The sun set on Gotham's horizon, urging the most cautious of its residents to head back home and lock their doors, mothers ushering their children inside, working men and women leaving the workplace, and returning to the sweet familiar comfort of their houses.
The city was rife with tension, for anyone with soft eyes and the ability to read the goings and comings of her streets, the deals and schemes hidden within dark alleys, between gothic buildings and art deco wonders.
Yet none of those old heads, perceptive minds, and street smart folks could predict the awakening of a monster.
One who ironically enough, wished them no harm.
John woke up right next to a cold body, which would have been rather alarming if it wasn't Killer Frost, pressing him against her just a bit too strong for a sleeping woman, even a ghoul.
She was awake.
He opened his eyes, and saw her looking at him, pale blue eyes watching him with a look that held a thousand questions, a dozen complaints, and absolutely no intention of getting out of bed if she could help it.
Unfortunately for her, he was quite literally brimming with energy.
"Hi there," He grins, breaking the silence and dashing her hopes of a lazy morning–or rather evening. Those things tended to get weird when your cuddle buddy was a vampire.
Louise only groaned in answer, pulling him closer and hiding into the crook of his neck, despite the room being almost in utter darkness, or perhaps because of it.
He couldn't help but chuckle, pressing a kiss onto her cheek, he felt like he just played with a thousand puppies, like he won the lottery thrice over then got the number of that one cute waitress you just can't muster the courage to ask out.
Like he was on top of the world.
"Planning on letting me go sometimes?" He asked, playing with pale blue hair that almost looked like it was made of ice when you looked from afar.
He was very glad that being healed by his blood meant going back to perfect condition, including hair and missing teeth, losing this would have been a shame.
"No," she answered with all the passion of an ice cube, her breath tickling his undead skin in a way that was biologically impossible yet factually correct, "don't move,"
John really wanted to comply with her demands, truly, but there was so much work to do in so little time during nights where his duties simply could not be neglected.
So with a heavy heart, he prepared himself to refuse.
"Okay," He said, pressing another kiss on her cold flesh, right on her jaw, "I guess you'll have to wait another day before we set up your new identity, payment plan and define your duties. A shame, delaying your signing bonus and ruining the possible ice queen image just for cuddles."
There was no actual Ice queen stereotype here, she made cold puns on the regular and drooled a bit while she slept, not that he'd mention that second part.
What she was, however, was a criminal and occasional mercenary who just heard the words 'payment' and 'signing bonus' along with 'new identity'
For metahuman muscle, this was the equivalent of promising a big tiddy goth girlfriend to a gooner.
Louise opened her arms right then and there, not that a ghoul could ever compare with John's previous strength and restrain him, let alone the heights he reached now.
"Okay," She sighed, and sat up, stretching a bit and making the white shirt slip down her shoulder, a sight that John's mind registered, catalogued and stored without a word being spoken, "but it better be good,"
He got up and went out of the room without a word, pausing slightly as he felt each action more swift and smooth than it ever was, feeling lighter and more balanced than ever before.
It was strange yet thrilling, to experience the improvement of his body's natural grace and agility as it went above and beyond its previous limits, knowing this was but the tip of the iceberg.
'It makes the vampire I was in my earliest nights look like a drunk fratboy,' He smiled even wider.
Stepping into the kitchen, he once more started doing something utterly unnecessary yet very much enjoyable, cooking up a very late breakfast for him and his guest.
He felt her getting off the bed and following him, stepping barefoot until she reached the doorway, leaning against it.
For a moment, he wondered if she was just going to watch him, or actually help him do it.
Both would be rather sweet.
Then she opened her mouth.
"What the fuck happened last night exactly?" She asked with all the finesse of a polar bear in an ice cream parlor, "I thought we fucked, it felt like it, but I don't remember any of it…you were just kissing my neck, and then…boom,"
Very elegant, much gentle.
With an inconsequential amount of blood spent, he saw the world slow to a crawl, celerity letting his mind operate at a speed that stretched one second into a hundred.
He weighed the pros and cons of explaining vampirism outright while brewing coffee, then decided she would probably figure shit out on her own at some point, it wasn't like he would be actively hiding the truth from her.
