[b]A Night At The Museum[/b]

[b]Characters:[/b]  Batman (DCAU) and Azumi, with a few references to Spider-Man and Scarecrow, along with other villains inside Arkham City.

[b]Premise:[b]  Penguin's rising up as the premier black-market salesman inside the confines of Arkham City, and is just about ready to go to war with Joker.  It's going to take some finesse, a lot of brute force, and a little bit of manipulation to get it done.

"Well now, it's not right 'aving ye lot botchin' up all me work."  Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot gets up from his table's chair, his umbrella tapping against the floor, a lit cigar in his open hand, enjoying his life's work with the Iceberg Lounge.  "Give me one good reason why I shouldn' toss ye with all the other gaffers."

"C'mon, Mr. Cobblepot, you know all of us.  You know we followed your orders to a T each and every time.  We grabbed weapons, set up jammers, set up strikes against any other person trying to take command..."

"Yeah, and it's not our fault that the Joker's skank and the TYGER guards keep up the pressure on us!  And now with the Bat in here..."

"I've 'eard enough from the two of ye."  Cobblepot places his stogie in the nearby ashtray.  "Ye test my patience with yer botches.  Ye cost me too much time.  And ye cost me money, more 'en what yer worth.  And if you think for one momen' that I'll let ye skate off, yer denser than th' clown and his hussy."  He points at the two goons that talked with his umbrella.  "Ye two, come 'ere."

The two talkers step forward, a pair of twin brothers doing time for arson.  The younger of the two speaks up, garbed in a pair of tattered regulation inmate pants along with a hooded sweatshirt.  "Y... yes, sir?"

Oswald immediately responds by pulling a tiny trigger on his umbrella, firing a bullet from it's tip, the round piercing the younger's right kneecap and causing him to crumple to the floor.  Hearing the younger gasp and whimper from his wound, he takes another puff of his cigar, before blowing smoke into the younger's face.  "I ain't gonna put up with excuses, especially not from the 'ired 'elp."  His attention turns towards the elder.  "Dump 'im in the pit."

"But... he's my brother."

"I DON' CARE!  Either ye dump 'im in, or ye both go!"  He sits back down as he sees the older of the twins pick up his brother.  "An' make it quick.  I'll have ye back out there goin' after the clown again."

It's at this moment that another goon enters the room, out of breath from running.  "Mr. Cobblepot! *pant pant*  Mr. Cobblepot."

"Wot it is?"

"We have an intruder."

"Eh?"  Oswald gets back to his feet.  "Who is it?  The Bat?  The Bird?  Or is it the Kitty?"

"I.. It's none of them.  In fact... It's someone we've never seen before."

"Bollocks."  Oswald pauses a moment.  "And jes' who's watching the bother?"

"Um...  No one?"  Sweating bullets, the tired guard runs back to his post, so as to avoid getting shot himself.

"Roight."  Getting to his feet, he slightly massages his right hand, broken by Bruce Wayne earlier that night.  [i]I still owe that pompous ass a right beating.[/i]  His umbrella tucked underneath his arm, he begins to make his way towards one of the many security centers.

The figure walked in, arms crossed. Armor was black, with navy blue, "ribbed" armor around the body, full plate on the torso. It looked like light armor, weaker than what the Bat wore, but more nimble, allowing more freedom of movement. A light blue circle was on the center of the chest, though it did not show anything. For headgear, the person had a black helmet with similar pure blue marks and eyepieces, a rebreather on the front. There was a wakizashi across the back, the arms seeming slightly bulging, as if concealing something.

Overall, however, the identity was unknown, the person very calm as he or she walked in through the door, a grunt heard as someone dropped for some reason outside. The voice was genderless, but could be construed as male. "Oswald Cobblepot."