Bloodline

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Gotham City; November 26th, 22:07 EDT
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Mason perched in the rafters of an old warehouse, making himself alert. It was one of Penguin's locations for backroom deals - but he wasn't here for him. Not tonight. After the incident with the virtual training, Mason has still been experiencing... visions. Not nightmares, not exactly... but there were memories that had resurfaced.

Not buried or suppressed, just... little details from his childhood that were from so long ago they'd simply faded. Something about a purpose. A schedule. He could remember the old place from him.

Nightmare in more detail-it was some sort of temple or fortress that he'd spent a little time in when he was young. Something about the Demon... and in all of his memories, a woman who looked like him that he only had faint memories of. Mason had never really thought about her mother a lot since becoming a hero, sure she was mentioned here and there a couple of times but he denounces her.

He even shutdown his own girlfriend's mother questions about her, which im sure she knows the answer already (But there goes Paula's blessing if he wants to marry Artemis). He had a family. So he didn't cared. But there was something important he needed to know, and he knew that only his mother could tell her. And that had to lead to him search.

The hard part had been hiding it from Bruce, Dick, The Team, and Artemis. He loved them, but this was personal. This was something he needed for himself. He didn't really want them involved especially Artemis. So he had gone through Bruce's database, searching for known assosciates or... companions... of his father. Most were easy to discount out of hand but didn't help. Some... less so.

Also seeing in his father's file is it that stated he was in some sorta super-soldier program with another guy called Slade Wilson. But when he'd seen the Assassin known as Lady Shiva... something had just clicked. And now, he was pursuing his mother.

She stood in the warehouse below, wearing a red and black outfit that looked elegant and fashionable, but would allow for total freedom of movement. In front of her were Cobblepot and about a dozen armed goons. Shiva was entirely unaccompanied - no back up waiting in the wings, either. Mason had checked. And yet... she almost looked bored.

Penguin: So this is a very generous offer.

He had a thin, nasal voice. An accent like Alfred's that seemed... affected. Fake. Like almost everything about him. He wore a tuxedo with coat-tails and a long top-hat that added to his diminutive height... though, not much. His men were dressed the same, with the addition of porcelain eye masks - the sort fancy people wore to costume balls.

In contrast... each of them carried an assault rifle. More weapons hidden under their dinner-jackets. She could tell.

Penguin: Very generous. One might even suggest suspiciously so.

Shiva was glancing at him with a well hidden look somewhere between revulsion and amusement.

Penguin: So dear lady - might I ask the catch?

Shiva: No catch, Mister Cobblepot.

She spoke with just the faintest trace of an accent. Soft and calm... but with just a hint of the predator that hid behind her polite mask. Mason felt uncomfortably reminded of himself.

Shiva: You will accept the shipment. You will... do whatever you do. Sell your drugs, run your guns...

She could barely contain her boredom. She wasn't even looking at Cobblepot. Her eyes were scanning the room. And then stopped. She was looking at Mason. Right at him. But... that was impossible. Mason froze. Shiva's eyes glinted, and her lips curled into a devilish smile. She turned her attention back to Cobblepot.

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