Gotham Bank Job

November 3, 2014: Gotham Bank is attacked and Deadpool, Rowan and Oracle work together, sort of.


A wretched hive of scum and villainy. You know. Gotham.



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Mood Music:


An explosion rings out in Gotham's Diamond District, followed immediately by the clamor of an alarm. A plume of smoke begins to drift from the upper window of the Third Bank of Gotham, along with the occasional smatter of gunfire. Muffled voices make muffled demands inside. It's a bank robbery, of course, but once that is happening in broad daylight. Not the sort of thing nocturnal vigilantes are commonly around to put the kibosh on.

By a sheer twist of fate, a figure clad in a boisterously loud Hawaiian shirt, unfortunately-high shorts, a pair of sandals and a black and red mask happens to be driving (erratically) down the street in a Hunter S.Thompson-esque land shark. His skin that is visible is a pruned and blemished mess of cancerous tissue and music blares -


… ahem. Music blares uncomfortably loud from the -

"Hey. You. Prose-Pot Pete."


"'Pruned and blemished mess of cancerous tissue'? I have feelings"

I'm sorry.

"I mean it's not like I call you a pruned and blemished mess of cliched writing"

I know …

"Some people. You mentioned a bank robbery?"

It's over there.

"Aha! Time for this bad mother scratcher to let his hero flag fly"

With that, Wade steers the car neatly into a parking space with the squeal of tires and launches himself over the side of the car and onto the sidewalk.


In the Clocktower of Gotham, Oracles monitoring systems go off… And windows with Video Feeds from all sorts of interesting angles of the Third Bank of Gotham are automatically shown on the main display panel. As this occurs, the Redhead in the wheelchair frown and sits forward, moving her hands over the console in front of her, seeking information to corrobate what the visuals are telling her. Police channel and internal bank comms agree - something "Bad (TM)" has just occured.

Checking the other windows on her display, Oracle sighs… no active assets in the vicinity…. so she widens her search.


Rowan knows that sound. That is the sound of an explosion. Which is not normal in these cities, even in the 'rough' city of Gotham. Bank on Earth 81 yes, explosions were a thing Rowan dealt with regularly but here?

The muddy haired young man breaks into a jog and heads toward the sound of trouble. It's probably trouble right? There's no reason for things to be exploding.


Deadpool strolls casually around to the trunk of the car, giving it a Fonzarelli punch and reaching into it once it springs open. From it, he produces the sort of firearm that has no business being in the hands of someone who is not some test dummy for a big military contractor or something. The thing is about half the size of him with a belt of glittering ammunition and "This End At Bad Guy" scrawled near the barrel along with a helpful arrow.

"Alright. Big gun? Check. Thought bubbles?"

- Check. -

"Narrator guy?"


"Alriiiight … " as the Merc With The Mouth steps gallantly towards the Bank doors, he looks sidelong to spot Rowan trotting up the street. He immediately affects a laughable, baritone superhero voice, "Step back! Leave this to me!"

That said, he pulls the trigger and a ball of white-hot metal launches at the door with a satisfying THUNK! It embeds itself in the wood for a moment, beeping ominously before an earth-shattering kaboom sends the door exploding out in wooden splinters along with most of the frame.

Unerringly, Deadpool steps right into the haze, "Ha ha! Puny door is like buzzing of fly to Mighty Deadpool!"


Oracles videos feed show her the carpark and strange looking man in a hawaiian short (Oracle does not even register the lack of length on the shorts) and watches as the door to the building is blown clear. Friend? or Foe?

On another screen, the familiar figure of Rowan appears, jogging towards the crime scene. Pulling up 'Babs' address book, Oracle finds Rowan phone number and taps her comms unit. Rowans phone will ring soon, showing an unknown number.

All this while, Oracles systems are searching for feeds from inside the building. The normal surveillance systems are down - no surprise there. What can Oracle find anything to tell her what's going on up there?


It is a complete and utter mystery to Rowan why his phone would choose this moment to ring. But it does and he stops in his forward movement to answer it. Mighty Deadpool can handle this on his own for a minute or three. Or… whatever it is he's doing. Possible he's robbing the bank? If so he should probably call Nine Hundred and Eleven.

"Hello?" The Blue sounds uncertain and confused.


A couple of cell phone cameras surreptitiously upload footage of the raid on the Bank to the internet and it isn't hard for super cool hackers to find. There are even a couple webcams on computers that are accessible. The scene is somewhat surreal.

A group of men, all clad in suits and rubber masks - a dog, a cat, a horse and Bill Clinton.

