The Society Wants Your Services (Croc)

[Gemini]

Trudging through the filthy sewer water, Gemini glared at the fetid muck around her boots, thankful at least that she could shut off her sense of smell so that she wasn’t overwhelmed by the stench. It was nights like this which made her wonder why she had ever agreed to sign up for the ‘Secret Society’ at all. They’d told her that Killer Croc would be a great asset to the Society, although she really couldn’t see how an animalistic brute with big teeth would be that useful and anyway Dr Cyber and the others didn’t have to spend their evening wading through disgusting human excrement to find him.

Pausing to stomp on a particularly inquisitive rat, Gemini wondered if another form might be quicker in finding the beast-man. Currently she was in her normal form; a shapely dark haired young woman clad in a form hugging blue leather and metal mesh costume, the beauty of her features completely alien to the filthy squalor around her. Perhaps a bat would be better so that she could fly above this muck...but no, something told her that the...thing she was looking for was close and for the moment she didn’t want to give any clues about what she could do. She would have to keep walking through this disgusting human refuse.

“This crap better be worth it” she growled, her voice echoing loudly down the tunnel as she flicked a piece of god knows what off her boot. The fact that they weren’t really boots, just her own substance moulded to look like footwear made it even worse; if she didn’t find Killer Croc soon she was going to have to break something.

[Killer Croc]

"What crap is that?" The inhuman growl sounded from behind her. Croc had actually been tracking the woman for several minutes now, scenting her a few tunnels back with his heightened senses and, of course, moving to investigate. His eyes burned a hellish crimson as they stared down at the villain, claws slicing through the air as his eight foot tall, dark green scaled body rose and fell with each large intake of breath. Anyone who dared to trespass on his lands met death, but this woman, whoever she was, seemed to have a reason for being here. Whether it was legit to Croc or not, however, was yet to be decided.

"I don't like intruders very much, especially when I haven't had lunch. Who are you, and what the hell do you want?" His lips curled back in a snarl as deadly teeth glinted in the low light, tail sweeping across the filth infested water to send ripples across it's wavy surface. If Germini thought it smelled horrible in here to her, she would have hurled with his nose. Killer Croc, however, was used to the stench. He made his home in the sewers, after all. And where most people would get lost, he felt perfectly at home and able to traverse the tunnels with relative ease.

Of course, the only reason Killer Croc hadn't attempted to kill this chick yet was due to the fact that he was curious. He wanted to know what she wanted, and why she wanted it. There were very few reasons why some super villain would be wandering the Gotham sewers, but he was the biggest. There was a problem, however. Croc was not a very trusting man. If even one thing seemed wrong or suspicious, he would chomp her. Or at least try too. So if what he thought was true, and she truly needed him, then she'd better get a proper act together and quick, or something could go horribly wrong.

[Gemini]

Even though she’d sensed that she might not be as alone as she thought, Gemini couldn’t stop herself jumping at the horrible inhuman growl that suddenly rang through the tunnels, although when she turned to face the scaled green behemoth towering over her there wasn’t a trace of fear in her expression. Gemini wasn’t short but nonetheless the huge bestial figure towered over her slender frame, almost twice as wide as she was. He was impressive there was no doubt about that; those sharp claws and huge frame must give him massive physical strength. He had a tail too; obviously he shared most of the traits of the animal from which he took his name, including senses guessing by how quickly he had found her. He was exactly the kind of ‘muscle’ the society was looking for.


If she were the human woman she appeared to be she would be screaming in fear, but Gemini was much less human than her appearance suggested and would never stoop to scream for help unless she was pretending to be helpless. Instead of fear, Gemini eyed the hulking monster with an air of boredom, a sculpted eyebrow rising casually as she took in the details of Killer Croc’s appearance. She had quite a large repertoire of monstrous forms she could assume, if she wanted to she could easily make herself larger than Croc, but it was still worthwhile committing the details to memory, she did like collecting intimidating forms after all.

