| “ | There are two things to remember when you're begging for your life: one is to try and entertain the person holding the gun to your head and the other is to give that person... Mmm. A convincing reason why they shouldn't kill you.
— Balalaika holding a gun to Rock's head
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” |
Sofiya "Balalaika" Pavlovna is the boss of the mafia organizations known as Hotel Moscow. She was brought up by her grandfather, the high-ranking military head of the USSR. Balalaika's father has presumably either been condemned by the USSR or fled the country.
Before joining the mafia, Balalaika was a captain in the Soviet Army, Vozdushno-Desantnye Vojska' paratrooper and a veteran of the Soviet war in Afghanistan. A fine marksman and sniper in her time, she received the nickname "Balalaika", one of the Red Army's slang terms for the Dragunov sniper rifle.
Balalaika can be easily identified by the burn marks which scar most of the right side of her face, neck, breasts and leg which she sustained in Afghanistan, earning her the nickname "Fry-Face". She is usually shown smoking a cigar, in contrast with the other characters who smoke cigarettes. In view of her participation in the Soviet war in Afghanistan and the missed possibility to take part in the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles, it is possible to define her age between 35 and 40 years old.
In April of 1986, while on an international illegal operation outside of Soviet territory, Balalaika and her unit saved a child who was in a refugee camp. The media recorded the event that led to the "Voluntary Discharge" of Balalaika and her unit; promptly deserting the Soviets forces.
Balalaika arrived in Roanupur in 1993, which lead to a large-scale conflict with the already-established triads under Mister Chang, which ended when the mercenary known as Dutch managed to negotiate a peace treaty between the two organizations. Having established herself, Balalaika chose Hotel Moscow as her headquarter, and continued to reign over the crime industry of Roanupur alongside Chang's triads.
Battle vs. Joker (Nolanverse) (by Battlefan237)[]
Balalaika : 
Joker :
Gotham Harbor
As the ferry approached the Gotham Harbor, Balalaika gazed out of the window, staring at the city's spectacular skyline. Though impressed by the sheer number of skyscrapers, she found it hard to appreciate the view as she recalled the city's notorious past: Scarecrow, Two-face, Zsasz, Ra's Al Ghul......Each of these names and their marauding acts had made the city infamous all over the globe. Even the shithole of Roanupur seemed kind of nice when compared to this town.
"So what's the deal ?" She turned to her right-hand man Boris who'd been sitting in silence for a while, watching him unfolded a piece of document.
"Our source have found out the hiding turf of that clown. The headquarter expects us to settle the job down before GCPD intervenes." Said Boris.
"We'll settle it quick. But tell the soldiers not to underestimate our target. Remember it was this clown that single handedly took apart our branch here." Added Balalaika,"We mustn't lose anyone."
......
The Joker's garage
"It's high time we robbed another bank !" Shouted the Joker, as he reeled off a long string of maniacal laughter. With his thugs scattered around the building, busy reloading getting ready their weapons and counting the money they had previously "earned" , the clown prince of crime could foresee that his new public prank will certainly keep everyone in the police department on edge and once again mess up the caped crusader's agenda.
Suddenly, the garage door rose up and in came three soldiers armed with AK-47 and Mac-10. Almost immediately they started spraying around the hall, ruining the Joker's perfect plan. Hardly had the two thugs in the center of the hall picked up their firearms before they got slaughtered in the midst of bullet rain.
"Oops, troubles." Said the clown as he ducked behind a metal chunk and signaled the thugs upstairs to shoot the intruders from above and steadied his M1, hastily firing back with his Glock.
Two M76 sub machine guns poked out of the platform above, spraying down a Russian with Mac-10. Shocked and angered, another Russian stood up and raised his AK to fire at the platform, only go expose himself and get a shot in his chest from the Joker's carefully-aimed M1 Garand.Losing all of the teammates, the last soldier retreated out of the garage, as she quickly darted out, the Joker noticed her long hair and realized the soldier was a woman, probably in her 40s or early 50s.
With another glance at the gears of the dead soldiers, the Joker found them decently armed compared to the mobs around. Feeling odd, the Joker still ordered his men to pursue. As soon as the first thug rushed out of the garage, machine gun bullet rained down from the ex-Soviet military jeep parked right next to the door, turning the thug into a literal mess of blood and flesh.
