached. "McLeary and the guy you ran into aren't the only ones who've taken that drug. There's an underground fight club in the East side and apparently Bleise has sold to some of its competitors." If they were lucky, they could get there before anyone had actually taken the drug. If they weren't, they were going to have a lot of bodies on their hands.

[Batman]

(Let me know if I need to edit this or anything!)

Dick grabbed KGBeast by the shoulder and somehow managed to pull him upright and prop him against the wall. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out reinforced bat-cuffs and cuffed his hands together. KGBeast stirred and Dick struck him on the temple and quickly knocked him out again. It wouldn’t be any fun for the police to take the man in but they would have to handle it. Dick was about to step away when he realized he had forgotten something. He stooped over and quickly took the man’s hidden weapons [dismantled the firearms] and organized them in a stack on the other end of the room. The last thing he needed was for KGBeast to get a drop on any police officers and wind up causing a blood bath. They didn’t need this man on the streets. Dick lifted up the man’s left hand and deftly dismantled his machine gun prosthetic before scattering it around the warehouse.

As he stood to his feet again he was greeted by Tim. It looked like he had made a breakthrough. Dick cast a look outside at Bleise and saw that he was tied up. The idea of keeping him as an informant broke through in his mind but he cast it aside. Now wasn’t the time to get tied up in something like this. He did have a feeling that Tim had made his point. Whether he meant to or not. “We don’t have time to waste then.” Dick said before he turned and sprinted outside the building. The moment he felt the cool air hit his mouth (the cowl really covered nearly everything on his face, it got annoying at times) he raised his grapple gun and fired it at the building across the street. He was pulled through the air and landed on top of the roof. After crossing two more buildings Dick spotted his bat-cycle (with Tim’s next to it). He jumped off of the roof and landed on his vehicle smoothly and in a matter of minutes he was roaring through the streets towards East Side.

“Catwoman is not going to be happy about this.” Dick muttered into his communicator. The woman was fiercely protective of her territory and had slowly been expanding her vigilante prowess across Gotham City. He had a feeling that fighting rings weren’t her concern, though. Hopefully they could handle this situation without her intervening. Dick had never fully adapted to the idea of Catwoman being a member of the Bat-Family. That was something Bruce could handle. The duo continued to ride through the streets and soon Dick was scanning a 3D map of the East Side. “There’s an abandoned baseball lot near the outskirts of the East Side. I bet the fight’s going on there.” The baseball lot was different from most since it wasn’t exactly level with the ground. A year or two ago Joker had blown it wide open and as a result the baseball lot was just a degraded lot that was much deeper in the ground than it needed to be. It was essentially a pit and had become a home for the homeless and a place for dangerous competitions.

“There it is.” Dick said as he noted a chain link fence in the distance. He revved up his vehicle and his bike crashed right through it. For a moment he was riding over rocky ground and then he was flying over the air. He glanced downwards and noticed that there was a full swing fight between one massive men and three smaller competitors. Dick cursed. “I think he’s already taken the serum. I need you to run crowd control while I take the men in the fighting ring down.” Dick angled his bike so that it would land right in the middle of the fighting ring. The vehicle jarred heavily as it landed but that only helped startle the four grappling men in the ring. “This isn’t going to end well for any of you.” He said as he stepped off the bike and calmly surveyed the four men. His eyes flickered to the largest man. His skin was beet red and he was breathing heavily. Dick would have to end this quickly.

[Red Robin]

Upon returning to the warehouse, Tim's attention turned briefly to KGBeast. The man had always been lethal and the fact that he had evidently risen from the dead was a disturbing one. Sure, he wasn't the first to cheat death, but how had he managed to do so? That would take some serious looking into. For the moment, unfortunately, it would have to wait. KGBeast wasn't a threat for the time being. The real problem was anyone who had taken the new Venom-like drug that was being passed around at the club Bleise had mentioned. Getting there - and stopping anyone who had ingested the steroid - was their top priority.

After breaking into a run, Tim followed Dick back out to where they had parked their respective bikes. They would have to hurry. There could very well be more people like McLeary who were on their way to the morgue right at that very moment. His brother's words came in through his communicator, echoing a sentiment that he had shared upon receiving the location of the club. "Yeah, that was my first thought," Tim grimaced. "She'll probably be less happy about a bunch of juiced up street fighters trying to kill each other, though." He didn't mind Selina, but she sure got cranky when anyone else in a mask stepped into 'her' territory. They could deal with that after they had taken care of their present issue. Saving lives was more important than squabbling with Catwoman.

Tim nodded briefly when Dick suggested the baseball lot. It was a good location, and fortunately it wasn't too far away. It took only minutes to reach, and even from a distance, a small crowd was visible. While his older brother went crashing through the gate, Tim decided on a less grandiose entrance: his bike skid to a stop outside of the gate, and an instant later he was running toward the crowd surrounding the pit. One of the competitors towered above the rest, his musculature and his obviously labored breathing making it clear that they were looking at their third victim of the evening. "Oracle, we're gonna need at least a couple of ambulances at the East side baseball lot, maybe more," he said into his earpiece. Though there was at least one man who had taken the drug, he wasn't sure how long it took to take full-effect yet, so there could likely be many more. Bleise had said that he had sold to several competitors here. "Got it," he responded to Dick's instructions. "And you really take the whole 'theatrics' bit of being Batman too seriously, by the way."

Half of the crowd was focused on the added element of intrigue to the fight, and the other half was more interested in fighting themselves once they caught sight of Tim. Within about two seconds of reaching the crowd, he was deflecting a right hook and sweeping his leg out to catch another oncoming opponent in the gut. While doing so, he looked briefly around the crowd. Bleise had said that the drug's inventor frequented the club, and he was the one whom Tim really wanted to take down tonight. "Batman, keep an eye out for a 'little scrawny dude,'" he repeated Bleise's earlier words. "As much as you can without getting your head punched off, I mean." It wasn't exactly a thorough description, but considering a large number of people here appeared to be able to at least hold their own in the ring, a less physically impressive person might stand out.