The longer it took her to figure it out, the more he could tease her about it down the line.
That means he needed to evade the question…
'Hm, I could tease her about being too sensitive? Tell her there's no shame about being too quick, and that I like her anyway…nah, she'll probably freeze the room and mess up the safehouse,' He wondered even as he watched her move in slow motion, and picked up on something interesting.
John smiled, and the world sped up once more.
"Well, now that would be a whole story, but consider it sealing the deal we made, one you certainly profited from tremendously," He said calmly, looking away from and back to the kitchen space, pulling out a pan and preparing some pancake batter while he talked, "How are you feeling? The smell of your powers has changed."
She wasn't about to let it go, but mentioning her powers did the trick, he watched her frown and open her lips to talk only to fall silent and look at her own hands.
Louise picked up a flower from the vase in the kitchen table, and in an instant it froze over.
"It feels different, easier, but different" She said softly, much too low for someone to hear, then looked back at him, "you said I could get stronger…but I didn't expect it to be like this, it's like I'm…"
"You're not simply projecting that cold, freezing energy from within, but absorbing the heat outright," He continued with a raised brow and an easy smile, before raising a palm and doing the same, generating mist and condensation.
Louise looked at him, eyes wide and mouth open, and that sight alone was worth exposing that new card of his.
Well, that, and the utter pointlessness of hiding powers that would come in handy from his own allies.
Killer Frost seemed to go through a dozen different questions and expressions, before settling into sheer and utter incomprehension.
"What? How?"
"Let's just say that you're not the only one who profited from our deal," He grinned before returning to task at hand, making breakfast, "it's better if you just learn to accept that sort of things, I heard, it saves you a headache,"
Even with his back turned, he could still perceive her shock and disbelief, warring with the blood bond singing praises as it was proven right.
For someone who carried a power that fundamentally thought John was all it needed, seeing him wield her own power was nothing short of utter validation.
Until eventually, Louise reached the inevitable conclusion.
"Your powers are bullshit," she said like it was an epiphany, a curse and an admission of envy all at once.
John smiled wider.
"They really are," He nodded, stirring the batter, like he didn't just pull a Kakachi on her just by giving her a hickey, "though my own thermal absorption is obviously a lot weaker than yours, I already know I won't have the same flexibility when it comes to constructs, my range and sheer power will be a downgrade,"
He was still absurdly happy with it, obviously.
Still, it worked well at soothing what few bruises Killer Frost's ego suffered. More than most people, Metahumans felt special, and they were.
For people like them, having their abilities copied and replicated would be quite a hit.
"Not to mention the years of practise you have, that's not something I can just replicate on a whim, but at least I have you around to show me the ropes," He said, turning around and grinning, "I guess I'll be in your care, I'm sure I could find a nice way to repay you,"
Alas, she neither blushed nor got flustered, only raising a single brow.
'Ah, yes, murderous criminal doesn't make for an innocent maiden, that's my bad,'
The Chinese novels have once more lied to him, what an utter travesty.
"Spoilsports," John huffed, rolling his eyes.
Louise stayed silent for a while, only to finally find something that wasn't mind breaking she could focus on.
"Breakfast at seven in the evening?" She asked with the same deadpan.
"I got used to it, everyone needs a break and some time doing nothing of importance, even if my schedule is a literal nightmare," He says calmly, buttering a pan and starting to cook, "it's not like I can go play around while the sun's out,"
And that got her attention, if she didn't realize what he was after this, then it was fully on her.
John smiled lightly while cooking up the first batch of chocolate chip pancakes, it was always amusing to see how the minds of people in a world where powers and superheroes were a thing worked.
When you had both Batman and Manbat running around. A whole slew of people getting power from birth or through some freak accident running around for decades, it stops being so crazy.
And thus you end up with people who can outrun sports cars, yet think the supernatural is utter bogus and wouldn't even consider it if Capser himself was giving them a wet willy.
"How come?" She leaned on the doorway, still playing with that frozen flower.
John flipped the pancakes before answering.
"Allergies,"
The very next moment, he seemingly blurred away from his position and reappeared right behind Louise, easily lifting her then placing her on a chair just fast enough not to ruffle her too badly, before dashing around the room to continue cooking, setting the table and decorating, finishing up their breakfast.