The Joker and his thug immediately darted back."Big bomb ready, boy !" Shouted the Joker, towards the thug on the roof with Type-69. As the Joker climbed up the platform to join with the thug and enjoy the upcoming show of fireworks, the noise from the backdoor section drew his attention.
Back when the Joker and most of his men were dealing with the sudden intruders, Boris and one Russian soldier broke into the garage from a window hidden at the corner and took down a thug nearby . As they searched around the corridor, the Joker burst out from a paper advertisement board with logo of Wayne enterprise printed on one side and shot the Russian soldier in the back with the last round of his Glock, while another clown-masked thug jumped down from the platform, S&W in hand. Boris immediately responded by shooting the thug in the chest with his Stechkin before he could steady himself from the jump. Then he turned to the Joker, only to find him next to the light switch.
The room darkened for a few seconds after the Clown pulled the switch. As Boris blindly shot around the corridor, a huge pain was injected on his arm, causing him to drop the pistol. The light went on once again, revealing the Joker holding a metal tube, with night-vision device on his face. The clown jumped toward him in attempt to launch another smash, but Boris drew out his NR-40 and stabbed him on the arm, disarming the Joker. The clown dodged back clumsily, only to receive a kick in the chest and an elbow on the heart. Boris went on to punch the clown in the face, completely messing up the Joker's fancy makeup and sending him to the ground. "Ouch, that hurts." Said the Joker as he coughed out dirt and blood, but still retaining his signature grim. "Shut up." With another kick to the jaws delivered, Boris caught the Joker by the neck, pinning him on the ground and using his knees to restrict the clown's arms. All actions accomplished in high efficiency, inherited from USSR's harsh training.
"Time to die,clown." Said Boris, as he rose his knife in his usual emotionless expression, readying for a final stab.
"Nope, nope, not yet. I gotta show you something, something really interesting ." Said the clown,"Bombs out !"
A huge explosion followed the clown's words, as the rooftop thug fired his Type-69 after getting the clown's signal. Balalaika and the other Russian soldier sitting on the backseat noticed the thug raising his weapon before launching, allowing them to dodge out of the car immediately. The Russian on the machine gun, however, wasn't that lucky. Although he also discarded the car in time, he failed to keep a discrete distance with the exploding car before his back being penetrated by a fragment of the jeep.
With the whole building quivered by the explosion ,Boris paused his knife and looked back the the window that had been torn into pieces by the shock wave, worrying about the safety of hies captain and other team mates. Due to distraction, Boris's leg let loose of the clown for a second, allowing him to quickly reach for his pocket and dig out a dagger, slashing Boris in the leg. "Arrrrrr!" Boris roared in pain as he turned back in haste, trying to stab back, only to receive another stab on the arm.
The Joker lifted himself up and banged Boris's head with his, sending Boris into dizziness. Then he poked his dagger into Boris's exposed neck, which was a fatal strike, causing blood to come seeping out of the large crack on Boris's neck. The clown laughed maniacally as he watched Boris dropping his knife on the floor and collapsed. With an additional punch, the Joker managed to get up and kicked Boris aside. "BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHAH !" Went the Joker, as he rejoiced over the agony of the ex-Spetsnaz militant on the floor.
Boris, with his mind fading out, managed to coughed out a last word :"капитан (Captain)......"
"Who knows what that means, ha !" Joked the clown, as he bend down and began carving Glasgow Smile on Boris's face.
Meanwhile, the rooftop thug, obviously pleased by the power of his Type-69, poked his head out to check the result.Before he could focus on the remnants of the jeep, something fast and sharp pierced his forehead, ending his criminal career.
When the Joker finished his grotesque job and went up to the roof, he noticed the thug's dead body with the discharged Type-69 displayed nearby by peeping through the half-open door.Knowing that someone must have landed on or climbed up the roof, the clown quickly darted back and headed to the backdoor in an attempt to escape.On his way to the exit, he didn't forget to pick up a pistol left on the floor to defend himself.
