without order nothing exists, without chaos nothing evolves

[caballero]

Who: Batman & Wolverine.
What: Good old fashioned vigilantism.
Where: Various places across the city.
When: Over the past few weeks.
Notes: Catching up on some mysterious events.
Warnings: Violence and language.

When he goes out at night, it tends to be to where he's actually needed. The gaps left by the police state are ravines; familiar ones. But sometimes, he has to go find that point he's proving and shove his fingers in the wound to remind them I'm still here - and sometimes, he has company.

The Militia needs to be reminded that they aren't strictly needed because the Militia's chokehold over the city exists by the leave of one word: necessity. The idea and belief that only this organization, this way, can keep Baedal safe, because it's all anyone's ever known. It's wrong - wrong in a factual sense; it's wrong when people go to gangs, or go to Hellsing, to sort out their problems out of fear of the Militia, it's wrong when criminals climb the socioeconomic ladders because they know that the police don't police the rich.

It's wrong in a moral sense, too. Tonight, like many other nights, it's just about facts. The Militia isn't strictly necessary, because two men get here first and do a more effective job at it - he knows (another fact) that the people they save on nights like these more often than not come away terrified. But that's fine. They're there to protect them from harm, not from fear - and civilians aren't who Bruce is illustrating anything to when he (they) do this.

Vigilantism, according to most people, is about extremism, about showboating. Vigilantism tonight is about fast, brutal, efficient work. They leave criminals destroyed and victims shell-shocked but safe, always several steps ahead of the Militia even in their own territory. They don't leave any calling cards, they give no names, and they're in and out as fast as they can, contributing no image, no symbols. They don't need any. Those that are corrupt get the message easily enough. (We're still watching you.)

Comments

[perfectcameo]

"Yeah."

Logan doesn't look particularly sorry, for upped ante -- part of him does just want to wage war, that part of him, the one that doesn't understand what a big fucking waste of time it would be. It's also the part of him that doesn't care about the victims and the injustice of it all but wants to put claws through something that he might find a way to blame for being trapped here. And so, that part gets ignored, let out when he needs it.

He takes a puff of smoke. "You wanna get a beer?" This time it's self-aware -- a crooked smile follows the comment. He is hilarious every time, Tom, tell your friends. (No, even Logan doesn't think he is.) "But I guess you need to stash your new toys."

[caballero]

"Sure."

WHAT NOW, LOGAN.

.. There's not actually any sense of 'I'm just fucking with you' there, either, his body language is completely accepting. Through his mask, Bruce is watching the commotion in the distance behind them, figures they have three, maybe three and a half minutes before it's actually necessary for them to move to avoid detection or tracking.

"I do, yes. I could stand to make an appearance after, though."

Covers are good.

[perfectcameo]

Wait, what?

Oh.

That makes some sense.

The above is generally expressed by way of puzzling scowl, as is most things, but the nod is affirmative understanding, an eyebrow raise like well why not. "The one in Griss Twist, on Archer, above the pawn shop." Like so many watering holes, the names tend to evade Logan, and knows them more by haphazard geography, smells and sights.

[caballero]

A single nod and Bruce drops back down over the other side of the wall, stealth wards coming back on as he does, effectively disappearing. He figures Logan will know to get the fuck out of Dodge on time; he always does.

Later, he shows up at the bar, and by this time in their ... whatever it is, relationship is probably not the word, their association, it's odder to see him in plainclothes than not. There's always a sense that this is the costume. Tom quietly slinks onto a barstool next to Logan, tossing him a look and a barely-there slightly tired smile as a hello. A reddish bruise is blooming on his right cheekbone, but he wears it well enough.