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With This Ring (Young Justice SI) (Thread Fourteen)

Hm... is Zoat borrowing one of the few things from New 52 that somewhat made sense... multiple Jokers operating at the same time?

Also, now that we're somewhat on the subject, anyone see the new Joker movie yet? Is it good? Cause the critic and audience reviews are split - 70 vs 90 %like they are with a lot of DC movies. And none are very clear why except that possibly it's depressing.

... Is this a bad place to ask?

Well, I admittedly haven't seen it yet, but from a lot of what I've seen, the split between critics and audience reviews has little to do with the quality of the film and a LOT to do with reasons that would be a Rule 8 violation to delve into.
 
Hm... is Zoat borrowing one of the few things from New 52 that somewhat made sense... multiple Jokers operating at the same time?

Also, now that we're somewhat on the subject, anyone see the new Joker movie yet? Is it good? Cause the critic and audience reviews are split - 70 vs 90 %like they are with a lot of DC movies. And none are very clear why except that possibly it's depressing.

... Is this a bad place to ask?
The movie is fantastic, the only reasons it gets bad reviews from some people is because it deals with a lot of uncomfortable things that people prefer not to think about and, like all movies with even some aspect of moral ambiguity, people got bent out of shape about how it "encourages violence"
 
Holy shit dude, I don't think zoat is perfect either, but at least I don't type up a snippy comment after literally every single update!

Seriously, what do you want out of this story? Why are you still here?

I've asked V that exact question before. I don't think he answered it then

The source material simply doesn't go into sufficiently exhaustive detail about the magic system

I dunno. "It's magic so it is" is pretty sufficient explanation for a soft magic setting. And magic settings don't get any softer than DC. (Or, for that matter, more inconsistent.) Mind you I much prefer hard magic settings (and hard sci-fi also for that matter), but DC's "magic does whatever and works however this week's writer wants it to" approach works surprisingly well for them.

Also, now that we're somewhat on the subject, anyone see the new Joker movie yet? Is it good? Cause the critic and audience reviews are split - 70 vs 90 %like they are with a lot of DC movies. And none are very clear why except that possibly it's depressing.

I've neither seen it nor read the reviews, but in my experience when there's a huge difference between critic and audience reviews, go with the audience reviews. Critics sometimes lose site of what regular people want out of movies and/or have reasons for pushing or suppressing a given movie that have nothing to do with whether or not most people would enjoy it.

What did he do to Apollo?

Knocked him unconscious (or that part may have been Eris, it's been a while) and helped Eris throw him off a Themescarian city wall into a pig pen. After telling him off to his face if I remember correctly.

To be fair Apollo was being an absolute git at the time and deserved it.
 
The movie is fantastic, the only reasons it gets bad reviews from some people is because it deals with a lot of uncomfortable things that people prefer not to think about and, like all movies with even some aspect of moral ambiguity, people got bent out of shape about how it "encourages violence"

Bob Chipman has a rather different set of criticisms.

https://www.escapistmagazine.com/v2/2019/10/02/joker-review-escape-to-the-movies/

His take is, it's technically well-made but a misfire. "Empty, unoriginal, and boring," are his criticisms.
 
This is more of a Britishism. Americans would say "get along" or something a bit blunter.
Thank you, modified.
I think he's dead wrong and being pretentious but he can be wrong and pretentious if he wants to be
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Why was POLs first thought for gods who could heal madness apollo and not asclepius. I mean asclepius even has two daughters who fit the bill, Iaso (goddess of recuperation from illness) and Panacea (goddess of universal cure).
 
Alternatively he just sees it as something to keep his mental hands occupied while he chats with Robin.

Some people don't small talk well without some form of social lubricant.
oh, that is so very true >.<
Gaming's mine- there's this specific level of distraction where you can still focus on talking, but your brain is too heavily loaded to second guess itself...

...im really liking the back and forth the two have going here- i cant quite finger it, but it feels..well,satisfying watching them affably and efficiently work through the info like this..
 
