Gotham: Panic Attack

Leaping Abhorrence

'Come on!' Groaned Jack from the stairwell, hanging by opposable feet from the rafters of the building. 'I'm waiting for Violet! Fail to bring me Violet, and I will take a distinct vein of pleasure in devouring each and every one of you one. By. One!' Cackled the Creeper, hand standing in order to pick his teeth of the sinews that were officer Redson.

I quiver in my seat, and gesture to Harvey to cover me while I grab my suit. He violently disagrees to this (or as violently as he could without attracting that... thing's attention), and tells me very firmly to stay put.
'Scrap that.' He whispers. 'Get to the ME's room. Lock the door.'
At this, he yells to the rest of the police force to open fire on Creeper. While the bullets repeatedly hit the ceiling - I doubly that that was what Harvey wanted to happen.

Creeper howled with hysterical laughter, and then began some insanity ballad about 'Flower Men and Slender Hands'. Quirking one eyebrow, Jack had obviously realised that the cops had no intention of handing me over peacefully. 'Oookay. I'm gonna play Marco Polo. Do we all know the rules? Basically I say Marco, and then Violet says Polo and then I kill her! All set? Great.' Creeper states with one of his seemingly exceedingly rare straight faces, and then leaps down from the rafters to perch happily on the balustrade. He tauntingly waved at a few of the cops: knowing very well that none of them could possibly even vex him with their tiny little handguns.

'Marco?' Cooed Jack.

With cold sweat lining my brow, I ran frantically into the ME's room - and find Wesker sat on the surgical table swigging a bottle of beer. I snatch it from him and take a drink myself. But I'm not here to just hide...
Or get drunk for that matter.

Rifling through my satchel that I told Ed to look after, I find a bag filled with little silver disks. These are extremely helpful explosive charges that Winn made for me.
With just a minute of time speaking into the device and clicking a button, I have just the ticket to defeat the lunatic outside.

'Marcoooooooooo!' Screams Jack, cradling yet another dead policeman on his lap. 'This is a hostage situation dammit. You're meant to be all woo cry cry cry I need to make one last phone call. Come to think of it, that's probably exactly what you're doing now, isn't it?' Realises Creeper out loud - tapping his feet against the sideboards like a bored little child.
'Polo.' hisses a voice from below him. He looks down with a delighted little smile that just screams 'There you are!', but then promptly screams 'Oh crap.' I'd reprogrammed the incendiary devices to say 'Polo' instead of play the panpipes. Because why not - if there's a opportunity for a one liner in going to bloody well take it.

A flash of light and fire, and Jack is ablaze. He tries to pat himself out, but I simply smile and throw another grenade at him. Gordon looks mildly unsure of this tactic of using incendiary devices inside a mostly wooden precinct. I grin back at him when Jack leaps out onto the (concrete) rooftop.

I thrust the white mask over my face, and then scale the ladders to the roof. However, when I get up there I'm met by something that I didn't exactly expect. Jack is staring down the barrel of a large bazooka; and Oswald Cobblepot is staring at him doing so from behind said bazooka.