All just in time for the pancakes to be ready to serve.
He sat down facing her, on the table two stacks of chocolate chip pancakes, steaming mugs of black coffee, cut and diced fruits along with a single frozen flower back in the vase.
The pancakes had just enough chocolate to be tolerable for his messed up palate, and the fruits would likewise be edible, even if it would all just be broken down and destroyed in his stomach with no benefit whatsoever.
A quick blush of life, and he was ready to enjoy some humanity.
"Dig in," He said, wiping his hands on a towel before taking a sip of his own mug of socially acceptable drugs.
Surprisingly enough, that's what ends up making her blush.
Not the flirting, or the teasing, the touches and skinship and constant reminders that he could, has and will turn her into a puddle just with an unreasonably pleasant and tiring hickey.
But this, the sheer domesticality of the thing.
Even he didn't have the heart to tease her about it.
She cut some pancakes, added perhaps a little bit too much syrup in his opinion, then took a bite.
"Itsh good," She said while chewing, eyes widening ever slightly, then went on to eat with much more enthusiasm.
John only smiled, nodding with his eyes closed.
"Enjoy," He said, sipping some coffee, which sadly enough was the tastiest thing on the table for him except for Louise herself, "we have a long night ahead of us. I'll have to introduce you to the rest of my outfit, then we'll arrange things so you can get a new identity set up, your salary and signing bonus also need to be delivered and regularly scheduled, along with housing."
Louise only hums, sipping from own cup after adding three whole sugars, utter madness.
"Wow, I guess you're taking things seriously," She grinned, "I'm cool with that, am I supposed to call you boss now?"
It probably did sound pretty serious. Being a metahuman criminal who didn't have her own operation was like being part of the gig economy, a freelancer wouldn't expect this kind of support.
Especially in an industry where ending up with a microbomb in your neck isn't the worst outcome.
"You can call me whatever you want," John snorted before shaking his head, "and this is just the bare minimum, you'll be allowed a few more days without heavy duties to get used to your new job, before we include you to our regular workflow. You'll most likely end up serving as a rapid response shock unit for threats our regular personnel cannot handle, while going out for regular raids when possible,"
The same arrangement as Copperhead, though he had a feeling Louise would be less enthused by quiet elimination and more prepared to go in guns and powers blazing.
Both are useful, and once his blood finished tuning her up, she'd be able to handle things going south.
"What about the bat?" She asked a solid question, "he can't be too happy with you and your little friends running around his backyard, and he sure as hell won't like seeing me again, unless it's inside a jail cell,"
Her encounter with the caped vigilante did teach her some caution.
"Good question," He praised, before pointing at her with his fork, "he's way too good not to be aware of our operation, the bat probably already has a well furnished folder on me and my people. But since he has yet to approach us, we can only assume he snooped around and decided we were not an immediate issue,"
Killer Frost snorted.
"Immediate's doing the heavy lifting here," She said drily, and he nodded, there was no denying that fact.
"It is, there simply isn't a world where he and I can just pleasantly ignore each other, confrontation is inevitable," John said with a small frown, biting a piece of apple that just didn't taste the way it should, "we're doing all we can to delay and minimise the chances of it happening, of course. We don't do patrols with our more sensitive personnel, that's something only the above board security company does, honest civilians with paperwork he can't just go around interrogating,"
"Why not?" She asked, which was a fair question, she was a criminal and those people had a healthy and intense fear of the dark knight.
But in this case, it just wasn't needed.
Now it would be different if Batman was some asshole, but despite the multiple character deconstructions, live action interpretations, and grimdark fantasies…he simply wasn't.
John was simply too paranoid to rely on the mass of info he had from comics, so he did all he could to keep a careful but not too obtrusive eye on the bat and the man behind the cowl, to study his character and actions as much as he could…
Without outright meeting the man, that is, he always makes sure to have Harker and Wayne a solid distance from each other despite both having an interest in charities…and the temptations of trying to secure some more funding from the Thomas and Martha Wayne Foundation to ease the burden on his coffers.