“The crap I’m standing in for a start” she answered, lifting her boot out of the sludge and watching it slide off with a disdainful expression. “I don’t know how you can stand living in this filth.” She met his crimson eyes without any sign of hesitation, before deliberately looking down to straighten a glove, completely ignoring the maw of razor sharp teeth in front of her, showing him she didn’t think him a threat to her. “Temper, temper, I’ll warn you I’m not very digestible, but we needn’t get unpleasant; I have an offer I think you’ll like." She gave him her best friendly smile and folded her arms across her chest, the movement deliberately pushing up her breasts, her cleavage already clearly in his view. Perhaps the poor monster was lonely and would be more amenable to dealing a beautiful female face; that was what Gemini hoped anyway, if he wanted to play rough then she could adapt to that too.

[Killer Croc]

He didn't like her attitude. He didn't like her voice. He didn't like her appearance. In fact, he didn't like anything about her, and he certainly didn't trust her. He'd never met her before, and despised meeting her now. She was obviously just another criminal over the line, thinking she was better then everyone else, standing up to him proud and tall as if he were nothing more than a mouse, and her expression was of the most annoyance to the mutated beast as he glared with her in fierce intensity, hellish eyes narrowed. So she had a deal? What a surprise. Atleast he had been right about her looking for him. Her posture suggested that she had been seeking something, rather then hiding from something, or simply wandering about in idle reason. But Croc still didn't know her, didn't want to know her.

He had already gotten a boat loads worth of deals lately. Seemed everyone was out for some willing muscle eager to earn some power and reputation among fellow villains, and Killer Croc was a prominant stop for those such people. But he was a risky business, and one not fully trustworthy, as many of the fools came to find out. And if the deal wasn't juicy enough in the first place, it didn't matter. They'd be dead before they even realized what a mistake it had been to offer. It came odd to Croc that so many knew where to find him, yet the Bat brats had scarcely shown themselves. They didn't seem to bother acknowledging him just yet, which gave him the idea that their were bigger threats about then he knew, but that only made him more power hungry. He wasn't the type that enjoyed acting beneath the radar. He wanted to be noticed, by everyone, and above all, feared.

It was true that not many crimes had recently been on Croc's part, as he'd been stalking his sewer home in the hopes of hatching up something sufficient to catch Gotham's attention. He had already rampaged through a bank, but that had done little more then earn him a spot on the news, and there had hardly been any action. No hero's had shown up to stop him, just some others fool hearty criminal that had been there only by coincidence. And off course, there would be violence as their paths had crossed, but it had been boring, almost casual, even, and to Croc, relatively pathetic.

Used to the vicious punishments Batman could break out, who was also famillier of the latter, the skirmish had been child's play, and not even worth remembering. Of course, he had managed to attract Superman in Metropolis, but what had been the point of that? Now that he thought about it, it had been a futile waste of time. There had barely been any recognition about it since his return and it was only Superman's will to save the innocent that had prevented Croc's return to Arkham. No doubt with several broken bones. He even had a scar on his arm to prove it, from those blasted red beams that shot from his eyes.

He sighed as he realized just how desperate he needed some good meat and softened his killer gaze with a more subdued one. "Tell me of this offer, and I'll consider it." He answered, though his rough voice was still relatively hostile, it atleast didn't possess the rabid intention of obliterating the woman in front of him, throwing goo from her boot in disgust. He blinked in slight amusement, bit it was gone in that instant to be replaced with his usual cold, reptillian gaze.

[Gemini]

She could read the dislike in the monster's expression, which was a pity. In her experience a beautiful face was usually quite effective in persuading men to do what she wanted, she could always change to meet his preferences, but that could wait.

Meeting those cold reptilian eyes with her own icy predatory gaze, Gemini started her pitch. "Recently a number of individuals with goals similar to yours have banded together to form a Secret Society. We offer many benefits to our members and after consideration of your talents, my colleagues would like to extend you an invitation to join."

Stepping forward, an evil smile spread across her lips as she looked up at the hulking monster. "Whatever you want could be yours Mr Jones: Acceptance, power, the freedom to cause havoc, fresh meat, or better accommodation." She gestured around the filthy surroundings dismissively. "All these things the Society can offer."

She left quiet the part about him being one of the lower grade members. This monster might make some useful muscle, but from what the Society knew of Killer Croc brains weren't among his attributes. A useful instrument, but little more.