Seconds later the clowned reached the spot where his thugs had parked the school bus. When he was about to make his dash toward the bus door, something shocking caught his attention---The masked bus driver's lifeless corpse was leaning over the steering wheel, with the front glass riddled with bullet holes. Knowing that he had been surrounded by enemies all the way, the clown prince sighed and took cover behind the bus and prepared himself for upcoming foes.
As predicted, Balalaika and a Russian hitman emerged from the alley nearby, each of them AK in hand. "I've just spotted him, how come...?" Said the hitman,cautiously pointing his AK-47 around, in search of the Joker. Suddenly something tumbled out from the back of the bus, the Russian immediately opened fire, only to find out he'd been shooting at a tin of pencils. "What's the hell ?" Thought the man, as he paused for a second, which gave the Joker the chance to jumped down from the bumper and shoot at the two attackers from the bottom of the bus.
The clown shot out all the rounds at high speed and high accuracy compared to his normal standard, shooting the leading Russian five times and sliced Balalaika by the shoulder, causing her to discard her rifle and swiftly dodge back. Taking this as an opportunity, the clown advanced towards Balalaika and picked up her rifle. As he reached the spot and found Balalaika unarmed, the Joker chuckled.
"Wow, your face is even more messed up than my friend Harvey's." Said the clown, as he lifted the rifle,"It's time for me to put a smile on it."
Balalaika simply stared back at the clown, not even making an attempt to back off or fight back, with lights of boredom gleamed within her pupils.
The exact moment the clown's hand reached the trigger part, a bullet came from the sky behind, blowing up half of his head.
Almost instantly the clown prince of crime crumbled down,tossing the rifle aside, eventually forming a kneeling posture with his knees placed on the ground and his head crashed open. Liquid consisted of blood, make-ups, and brain matter filled with the clown's sick ideas flowed out and covering the concrete ground around.This time, the Joker was finally unable to laugh.
Balalaika lit up a cigar as she signaled the sniper on the top of the building behind to get down and began to organize a plan to leave this city as fast as possible.
Winner: Balalaika
Expert's Opinions[]
While both warriors are smart in their own ways, it was Balalaika and her subordinates' superior training, experience as well as better firearms ensured their victory. On the other hand, the Joker hired low-level thugs, used inferior firearms and his limited experience let him underestimate his enemies as normal mobs, hence preventing him from realizing the fact that the rooftop attacks were jobs done by military-grade snipers rather than thugs climbing up the roof, causing the clown's final demise.
To see the original battle, weapons, and votes, click here.
Battle vs. Penguin (by Battlefan237)[]
Iceberg Lounge, Gotham City
Sitting on the chair, with his hands tied to its back, is Drury Walker, a small-time Gotham crook that has always been dreaming about joining the big league. To achieve such goal, he has been committing small heists and hit-and-runs under the alias of Killer Moth, hoping that one day he'll gain the attention of the big names and get a chance to work under their wings. Now, his dream has come true, but in the worst way possible.
"So what you little pathetic Lepidoptera is trying to say is, that you have sold the map of MY TURF to the Russians ?"
Drury trembles as the obese man in front of him throws out yet another question that he dares not to answer. "M, m, Mr. Cobblepot, let me explain it you, you, you see, he......he...I.,...I was a little bit drunk at that time when he, he called on me and offered me that case of money. You, you know, when, when people are drunk, they, they can't think properly, they make stupid mistakes. I thought that man works for you so I...."
"Why on earth would I order someone working for me to purchase a map of my own turf ?" Shouts the Penguin.
"I, I'm not sure Mr.Cobblepot, guess I was just too stupid...." Before Moth could finish his words, the mob boss, obviously fed up with Drury's stutters, raises his umbrella and pulls the trigger, blowing up the poor man's head for his own good.
"Now clean up this sack of shite, will you ?" Orders the Penguin, as he marches out of the torture room, with his bodyguards following him. "How did the map make it to his hands ?" Asks Lark, the bird's right-hand woman. "Not sure, note it down for me, will ya ? Now that the Russians have already got it, dealing with them is my priority. Get Sionis on the line, war is around the corner."