'Not until I can daywalk, and have an excuse to eat some garlic breadsticks in front of him, preferably while crossing running water and going somewhere uninvited,'
Paranoia wasn't bad if people really were out to get you!
As for Batman, he simply was not the brutal heartless prick he knew he could have been, given that he was a billionaire who dressed as a bat to beat up the poor and mentally ill.
The worst thing Bruce Wayne did is subject him to a viewing of the clumsiest pole dance right into the Iceberg Lounge…the whole thing on tv, of course.
He'll never be able to look at cream cakes the same way.
"Because it's Batman," John said bluntly.
She didn't look too convinced.
"What about the rest of your crew? I can't be the only one with legal trouble?" She pressed on, frowning a bit.
"You're not, but Copperhead prefers discreet attacks on her chosen targets, taking them down silently and looting all she can before tipping the police," He said calmly, sipping some bitter goodness, "and even then, none of us have used lethal force so far, which is the main deal breaker for him…anything else, he could tolerate with varying amounts of fuckery."
Louise just hummed once more, picking up a slice of apple and eating it without grimacing, like someone who could actually taste proper food normally.
"Just trust me on this, if anything happens, I'll be the one who settles things with him, he's troublesome…" John said firmly, which appeared to do the trick, though it might have something to do with the small amount presence he felt being used since he woke up, "...but I'm something of a troublesome guy myself,"
"Glad you're self-aware," She smirks, but he doesn't answer directly, too busy trying one more time to flip that mental switch that would stop him from oozing supernatural charm.
To little effect.
It wasn't consuming blood, nor was it actively influencing Louise's emotional state like he usually does when manipulating people into having a certain impression or state of mind, or trying to get addicts clean.
It was more similar to the trick he pulls to scare his enemies, or when strolling around the neighborhoods as Johnny Blue Eyes, an enhancement of his own traits and grace, bringing about a mild sense of awe in the observers.
A familiar boost through presence that was more subtle than the other tools in his repertoire, and one he used often in the past.
Only now…it was part of his baseline.
He wasn't sure how he felt about it, the inability to stop a certain ability from working had always been a nightmare scenario for him, but this wasn't much different from the greater grace and balance he experienced before.
'I'll just wait and see,' He decided, as if he currently had any other choice.
The two of them finished what was left of their breakfast in silence, John pausing to send a single message on his pager as he got up to do the dishes the proper way…by cheating with super speed.
Only for Louise to follow him and stand right next to him.
"I wash, you dry," She said simply, and he saw no reason to object, though he didn't think she was the type who'd help with small chores, it was a minor but pleasant enough surprise.
They finished after a short while, though it could've gone much faster if he used some of his celerity.
Sometimes, taking things slow was better, it was a known flaw of enhanced speed to make its user impatient and frustrated by the slowness of the normal world.
Developing an addiction to seeing the world in slow motion combined with the feeling of power that comes with finishing everything quickly, would be far from ideal to say the least.
Just as they finished up, his pager beeped, reading the message, John smiled at Louise.
"Reginald will come to pick us up soon, we should shower and get dressed," He said, going to the bathroom to wash up quickly, "I won't take long,"
He would have liked to try and turn this into something more pleasant than scrubbing and washing himself with celerity, but their ride was literally less than fifteen minutes away.
He finished in a single one.
Stepping out of the shower wrapped in a towel before she could even reach the door, he was happy to see her surprise mixed with the slightest bit of disappointment.
"You have exactly seven minutes," He says calmly while drying his hair, to which she quirked a brow.
"Twenty," She said coolly.
"Ten, and we'd be late," He lied like a liar.
"Fifteen, that would be…fashionably late," She said, closing the door and soon the sound of water hitting the floor indicated the discussion was over.
John smiled with a feeling of victory, messaging Bubbles once more.
"Grab yourself a coffee, we'll probably be a couple minutes late,"
Because he wasn't an idiot, fifteen minutes really meant twenty, at best.
"Sure, boss, might get the snakey lady to relax," He read Reginald's answer, and smiled wryly.
Copperhead and Killer Frost in one car, what could go wrong?
He put on a simple shirt, comfortable dress pants and one of his regular leather jackets then simply waited for his newest ghoul to finish cleaning up.