Guys from Gotham (part 4)
16th February
21:38 GMT -5


I stroll through the Iceberg Lounge's entrance without being stopped by the bouncers, though the thinner one started muttering into his microphone rather urgently once he thought that I was out of listening range. Still too early in the evening for this place to be at anything like capacity, and this is a school night. A cross section of Gotham's rich young things are scattered around the bar area and dance floor, presumably the minor thrill of osmotic criminality making up for the classical tone of the music. I recognise a few of the faces-. And there's Jacopo Inzerillo. He looks up at me like he's completely confused by my presence; not offended, just like it's a thing that doesn't make any sense to him. I politely raise my right hand in a small wave and he nods back before returning his attention to his conversation.

Nice that no one's fleeing, though I suppose it's only been a few moments.

O.. kay. Mr Cobblepot himself makes regular tours of the main hall, making sure that his guests feel valued. However, his position as owner and proprietor means that he spends most of his time in one of the offices. Richard will be working on sneaking in… I need to draw a degree of attention without wrecking the place.

Hm.

I increase power to my environmental shield, float over the railings and drift slowly towards the bar. Getting a few stares and a little pointing, but no one's doing-. Well, after Commissioner Gordon brought up the religious crazies, I've been keeping half an eye out everywhere I go and it doesn't look like any of this crowd are going for their crozius arcanum just yet.

I land just in front of the bar, and smile politely at the young lady working there.

"Sarsaparilla, please."

"Certainly, sir." She turns away, heading for a mini fridge. "Would you like ice with that?"

"No, thank you."

She removes a bottle, removing the cap using the bar's built-in bottle opener with her right hand while picking up a glass from a rack with her left.

"We also do a range of non-alcoholic cocktails, if you're interested?"

"I somehow doubt that I'll be here long enough for a second drink, but I'll try and be a little more adventurous next time I'm here."

She puts the glass down on the bar and I pick it up and take a sip. I'd never had sarsaparilla before I came to Earth 16, and its taste… It's growing on me, slight tint of dentist-water not withstanding.

I take another sip and turn around, looking around the room-.

There's a quiet 'bang' and a rapid series of thumps from the direction of the offices, the momentary stab of alarm swiftly quashed and focused as Oswald 'The Penguin' Cobblepot is informed that I've arrived and heads out to deal with me. Either that, or Richard really bungled the infiltration-. No, there he is. Hm. Thinking about it, it won't be all that long before he'll be able to come here as Richard Grayson. I wonder if he's given any thought to the sort of shell persona he wants to develop to throw people off the Robin-scent?

Another 'bang', and Mr Cobblepot slows from quick-march to stately procession as he enters the room. And he's not going to head to me immediately. No, he moves slowly, greeting four guests by name and holding a short conversation with the fourth. The fact that I'm an empath isn't a secret. And I don't just mean that I haven't been shy about telling people; it's actually online.

Which means that this isn't for my benefit. He knows full well that I know that I'm the reason why he got up and came out here. But while he might think that his short term survival depends on keeping me happy, these are the people his long term survival depends upon. Customers, business partners, not-entirely-clean political leaders willing to make deals with a mostly-legitimate businessman.

He moves away, stopping briefly to speak to one of his waiters before apparently by chance ambling towards the bar. His eyes pass over me, but his gaze is disinterested. Mildly curious at best. It's a lie, but if I couldn't look inside him I doubt that I'd spot it. He arrives at the far end of the bar and speaks briefly to the head barmaid, then turns and ambles in my direction, grinning.

"Orange Lantern! So good to see you!"

"Mister Cobblepot. I do hope that I'm not dragging you away from anything important?"

"Oh, I've always got time for my guests. Particularly guests as well known as yourself. Do you think you'll have time to have your picture taken? We're got quite a collection."

"I'd be happy to." I assume that's his excuse to get me off the floor so that we can have a work-related discussion somewhere private. I half-turn. "Do you have a studio-?"

There's a flash as a woman carrying an old-fashioned flashbulb camera takes our picture, and I realise that Mr Cobblepot is close enough and smiley enough that it looks both naturalistic and semi-posed. I broaden my smile a little and raise my glass in a salute, but the picture-taker is already heading away.

"So, what brings you here this evening?"

"A difference in epistemology. I'm direct; the Bats are indirect. If I want something from someone then I'll either ask for it or trade for it... Or just take it, because there's almost no one who can threaten me."