"Oh ho hoooo. Someone didn't get the mask memo."

As Deadpool barges in, the four men turn to point the assault rifles they carry at him. They don't hesitate, opening fire on the sudden intruder with extreme prejudice.

"Oh shit!"

The Merc has little time to say anything else as a metric fuck-ton of bullets pierce him, turning his lovely shirt and chest into a pulpy mess of bloody flesh. He takes a few steps backwards, his big gun taking a great deal of punishment as well and clattering smoking and damaged to the floor.

"He alive?" one of the robbers asks.

"Who cares? He's done. Keep loading the bags and waste anyone else who tries to bust through."

Deadpool, a bloody and bullet-ridden mess, attempts to drag himself across the floor with his forearms. A bloodied trail behind him as he goes. Grunting and grumbling as he goes.


As Rowan answers the phone, Oracles green eyes dance. "Good afternoon Rowan. My name is Oracle, you are a friend of Babs. I think we can be friends however, right now, I need your help at that bombing you're about to attend." The voice Rowan will hear is a digital voice…

Oracles searches do indeed bring up the footage from the cell phones, plus some livestreaming ones to boot. The desktop cameras take a little a few minutes longer to hack into, but anyone paying attention will notice the little lights indicating the cams are live.

Those feeds show Oracle the aftermatch of the shootings, she's good but not quite quick enough and those livestreaming phones aren't pointed the right way, and she watches the strange man drag himself across the floor.

"Rowan, there's a man down on the third floor, he really needs help" Oracle doesn't bother waiting for Rowans reply.


Rowan flinches at the digital voice. Too like the Overlords. He has to remind himself that they're not here. This isn't their world. "Very well, Oracle. I'm on my way."

The Dragon Warrior sprouts wings, four of them, feathered and brightly colored and leaps up to the third floor, entering by way of bullet riddled window. He looks quite a site, his spear extending and the bracer on his left arm projecting a shield. Once on the floor he begins to look about for the 'man down' the voice on his phone mentioned.


The other robbers seem to be busying themselves with the vault, leaving the 'dying' Deadpool relatively unattended on the floor. As he spots Rowan, he reaches a bloody hand out towards him. He coughs. He sputters. He has a fake Scottish accent.

"What're you prepared ta doo?!"

Then, like a cartoon, he kips up onto his feet. His shirt is a bloody and tattered mess but the chest underneath it looks perfectly fine save for all the disfiguring scars. It's like he wasn't shot at all. He reaches behind his back, producing a handgun that simply couldn't have been there earlier.

"You here to kill bank robbers too? I got dibs on Clinton. How often do you get to assassinate a president?"

- Gee, I hope the FBI doesn't monitor MU*s. -


Watching the feeds, Oracle frowns as the supposedly mortally injured Man jumps to his feet and produces a handgun. "I don't have comms with this man, Rowan" Oracle says "Can you work with him to capture the intruders and secure the building?"

Now she has a visual on the other young man, Oracle starts to run searches and her green eyes widen at what she finds.


"YOu're going to kill them?" Rowan is ducking behind his shield a bit mostly because he doesn't want to get shot. Already scales are starting to creep up his arms and neck and down his legs, armoring him even as his form changes to something decidedly more reptilian. "Is that entirely customary? I thought imprisonment was the favored resolution in these matters…" Oracle can see Rowan nod, but he doesn't know that. "Acknowledged Oracle."


"What? Nah - I'm just gonna clip 'em a little."

As Deadpool speaks, one of the robbers - the Horse - charges out to see just who is speaking and why. He barely gets a word out or a chance to raise his gun before the pistol barks and catches him right between the eyes. His feet fly out from under him almost comically and he collapses.

"Uh … I missed?"


"No!" Oracles directive comes to late. "We don't kill Rowan, aim to incapacitate… let our comical friend there know that." Oracles eyes narrow.

During this time, one of the scans is to detect any potential comms devices in the area. Using Rowans phone location, she finds a few phones in the area and, shrugging her shoulders, calls them all. Deadpools should ring as well.


Rowan ducks as bullets spray across his shield and skip off his scales. Small arms are probably not the thing to use on him, but a good enough shot would still be trouble for the transformed, spear wielding warrior. His eyes narrow and electricity crackles in his fists. "They do not appear to feel the same way, Oracle."

Then to Deadpool. "I am called Rowan. The voice on my cellular device objects to your killing these people."


"Steve Jobs is dead. Fuck him."

Deadpool is mid-Harrison Ford finger point at Rowan when suddenly Mambo No. 5 starts playing in glorious MIDI format. He reaches for the same place he pulled the gun from, producing a phone which he holds up to his ear.