It did end up taking her exactly eighteen minutes, which he could have spent going back and forth from the Harker Foundation Offices dozens of times with minutes to spare.
Alas, this was the trouble of new talent acquisition, having to pace himself for the newbie.
"I feel like you just thought of something rude?" She told him, wrapped in a single large cotton towel, walking around with the ease of someone who knew she looked good and stopped caring much about it.
He ignored her words, there wasn't really a good answer to that, until his pager beeped once more.
"Seems like our ride is here, you should get dressed," He said instead, smoothing over his shirt, "as much as I like seeing you like this, we have work to do,"
He was once more surprised by how few fucks Louise had to give, when she simply let the towel fall down and rummaged through the closest for suitable clothes.
It contained all manners of clothing, from changes of his own usual garbs, to miscellaneous formal and informal clothes for both men and women of varying sizes.
She eventually settled on a small dark blue jacket over a black tank top and black leggings with a pair of work boots that looked just nice enough to be more a fashion statement than a professional one.
John did not look away for one second.
The council of men would approve.
They came down the safehouse/apartment building and climbed down the stairs to see a model of black Lincoln John was very familiar with, and a suited up former crackhead leaning against typing something on a blackberry.
"Evening, boss," Reginald said, typing some more before shutting down the device and smiling like a man who finally got more than three hours of sleep, then turned to Louise, who still looked right back at him with a cool expression, but it didn't faze him, "Tsk, you sure took your time, had fun of with your lady friend?"
The perks of having a vampire for a boss, and a poison-enthusiast former assassin for a coworker, the man could talk shit in front of monsters and metahumans alike.
"You could say that," John chuckled, cooking up breakfast and cleaning the dishes wasn't exactly what Bubbles was talking about, but it had been fun in a way…it probably said much about the kind of life he lived, that common chores felt like a welcome change of pace, "Louise, this is Reginald Cousin, first of my retainers and greatest hustler this side of the country, he's also the poor sod in charge of dealing with my paperwork, and steers the ship while I'm napping,"
"So he's your secretary?" She said coolly, arms crossed.
"Hey! I ain't no secretary, I'm the Boss's consigliere, practically his right hand man," Bubbles of course took exception, frowning, but she didn't even really look at him.
"I always saw it more like as being the unofficial COO of the Harker Foundation, who also doubles as my guy on the chair, but yeah, consigliere works…even if it makes us look like the bad guys," John said looking at the two of them, taking a note to step in if their interactions don't improve after some time passed, "Bubbles, I already told you all about her, but this is…"
"Killer Frost," She interrupted him.
The temperature suddenly dropped, even for a night in Gotham, until Reginald's breath became visible and his high end suit and coat were no longer enough to keep him warm.
Bubbles frown deepened, but this time accompanied by a nervous twitch of the lip, his posture shifting a bit as he tried and failed to figure out what to do with himself, before sighing deeply.
"Quit bullying the man, Louise," John said in an even tone, "you can all figure out the pecking order later,"
Because that's what it was, the new ghoul showing the old one that seniority didn't mean superiority, Copperhead had acted much the same back then.
"Why is it always the scary gals with you, Boss?" He grumbled, shaking his head, he too knew exactly what was happening, and felt no more thrilled this time around.
Immediately, the cold rescinded as Louise smiled with a measure of satisfaction.
Again, pecking order.
Bubbles opened the car door for them, and John got in to find himself sitting right next to Larissa, Killer Frost joining in the back right after despite seeing the other woman, and not caring one bit about the slightly cramped space.
Bubbles closed the door behind them, then went to the driver seat, and John would have reminisced about the good old days when Reginald would chauffeur him around every night before his duties grew above and beyond what either of them expected.
However, he was a bit too busy figuring out how he should play this, his other two ghouls on each side of him, both attractive women, both very deadly, none too thrilled to see the other…Bubbles smirk on the rearview mirror was looking rather annoying.
He should have let Killer Frost bully him more.
"Larissa, this is Louise Lincoln, also known as the Killer Frost," He settled for a simple introduction, then turned to look at the very much calm addition to his retinue, "I told you about Copperhead, she's been our single enhanced unit during the day for months, and has performed admirably…just don't mess around with her claws, the poisons are simply deadly,"
He would have provided a similar amount of praise to Louise, but simply introducing her as the Killer Frost was badass enough for her not to mind it.