"Only 'almost'?"

"No one's invulnerable. There was this alien warlord last month…" I shake my head. "Batman is indirect because he can't survive being repeatedly shot. I'm direct because I can. I don't criticise him for that; it's a rational use of his abilities. But it's not me."

I put my glass down.

"I'm sure that we're both very glad that Mister Napier is in Arkham Asylum. Unfortunately, someone has decided that in his absence there's a gap in the market for a Smilex supplier. I hit a laboratory earlier this evening, but I only caught one chemist."

"Smilex is a dreadful product."

"Why kill your own customers?"

He coughs quietly. "I sell alcohol, Orange Lantern. I merely remark on the dreadful personal and social consequences of the abuse of illegal drugs."

"Mister Cobblepot…" I shake my head. "If an individual wishes, in private, to consume a narcotic which harms no one but themselves, I struggle to come up with a reason to stop them. I don't indulge myself-" I raise my glass slightly. "-but all the evidence I've seen is that marijuana is less dangerous than beer."

"Even before I reformed, I avoided Smilex. Even ignoring the risk from the Clown, it's cheap, unreliable and prone to all sorts of side effects that draw police attention. My segment of the market wouldn't have anything to do with it."

"Oh, Mister Cobblepot, I don't think for a moment that you're directly involved. But… You have old friends, who I'm sure that you're trying to shoo back onto the strait and narrow. And perhaps one of these friends might have been involved in an.. apparently legitimate transaction involving second hand laboratory equipment, or heard something about a theft and… Perhaps they want to pass information on in confidence, before friends of theirs get themselves into more trouble than they've bargained for."

"You see, I was there when Mister Napier was arrested for that whole 'Injustice League' business. I had to talk Teth Adom out of killing him, and… I'll be honest with you, I'm not sure I made the right decision by doing that. I agree with you, Smilex is one of those things that just.. doesn't need to exist."

I make eye contact with him and smile politely.

"I really don't want it to exist."

"No sane person does."

I pass him my card.

"So if you should hear something about.. anything associated with this, I would very much appreciate it if you could pass it on? I'm sure it would save you quite a bit of bother in the long term."
 
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I stroll through the Iceberg Lounge's entrance without being stopped by the bouncers, though the thinner one started mattering into his microphone rather urgently once he thought that I was out of listening range. Still too early in the evening for this place to be at anything like capacity, and this is a school night. A cross section of Gotham's rich young things are scattered around the bar area and dance floor, presumably the minor thrill of osmotic criminality making up for the classical tone of the music. I recognise a few of the faces-. And there's Jacopo Inzerillo. He looks up at me like he's completely confused by my presence; not offended, just like it's a thing that doesn't make any sense to him. I politely raise my right hand in a small wave and he nods back before returning his attention to his conversation.
Boy's learned not to mess with the big dogs.

Nice that no one's fleeing, though I suppose it's only been a few moments.

O.. kay. Mr Cobblepot himself makes regular tours of the main hall, making sure that his guests feel valued. However, his position as owner and proprietor means that he spends most of his time in one of the offices. Richard will be working on sneaking in… I need to draw a degree of attention without wrecking the place.

Hm.
As long as nothing explodes, anyway. The scene's only just begun!

I increase power to my environmental shield, float over the railings and drift slowly towards the bar. Getting a few stares and a little pointing, but no one's doing-. Well, after Commissioner Gordon brought up the religious crazies, I've been keeping half an eye out everywhere I go and it doesn't look like any of this crowd are going for their crozius arcanum just yet.
It'd be kind of conspicuous anyway. And I doubt Cobblepot tolerates weapons in his premises.. that don't belong to his security, certainly.

I land just in front of the bar, and smile politely at the young lady working there.

"Sarsaparilla, please."

"Certainly, sir." She turns away, heading for a mini fridge. "Would you like ice with that?"

"No, thank you."
How badass. :D

She removes a bottle, removing the cap using the bar's built-in bottle opener with her right hand while picking up a glass from a rack with her left.

"We also do a range of non-alcoholic cocktails, if you're interested?"