Meanwhile, Deadpool continues firing at the doorway to keep the remaining three robbers at bay. He doesn't so much as look where he's shooting as spray bullets and hope they get the message.


So, from the way the phones are answered, Oracle has a great idea on who is who. "I'm Oracle. I'm the voice on your friends cellular device there. Please aim to incapacitate… I have Emergency Services incoming… "

Our heroes should hear the faint wail of sirens in the background, drawing nearer, by this time.

Sighing before responding to Rowan "I know Rowan, but we aren't killers. Ask Babs to explain when you see her next. Please just stop them, I have the Gotham PD inbound and you and your friend need to be gone."


Rowan looks at the doorway. Shots are being traded in both directions. Stepping into it to make use of his spear is going to get him shot, probably from the back as well as he front if Deadpool's aim is any indication. Unfortunately Deadpool is not affording him a clear shot either. He does have an idea that could incapacitate the robbers… probably… if it doesn't stop their hearts.

"Deadpond!" He calls out. "I do apologise for this." And with that Rowan throws lightning through the merc with a mouth right at the robbers.

"Aim to incapacitate? Lady - I'm trying. Their heads keep getting in the way."

Deadpool lowers his gun slightly as Rowan calls out to him, his brow furrowing as he turns to correct him. Except, instead of correcting him he gets lightning thrown through him. He jerks around like a cartoon and his skeleton actually becomes visible for a brief moment. If he had hair, it would stand on end. But pass right through it does, striking one of the robbers - the Cat - who goes down in a tazed mess.

"You tazed me … bro …"

Deadpool looks down, his phone now fried thanks to the electrocution. He balls his fists up, roaring at the ceiling.

"That was a girl on the phone! Now she'll never call me again! We'll never get married or have little computer babies with cool masks and the coolest wit! Rowan - you DOUCHEBAG!"


Oracle is watching the antics and sees Rowan's unique solution to the problem and hears what he says through Rowans phone. "Tell him, if he behaves himself, I'll be in touch… but he has to be on his best behaviour from here on in." The woman in the Clocktower actually looks quite bemused… frowning at her screens and this unusual young man. "Report Rowan, status onsite please."


"Eep!" Rowan isn't sure who this guy is, but he seems rather upset. "The Oracle says she'll be in touch if you behave." Beat. "I believe this involves getting less brain matter on the carpet. Call it a hunch."

Rowan's fists crackle with lightning but he hasn't made any other moves to - oh crap. That guy's sneaking up on Deathbrook with a knife. So far the tackily dressed hero has put up with bullets, electrocution and explosions, but it looks like this guy means to plant that blade right in his heart.

"Sorry again!" Rowan's scales change from white to blue and the lightning in his fists dies. This may be small comfort because, as the dragon warrior throws his hand out a deep thrum issues from it, the sonic blast creating a concussive wave to knock the baddie backward.

Of course… Deadriver's right in front of him…

"Er, two hostiles still active, moving to engage."


"God damnit - Rowan! Fuck yooooooooooou—"

As the waves hit Deadpool he is flung away along with the robbers, landing on his back on the other side of the Bank in a pile of criminals. He raises a hand, brushing himself off with his non-gun hand and pointing a finger at his assailant.

"That's quite enough from you. You need to stop just flinging your magic about willy nilly or whatever that is."

At Deadpool's feet, the two remaining robbers groan and reach for their guns. The Merc doesn't even look as he fires his pistol into them, though - funnily enough - the bullets don't strike any vital organs. Instead they just cause a lot of pain and compel the guys to sit still.

"We are no longer friends"


Deadpool is met by stony digital silence. The request was made and ignored…

Police sirens was nearby, getting louder by the second.

"Rowan, pick up all shell casings and depart the area." There's a moment of radio silence "Asks Babs about me "Oracle"…. and tell Deadpool there" yes, the searches are pretty definitive on that "if he wants to contact me, he needs to be less violent…. I will be in touch with him."


Rowan looks down. Shell casings? Perhaps the small metal cylinders on the ground? There are a lot of those. "I do not believe there is time for that." Fortunately the dragon warrior himself doesn't use guns. Just, you know, lightning. And spears.

The Blue waves nervously to Deadpool as he makes his exit. "Oracle says it will contact you again, but if you wish to contact him or her you need to be less violent. I am starting to suspect it disapproves of that." That might be putting it mildly. Exiting the same window he came through the Blue's wings snap open again as he makes for the safety of a distant rooftop. Hey. It works for the bats.


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