It worked…technically.
Instead of cooling down the car until it was frozen and ruined, Louise knew better, she just went and sprawled herself over him half way, playing with his hair as he did hers last night.
"It's cramped," She said plainly.
Larissa looked at the newcomer with a poker face, not rising to the almost juvenile taunt…though she did grab his hand, firmly, her claws retracted a bit to allow such action.
"The two of you will be working closely in the future, I expect you to get along, I will be most displeased if a lack of cooperation leads to failure…" He said calmly but firmly, looking at Killer Frost mostly, "...and I won't care whose fault it is, understood?"
It worked as well as it possibly could, which was honestly all he could ask for, and that was with the blood bond giving him a lot of leeway, and his new permanent presence helping smooth things over.
Even then, they weren't exactly thrilled.
Nor were they suggesting a threesome, which means the old tales have lied to him, if he couldn't rely on fanfiction and light novel tropes, then what could he trust?
There was only so much betrayal he, or Paulie, could take.
With that matter settled, a mildly impressed, partly scared Bubbles extended a file from his place on the driver seat, the more thorough exposé of the current situation.
"We still haven't finished setting up the new surveillance network in enemy territory, and we didn't approach information brokers yet, those rats would love to sell their clients in times like this, and it's better to do it only when we're ready for the shitstorm," Bubbles says, "but it's still pretty darn thorough, if I might say so,"
There was intel about each big player and multiple smaller ones, estimate of personnel, vague estimate of their financial capabilities, their known lieutenants, notable subordinates, known associates and alliances, territory and basic personality profile.
Some had more info than others, but it was much better than what he got sent last night.
John read through it, and wasn't sure whether he should be pleased by the competence of his people, or displeased that everything was so utterly troublesome.
He sighed deeply.
"That bad?" Killer Frost asked, still playing with his hair, though Copperhead only snorted.
She obviously had read the report before, and probably had a few opinions on how to manage things.
"Yes, that bad," He spoke calmly, his eyes running through the document, "we're essentially surrounded by well fed mutts looking to make their pack a little bigger, round up some more turf, or just settle grudge with the dog next door,"
"Soooo, Gotham?" Killer Frost said with a titled head.
He paused, before nodding.
"Yeah," He said, the smallest smile fighting to appear on his face, "Gotham,"
At least, there was no major breakout in the Loonhouse, just organized pricks looking to make life difficult for everyone.
"We've got Black Mask right next door in the Bowery," He explained, "the Sionis Crime Family—because I sure as hell won't call them the False Face Society, are one of the smallest players in the big table, all things considered, though they make up for it in aggression and expansion,"
She leaned her head to look at the paper, and quickly read the estimates, before whistling.
"That's the smallest guy? It says he's making twenty million a year! And that's on the lower end…" Louise was wide eyed, this was more than a normal bank would have in the vault, many times over.
"Yeah, but he also has between three hundred and five hundred men on the streets, anywhere between fifty to a hundred skilled criminals running operations, a solid eighty 'legal' security in his casino hotel and at least fifteen men in his inner circle…" John said shaking his head, trying to ease her worries but achieving the opposite, "...so it's not as bad as you think,"
She looked at him like he was an idiot, or taking her for an idiot, which was essentially the same.
"That's even worse…" She said coldly, making Larissa laugh, shaking her head, "what, you've got anything to say?"
Copperhead turned her head, looking at her with those unsettling reptilian eyes, before snorting and looking back to the window.
The dismissal was stronger than any word she could have spoken.
"Five hundred on the streets, means having five hundred soldiers, Louise," John chimed in before things could get worse, lifting her attention with a single finger on her chin, forcing her to look at him, "five hundred units who barely produce any income, yet have to be paid, armed and controlled by actually productive assets,"
It was starting to dawn on her, why bigger wasn't better in this case, he could see it in her eyes.