"I somehow doubt that I'll be here long enough for a second drink, but I'll try and be a little more adventurous next time I'm here."
Not that he'd get drunk unless he wanted to.

She puts the glass down on the bar and I pick it up and take a sip. I'd never had sarsaparilla before I came to Earth 16, and it's taste… It's growing on me, slight tint of dentist-water not withstanding.

I take another sip and turn around, looking around the room-.
It's certainly an acquired taste. But a good sarsaparilla is quite nice.

There's a quiet 'bang' and a rapid series of thumps from the direction of the offices, the momentary stab of alarm swiftly quashed and focused as Oswald 'The Penguin' Cobblepot is informed that I've arrived and heads out to deal with me. Either that, or Richard really bungled the infiltration-. No, there he is. Hm. Thinking about it, it won't be all that long before he'll be able to come here as Richard Grayson. I wonder if he's given any thought to the sort of shell persona he wants to develop to throw people off the Robin-scent?

Another 'bang', and Mr Cobblepot slows from quick-march to stately procession as he enters the room. And he's not going to head to me immediately. No, he moves slowly, greeting four guests by name and holding a short conversation with the fourth. The fact that I'm an empath isn't a secret. And I don't just mean that I haven't been shy about telling people; it's actually online.
All the while thinking 'crapcrapcrap, what's he want?'

Which means that this isn't for my benefit. He knows full well that I know that I'm the reason why he got up and came out here. But while he might think that his short term survival depends on keeping my happy, these are the people his long term survival depends upon. Customers, business partners, not-entirely-clean political leaders willing to make deals with a mostly-legitimate businessman.
Correction: 'keeping me happy'

He moves away, stopping briefly to speak to one of his waiters before apparently by chance ambling towards the bar. His eyes pass over me, but his gaze is disinterested. Mildly curious at best. It's a lie, but if I couldn't look inside him I doubt that I'd spot it. He arrives at the far end of the bar and speaks briefly to the head barmaid, then turns and ambles in my direction, grinning.

"Orange Lantern! So good to see you!"
Ah, the theatre of respectability.

"Mister Cobblepot. I do hope that I'm not dragging you away from anything important?"

"Oh, I've always got time for my guests. Particularly guests as well known as yourself. Do you think you'll have time to have your picture taken? We're got quite a collection."

"I'd be happy to." I assume that's his excuse to get me off the floor so that we can have a work-related discussion somewhere private. I half-turn. "Do you have a studio-?"
Sheesh, the Penguin's a fan? Also the cachet of saying 'Even heroes drink here!'

There's a flash as a woman carrying an old-fashioned flashbulb camera takes out picture, and I realise that Mr Cobblepot is close enough and smiley enough that it looks both naturalistic and semi-posed. I broaden my smile a little and raise my glass in a salute, but the picture-taker is already heading away.

"So, what brings you here this evening?"

"A difference in epistemology. I'm direct, the Bats are indirect. If I want something from someone then I'll either ask for it or trade for it... Or just take it, because there's almost no one who can threaten me."
A veiled warning. 'Don't force me to take what I want, please.'

"Only 'almost'?"

"No one's invulnerable. There was this alien warlord last month…" I shake my head. "Batman is indirect because he can't survive being repeatedly shot. I'm direct because I can. I don't criticise him for that; it's a rational use of his abilities. But it's not me."
At least, for now. I still hope this ends up with the Bats getting Dannered somehow...

I put my glass down.

"I'm sure that we're both very glad that Mister Napier is in Arkham Asylum. Unfortunately, someone has decided that in his absence there's a gap in the market for a Smilex supplier. I hit a laboratory earlier this evening, but I only caught one chemist."

"Smilex is a dreadful product."
That's putting it mildly.

"Why kill your own customers?"

He coughs quietly. "I sell alcohol, Orange Lantern. I merely remark on the dreadful personal and social consequences of the abuse of illegal drugs."
I repeat my comment about what people choose to insert into themselves...

"Mister Cobblepot…" I shake my head. "If an individual wishes, in private, to consume a narcotic which harms no one but themselves, I struggle to come up with a reason to stop them. I don't indulge myself-" I raise my glass slightly. "-but all the evidence I've seen is that marijuana is less dangerous than beer."
No comments on this, please. Think of the thread!

