Grey's Calamity
npcblank:
theblondebat:
starter post
West Mercy currently seems impenetrable.  Aside from the cavalcade of ERT that’s surrounding the perimeter, the hospital itself is difficult to scale.  Currently the only logical access - if one were to go in unseen and silently - would be through the roof, which is eighteen stories high.
Inside the hospital, Black Mask walks through the nursery, studying each infant, crib to crib.  His goons have assembled the ward’s staff at the nurses station - on the floor, face down.  Only Dr Chen-McDougal remains upright, propped up against the wall as she clutches a compress to her shoulder, trying to apply pressure to the gunshot wound. Â
The rest of the hospital floors are teeming with SWAT, while staff, visitors and patients have - hopefully - been either identified and/or staying behind closed doors. Â A good safety protocol, even if Black Mask and his crew seem to have no interest in any of the other floors except the one with the nursery.
"Very good, very good…" he murmurs to himself, teeth clacking in his skull mask as he regards the babies.  "These specimens will do nicely.  I’ll create a new generation of Arkhamites with them…"  He reaches out a lambskin gloved finger, stroking it along the cranium of a wiggling, loudly squalling child.
Black Maske spins, facing a goon.  He looks at his Armani watch and then growls impatiently, “Where’s Croc? Damned sewer pest! Why isn’t he back yet?  He’s the only thing holding this operation up.  I’d like to be out of here before You-Know-Who arrives.”
"Voldemort?" the goon hazards a guess.
Black Mask stares at him for a moment.  ”No you idiot…Batman.  Batman, THE!!! BATMAN!!!”
"I heard Batman’s no longer fighting crime," another goon contributes.  "I heard he’s gone over to our side’a things.  I heard the Green Arrow’s now acting like the big boss’a this town, tryina hunt the Batman down.  Taken on a Robin an’ everythin’.  Mebbe we should be looking for someone green? Or red?"
Black Mask cocks his gun, and shoots the goon in the forehead. Â The large man drops to the ground like a sack of two-month old potatoes.
"You do that," he sneers.
Batgirl arrives three blocks over from the scene just shy of the closest police barricade currently swarming with news vans and curious bystanders. Morons. If Black Mask were smart, he would have his eye on at least one news channel to make sure nobody got a jump on him. Having the media eye trained and ready to track her progress on top of the SWAT team standing by on a hair-trigger to storm the building at the first go ahead, stealth is her only option. So the front and back doors are out. Unfortunately, there aren't any convenient windows she could slip into either, since most hospital windows require some kind of key to open. Too many stories above Batgirl's head lies the only reasonable access point: the roof. On a normal day, this would be routine, flinging herself across rooftops with a reckless abandon. But one does not simply enter a media hot spot in Bat ears without getting noticed, not without some tricks.