"That means hundreds of stupid ass goons he has to pay every week, and a bunch of less stupid people he has to pay even more to keep them out of trouble, all the while opening his wallet each time they do mess shit up for him," Reginald added his two cents while driving, "they're bleeding him dry, girl, and his 'inner circle' ain't there for his sweet smile, they're taking even bigger cuts,"
"And he has to pay them all, if he wants them to stay loyal," John continued without missing a beat, "unlike others, he can't rely on bullshit oaths and family ties…I guess that's why he's also working with independent crews, ties with the Armenian and Romanian mobs, huh…"
"I see," She nodded, calmer, "and the others don't have the same issue,"
"They don't," John flipped the page, and winced when he saw the part on the five families of the Cosa Nostra, the Panessa alone had more than two Black Masks and none of the issues, "their worth is in the billions, collectively, and their made men alone are in the hundreds, each of them managing their own crews and operations,"
The perks of running a literal unapologetic Ponzi.
Which made Falcone's empire rivalling and even at times surpassing their collective might and resources all the more impressive.
"Then there's the Triads and Russian mobs running their own crews and operations, with outside support, of course," He added after a while, rubbing the bridge of his nose, and passing the folder to a much more serious Killer Frost who was no longer sprawling on him, "anything else?"
The full question was; anything else trying to fuck me, but John didn't say it, because he had manners and shit.
"Well, there's Batman who might try to fuck you," Bubbles said without missing a beat, "we barely have anything on him that isn't rumors. Plenty of folks selling intel about his usual patrol routes, but he changes those too often for people to take it easy."
Yeah, that sounded about right.
"Then of course there are the times when his patrols are interrupted by whatever nonsense pops up in Gotham by night, which puts every single plan in disarray," Reginald continued while driving, smiling like someone who knew his duties and knew figuring this shit out wasn't his job, "everyone else will also be working 'round him, so that's another problem for you to think about it, boss,"
"Amazing," John said drily, but found no sympathy.
Safe perhaps for Killer Frost, who decided it was time to cut through all the crap.
"All right, you've all got a shit ton of numbers," She closed the folder with mild disgust, and for a moment John worried about her freezing it solid for effect, "who's most likely to try and mess you up?"
"Everyone," Bubbles says without hesitation.
"The Russians and the Triads are unlikely to instigate anything right now, they would at best end up being used as tools by entrenched forces, or remain bystanders and possible profiteers," John shook his head, "same with Penguin, but multiply by a hundred, the man would be more than happy to continue selling shovels,"
"That leaves the Italians, Falcone and Black Mask," Copperhead said.
"Technically, Falcone is Italian too…" Bubbles chimed on, only to shudder the moment she turned around to look at him, "...I'll just focus on driving, yeah, driving's good…"
"..." John looked at the man, before ignoring this whole thing and focusing on what's more important, "Falcone's unlikely to make the first move, he already has everything he could want. The biggest dog doesn't need to fight for scraps, it would just mean risking injury for little gain,"
"He might not start, but you can not be certain of how he'll react, when the blood starts spilling," Larissa said calmly looking at him, which had no business sounding so attractive when it involved a large criminal organization causing him trouble.
"Then the Mafioso or Black Mask," Killer Frost said with a small smile, "we could always pay them all a visit tonight, show them nothing good would come from messing with us,"
John smiled, Louise was already thinking in terms of 'us' versus 'them'.
But it still wasn't a very good idea.
"We could plan strikes on their territories, and the three of us can certainly deal with anyone they can muster on short notice without any trouble," John said with an even tone, watching her smile wider, "...but it would mean attacking known safehouses, multiple at a time and interrogating their rank and file to find their higher up. Each level separate and isolated, whatever protects them from the police, would protect them from us too,"
And her smile faded as quickly as it came, still John didn't stop explaining.
"It would be time consuming, and it would get very loud, very quickly, no matter how discreet we try to be," He said considering that scenario, and coming up with a single outcome that did not insult his opponents intellect, "by the time we reach anyone of true consequence, everyone of value would go into hiding, the safehouses and locations reshuffled and information kept even tighters,"
Killer Frost had a lot of experience taking jobs from criminal organizations, serving as metahuman muscle, and even sometimes planning her own gigs to make some good money.
But she never was part of the underworld proper, more akin to a mercenary, a contracted henchwoman, among other things.