"Tempted?" she asked, cocking her head to one side as she watched him, interested to see how long it would take the beast to process what she'd said.

[Killer Croc]

Most people mistaked him for a stupid old brute, a hostile beast capable of nothing more then destruction. They were fools to think of such. Croc was actually quite the genius, capable of formulating grand plans. It was the more feral, animal side of him that made him seem so unintelligent. The rage that made him leap into battle without a clever plot, and without such grand plans, but rather a simple display of strength in a swift effort to crushed his opponents. Perhaps such actions were self demoting, especially in the vigilant eyes of other villains, but Killer Croc was a mutant of simple tastes, and cared little for the thoughts of others. Their feelings were of no concern to the monstrous reptillian humanoid, for it was his own mind that mattered.

Croc listened with bored casualty as she spoke her words, idle until his last name slipped so smoothly from her lips. His own peeled back in a low growl of distaste, an aggressive warning echoing through the sewer tunnels as his tail flicked back in forth in a compressed fury that boiled and spun into fiery vortexes within Croc's slitted gaze. His nostrils flared as a heavy breath shook the air and sent the vile smell of rotted corpses and fish attacking the woman, filling the normal, stale scent of the tunnels fleeing beneath that which was far more foul, flowing from the beasts parted jaws. That was a name he no longer used, a name he refused to recognize. Waylon Jones was his past, and that past was long forgotten. Or atleast, until now.

The stirring of the memories of Waylon Jones disturbed the beast, and his towering shadow shifted in response, his frame racked with hardly noticeable tremors of anger and hatred. He wanted nothing more then to mangle the society representative in front if him, so small when compared, and his curved nails curled to scrape the rough flesh of his palm, muscles tensing, teeth grating. Still, he said nothing, for silence was far more piercing of the thoughts then threatening words. His appearance, despite how vague in the darkness, should serve well enough as a warning to the woman. So he listened, for now, still willing to hear out her offer, for it was a promise to greater power. That was something not to be passed up by one so ambitious as Killer Croc.

"I don't need anyone's acceptance." He growled in response as she listed off possible benefits, seeking to find complaint simply in spite. "And my accommodations are well enough as they are." He snapped. Still, he'd have plots, get into more then just robbing banks and fighting other criminals for scraps. There would be work, real work, and supplies too, no need to go hunt them down. A great offer if any, and the alliance with others would serve valuable in the future, perhaps. Yet still, he was hestitant. Killer Croc was a proud man, and sought not the help of others. He was distrustful, a creature of lust, yet also arrogance. Independent, yet also seeking so much more. His tail thumped the wall in contemplation, his hellish eyes adopting a distant look. For a few moments, he simply pondered benefit over losses until it finally seemed as if he'd decided. Croc focused once more on the woman and nodded slightly. "Alright, I suppose I can give this...society, a try." He agreed.

[Gemini]

Watching his jaws peel back, Gemini's nose wrinkled briefly in distaste at the yellowed teeth inside; clearly this monster didn't care too much about dental hygiene. It was lucky that she'd decreased the sensitivity of the cells otherwise the smell of his breath would probably have had her gagging, but even so she still took a step backwards in barely concealed disgust. Obviously the creature had never taken a breath mint in its life.

She was quite tempted to say so, but Gemini knew body language and could see those tremors and the way his claws were scraping against his palm and knew what they meant. Were she not working for the Society she would like nothing better than to provoke this beast, but if she failed in her mission it would reflect badly on her, so, for the moment she once again smoothed out the disgust from her features and replaced it with a beguiling smile.

"Of course you don't, I'm sure you have a wonderful life down here" she replied, glancing at the sewage water briefly, then went back to idly adjusting the fit of her 'glove' waiting while the monster thought her offer through.

"Excellent, the circle will be pleased," at least if Killer Croc could actually do as told. "Be at a warehouse on lower 52nd street at this time exactly three days from now and you'll be given your first mission briefing." Or rather test, but Gemini wasn't going to tell him that.

"Any questions?" she asked, keen to get this over with so she could get back to her penthouse and shower the smell off her.