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“Signal, this is Static Shock. Static, the Signal. I know you both are around the same age, so I thought it’d be a good idea for you both to get acquainted with one another.” Superman turns to Duke with an encouraging smile despite the blank face Duke is giving him. “ Can you show him around Mt. Justice before you two head up to the Watch tower?” The two teen heroes looked at each other, and Duke nodded first as he assessed the hero in front of him.
Superman gives them both pats on the shoulder before heading off to the zeta tube in preparation for the JLA meeting. The two stay there, silent for the longest moment as they keep their eyes locked on each other. Both of their faces remain impassive as they size the other up.
“Thought Gotham was supposed to be Anti-meta.”
“Thought Dakota was supposed to have treated you for the Big Bang.”
It's another few moments before Duke breaks first, huffing out a disbelieving laugh, “How the hell you get up here?”
Virgil rubs his hands across his face, groaning in annoyance. “Man, I don’t even know! A JL member just showed up and hijacked my show.” Duke snorts a laugh, attempting to cover it with a hand, but so far failing. “ Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Bat Signal.”
“Hey, that’s The Signal to you, young man.” Duke mocks as he goes to throw an arm around Virgil.”Bat Signal,” He mocks.
“ So,” Virgil can smell bullshit coming from Duke when they start walking, “How’s Sharon?”
Duke yelps at the strong shock to his side, cursing as he separates himself from Virgil, trying not to laugh. “ Damn! Why’s the voltage so high? I was being serious!”
“Quit flirting with my sister.” Duke makes a face, then pulls out his phone. “Can’t even check in on family no more. Harsh world out here. Aye, you need me to text your dad for you? You told him you’d be in Gotham this weekend, right?”
“Yeah, but I just told him a few minutes ago, so wait a minute before you go telling him stuff.” Virgil takes in the view of Mt. Justice, sighing forlornly. “ I bet the acoustics in here would be a vibe. You tried them?” Duke pauses his typing to look over at Virgil, thinking on the question. “Titans Tower has a music room. I think there've been concerts at the Hall of Justice.”
“Why-” “Dick and Dinah” “Oh.”
“I just want to know how you keep getting involved in these situations. Richie? How we get here?”
The boy in question played a menacing bass line as a response, making a face when he was done. Duke nodded, giving him a stink eye before looking over at Wallace, who had stayed turned away from the group as he tuned his guitar. “Hella quiet over there”
“Don’t start, man, I’m not the one accepting shady gigs in Gotham because he didn’t feel like verifying a location, Virgil!” Wallace snapped, making the singer turn around, looking offended. “Me? Duke’s the one that lives here; he should’ve known when I said the place.”
“Let it be known you didn’t tell me shit.” Virgil sucks his teeth, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. “Well, I have a better question for one: why do all of the Gotham villains have business ventures in the nightlife? No one thought to put a cap on that? No? Just me?”
“And I mean, the Iceberg Lounge isn’t a terrible place to perform. It fits your Wayne persona if you ask me. Besides, if anything really goes wrong, I can just kill the lights.”
Duke’s face has been the most expressive of the night with how frequently he’s let his displeasure be known to the group as a whole. Steph and Jason had laughed for hours when they’d learned about where the group had been going. They’d promised they’d show up to see the performance, and coincidentally, they’d be able to get intel on a case that Red Hood was looking into.
Speaking of, here came Duke’s personal target.
“BOYS! I hope you’re ready to stun the crowd with your performance. I have high hopes for you.” The man who got them roped into this in the first place walks in, cutting off any conversation that would have continued. Virgil grins, instrument in hand, as he responds. “ Francesco, my man, you know we perform to amaze.”
He jumps down from the stage, going for a handshake that the other smoothly takes. “ Now, quick thing,” he pulls him off to the side, lowering his voice so the others wouldn’t hear them, “You didn’t mention that this thing was going to be at the iceberg lounge.” He keeps the easy going smile on his face, but the blank look from Francesco tells him he’s not going to find any sympathy in the man. “ That going to be a problem for you boys?”
Virgil pats his back over exaggeratedly as he leans away from the other man, “Problem? Nah, no. Who said anything about a problem? I’m cool with this. I’m only concerned. You see, cause you know, there’s a Wayne in our group, and I know how infamous that family is just from being around him. I can’t imagine what it’s like just living in the city.”
This gets the man to glance back tensely, and he seems to be rethinking plans that he might’ve had for the group.
Virgil places a hand on the man’s exposed arm, and he jerks back in shock when he feels the jolt of electricity shoot through him. He frowns in concern, “ Oh my bad, did I put a shock to your system? You good?” The man shakes it off, giving him a weird look as he walks off. “ Just don’t screw this up. We want a show.”
When Virgil returns to the stage, Wallace is shaking his head, “ You just couldn’t resist.”
“What? We’re here to amaze and astonish, nothing wrong with a little shock to set the mood.”
Turns out the people love them (as Virgil predicted), meaning the penguin loves them. After their performance is over, the DJ takes over and plays lively background noise as the Magnolia Shadows head up to the VIP Lounge to meet the owner. Wallace and Richie seem to be the only two with an ounce of self-preservation as they freak out next to one another in silence.
Duke, on the other hand, has his comm link open to the Oracle channel to record in case they get some relevant information from the older man. Virgil thinks he’s probably flown them too close to the sun, but hopefully, everyone being a hero helps them make it out of this situation with all limbs attached. (?)
The step into the dim room, each of them making their own assessments for traps, Cobblepot grins at them in his best impression of welcoming. The row of crooked teeth doesn’t do much to help in that department.
“Well, well, Magnolia Shadows, quite the name for yourselves. Any of you from the south?”
They chuckle as Duke answers for them, “ Nah, we’re all from up here.” Pointing to Wallace, he goes, "He’s from New York,” then to Richie and Virgil, “then these two are from Dakota City.”
Cobblepot nods, then looks at Duke, “ Wayne’s kid, huh? How many of ‘em does he have by now?” Duke shakes his head with a shrug. “Couldn’t tell ya, he emotionally adopts too many people for me to keep up with.” The man laughs, holding up a glass. “ You boys make yourselves comfortable, we’ll talk about having you back later this week.”
None of them was 21, which clearly didn’t matter to the older man.
Viva la Vida.
“Hey, Duke, have you seen Damian? He was supposed to-” Tim points to the hunched over figure of Damian on Duke’s Tablet while Virgil is holding a razor behind him. “What’s he doing?”
Duke looks up from his writing pad with a raised eyebrow, all while trying not to look smug. “Damian’s watching a show,” he states, adding with a twinkle of delight in his eyes, “ he loves Wild Kratts.”
The look on Tim’s face is priceless, and even as he sputters in his disbelief, Damian ignores both of them while he remains captivated by the show. “I was going to put him onto Zoboomafoo, but you know baby steps.”
“ What are you doing to his hair, though?” Virgil looks at Tim and easily maneuvers Damian’s head to show off his work. “ He said he wanted a design on his fade.”
“Did Alfred or Bruce sign off on this?” The two of them shrugged, both uncaring. “Dames asked us, whatever the kid asks for, we are happy to comply.”
Tim doesn’t mention last week when Damian had been yelling at Duke for not doing something, and Duke had looked unapologetic, not caring in the slightest. But Damian’s content, so he decides he’s not going to question further and goes to leave.
—
“Hawkins, your work is appreciated. Thank you for not being incompetent with a razor like Someone.”
“Another word, and you’re going back to Alfred doing your hair.”