That's probably why her escape car ended up ditching her when she robbed that bank, leading to her arrest and introduction into Task Force X and Waller's sweet mercies.
"So? We can just keep hunting them down, one by one," She said calmly, crossing her arms.
Copperhead snorted.
"Do you expect them to just wait for you to cool them down?" She asked mockingly, shaking her head, "it's better to take the enemy down before they realize they are hunted, otherwise they'll prepare, or get desperate."
Killer Frost wasn't about to take her tone kindly, so John simply prevented the answer.
"As I said, they would go into hiding, keep all information at a minimum, only communicate via secure lines, then either wait us out, or throw their money around until someone actually troublesome shows up," John says calmly, "wouldn't be too hard, heard Croc got out of the madhouse during the chaos, and that guy is surprisingly cheap for what he brings to the table, especially if he keeps mutating."
It was a running gag in Gotham that Killer Croc got more monstrous every time he escaped Arkham, he started off as a beefy dude with scales, but now ended up nearly as big as a juiced up bane and with a much more gruesome diet.
There were currently bets about whether or not he'd grow a tail.
"We can take him," Louise frowned.
"True, but only if he strikes us, and not my regular men," He continued patiently, "and it would get more complicated if he had standard bangers with him, especially competent ones. A dozen well trained ex-military guys with proper equipment? Solid mercenaries? They could be troublesome, and I'm only around for the night shifts, can't rely on me to put out every fire."
"Allergies?" Killer Frost said it again, making Bubbles snigger.
"Allergies," John smiled, before speaking seriously, "that, and if you do too well of a job, it would simply lead to further escalation. Maybe they'll bring out firefly and try and torch Brideshead while you two are fighting Croc? Those scales are tough, and we don't know how poison would affect, he's probably the worst match up for Copperhead, Throw enough money at Mr. Freeze, and they'll essentially counter your powers. Proper soldiers on top, and you're toast."
And that was just if they only hired locally.
"Then you want to sit down and do nothing?" She challenged, and he could feel Larissa bristle.
"Of course not, we do things the smart way, the way that doesn't end up with one of us dead or enslaved by Waller," John countered, soothing the jab with a simple stroke of her cheek, "we size them up, let the gangs maul each other and have their little dick measuring contests, and whenever somebody starts poking into our territory, then we come down on them so hard it's simply not worth it,"
"Huh," Louise seemed a bit surprised but not too displeased, despite the dig at her stint with waller, "It'll be a blood bath,"
"That's Batman's problem," John says in an even tone, "he can go around beating the shit out of the gangbangers to keep them from killing each other. I don't care, so long as they don't do it in my backyard."
"That's cold," Killer Frost says, and John could feel Bubbles eyes widening after hearing her make a pun, which only made her humor funnier.
John was aware that some civilians would be caught in this mess, but he simply didn't have the time to babysit each and every person in the city.
This was Gotham, after all, him working to keep his own domain safe and prosperous was already above and beyond the standards.
Reginald parked the car at its usual place behind the Harker Foundation building, and John readied himself for another long night of planning, reports, paperwork and endless grind.
At least, getting Killer Frost settled would make things a bit more interesting, he might even get to test his new powers in between a couple visits by the rehab centers.
Truly, if people knew, they would demand that only vampires be allowed to enter politics.
Long term thinking is literally the only thing they could do, and short term gains would simply be a very fancy way of committing suicide, or becoming the enemy of mankind…so the same thing, really.
Until a single stray thought passed through John's inhuman mind.
'Wait, I also have to worry about fucking global warming?'
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Discord:
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Hey guys! It's Hamtaro!
Another big chapter here, I tried to work more on character intereactions and dialogue instead of just word salad dumping about Gotham's economics like a freaking lunatic. A reader told me I should do more of that, letting the characters make the jokes and react to them instead of keeping it between readers and narrators.
I'd appreciate more advise, feedback and reccomendations! Almost as much as I appreicate everyone's support and comments : )
Tried to some fluff too, I rarely get the chance to practise it.
Now go drink some water, pet a dog and hug your parents.
I hope everyone had a nice day!
Word Count: 7010 words