"Even before I reformed, I avoided Smilex. Even ignoring the risk from the Clown, it's cheap, unreliable and prone to all sorts of side effects that draw police attention. My segment of the market wouldn't have anything to do with it."

"Oh, Mister Cobblepot, I don't think for a moment that you're directly involved. But… You have old friends, who I'm sure that you're trying to shoo back onto the straight and narrow. And perhaps one of these friends might have been involved in an.. apparently legitimate transaction involving second hand laboratory equipment, or heard something about a theft and… Perhaps they want to pass information on in confidence, before friends of theirs get themselves into more trouble than they've bargained for."
'Friend of a friend', eh? Gives him a nice out if he's hiding any involvement.

"You see, I was there when Mister Napier was arrested for that whole 'Injustice League' business. I had to talk Teth Adom out of killing him, and… I'll be honest with you, I'm not sure I made the right decision by doing that. I agree with you, Smilex is one of those things that just.. doesn't need to exist."

I make eye contact with him and smile politely.
Oh, dear. that would be terrifying...

"I really don't want it to exist."

"No sane person does."

I pass him my card.

"So if you should hear something about.. anything associated with this, I would very much appreciate it if you could pass it on? I'm sure it would save you quite a bit of bother in the long term."
I doubt his associates would give him any guff for flipping, once they cool off.

So far, so good. All very polite and friendly. Which has me looking around for the knives.. or the bombs... Someone might get it into their head to do some backstabbing...
 
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It's a shame Batman hasn't been upgraded against his will by some well meaning prick. Not OL of course, someone else, working for OL, without OL's permission. Then continue to spread the information that Batman can't survive being repeatedly shot until one day someone actually does get him dead in the face with a .50 cal, and surprises both of them that Bats survived.
 
Isn't the Batsuit (and by extension, the various other Bat-family suits) bulletproof? At least, it was by the 80's version, IIRC.

I suppose that wouldn't help if someone shot where the target isn't covered, but that'd be some serious marksmanship.
 
Heh, this one was fun. One of the interesting and refreshing things about this fic has always been OL's ability to actually get along with villains when they aren't trying to kill him.
"Mister Cobblepot? I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse."
You jest, but it's kind of true. It also highlights how OL's practicality-based approach to dangerous people has a bit of a mafia-ish flavor to it.
Isn't the Batsuit (and by extension, the various other Bat-family suits) bulletproof? At least, it was by the 80's version, IIRC.
It's armored to a point. He's not going to compromise his stealth or agility, so I wouldn't count on the non-rigid sections of it reliably stopping anything more than a .38 or a knife.
 
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So..how much of Gotham's Criminal Underworld is going to love OL simply because he "asks politely" instead of sneaking into your bedroom while you're sleeping or in the middle of sex?

Batman comes home and everyone is like "Can we have OL back more often? He's less face-punchy."
 
Heh, this one was fun. One of the interesting and refreshing things about this fic has always been OL's ability to actually get along with villains when they aren't trying to kill him.

You jest, but it's kind of true. It also highlights how OL's practicality-based approach to dangerous people has a bit of a mafia-ish flavor to it.

It's armored to a point. He's not going to compromise his stealth or agility, so I wouldn't count on the non-rigid sections of it reliably stopping anything more than a .38 or a knife.
Actually given the level of material sciences we see its entirely likely Bats has soft armor equivalents to IIIA since we have real world examples of that. Most likely probably better still.
No one really grades using 38 anymore, so 9mm + P SMG ammo or 44 mag are the more likely stuff Bats is likely to run into
 
Actually given the level of material sciences we see its entirely likely Bats has soft armor equivalents to IIIA since we have real world examples of that. Most likely probably better still.
No one really grades using 38 anymore, so 9mm + P SMG ammo or 44 mag are the more likely stuff Bats is likely to run into
I kind of like how the Arkham game series made his armor. It's enough to get hit by one sniper round, or a round or so of machine gun fire, but not more than that without repairs. I remember dying a lot in Arkham Asylum during predator sections as a kid, since it was my first stealth genre game.
 
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