However. before Lark can reach the telephone, loud siren signaling an upcoming invasion starts ringing fiercely, drawing the attention of Cobblepot and every henchman in the room to the big screen on which security cameras carried by the trained penguin are sending back footages showing several groups of heavily-armed men approaching the casino from various directions.
"Cacophony in Cobblepot's property." Says the Penguin, as he orders his subordinates to notify his crew stationed at various spots around his turf to ambush.
Utilizing their factor of surprise, Iceberg Lounge's staff are able to take down several of the Hotel Moscow soldiers, before they shudder to realize that this group of new assailants in front of them are far from anything they've ever experienced.Not only do they fire with higher accuracy than your typical Gotham city thugs working under the deranged minds like Dent or Joker, but also they kill with a higher efficiency than those tortuous cultists under Sionis's wing. Not to mention the rage burning in their eyes as they slowly push back the Iceberg Lounge crew's assault. The rage that were born in the barren land of Siberia, born from a fallen superpower which has also once been the cradle of several other deadly players of Gotham city.
It doesn't take long for Balalaika's men to suppress their foes.The motley crew of muggers and junkies hired to safeguard the border of Cobblepot's turf stand virtually no chance against this company of former Red Army warheads, as they scurry off their posts, leaving piles of bodies behind and literally running for their lives.
Watching all these unfold on the big screen in his office, the Penguin sighs. Never has he placed any form of high expectation on those hired guns, but he doesn't expect their failure to be so immediate and disastrous like this. For a moment the idea of contacting the Bat springs up in his brain, however, the dark secret hidden in his storage soon prevents him from putting this insane plan into action. "Lark, gather your squad and set the helicopters ready. Ogilvy, head to the lab and bring out my own version of the clown's favorite toy." After giving order to two of his most trusted goons, Penguin waddles down the stairs and goes straight to his secret lair. The feeling that this war will end up forcing himself into action is getting stronger, and what would be the point for the Penguin to engage in a direct brawl were he not to be packed with his umbrellas.
Arming himself with two extra umbrellas, the Penguin leaves the room after taking a final glance at the security case in which the damned book has been resting peacefully. "When this trouble is settled, Nygma ought to be summoned here to help me solve the mystery lurking behind its sentences. Asset worthy of exploiting lies behind them, or else that pathetic husk of a wizard wouldn't have been so obsessed with it."
"Based on our source, the room on the east side of the ground floor is the bird man's preferred hideout." The soft voice of his boss comes through the military radio, as Boris and his men march through Cobblepot's dump yard, leaving a trial of dead bodies behind.
So far they haven't encountered any notable obstacles, with every patch of their enemies being low-level thugs and junkies barely capable of aiming properly. Some of them have already grown bored, underwhelmed by the low quality troop the kingpin of Gotham City possessed.However, Boris has not yet let off his guard. In the past few years,criminals of Gotham origin that happened to pass by Roanapur has provided him a few hints on the nature of this charming but deadly city of loons, and many of those criminals have told him that nothing in Gotham is a hundred percent sane, behind every seemingly normal site, a twisted phantom might be lurking.
Several minutes later they arrive at the east wing of the Casino, in front of which a small square reserved for future parking lots lies. With no one in sight, Boris ordered his men to forward. However, as they approach the entrance, the door opens by itself. A waddling thing with the size of a child shakily walks out of the door, instantly drawing the attention of everyone. Despite the sudden nature of this incident, the Hotel Moscow crew remain cool. Their conflict with the Romanian twins has taught them two simple facts : Never underestimate your opponent because of his/her age, and if there is one child, a possibility of a second one hiding in the environment, readying to ambush you is always high.
An even more shocking scene hits the Russian gangsters, as neon light unveils the shaking figure. What has been getting onto their nerves isn't even a human ! It is a frigging penguin !
"What's the hell ? Is that old fatso into bird sex or something like that ?" Izhakoff shouts in surprise, stirring up a little bit of uneasy laughter among the nervous crew.
"What can a f**king bird do ?" Mutters Alyokhin, as he draws out his Stechkin and opens fire. Hit by the bullet, the bird squeezes out a painful "wah" before collapsing on the ground, revealing a small package attached to its back.
"What's inside this bag ?" Asks Alyokhin as he goes up to inspect the bird, followed by Izhakoff and another soldier. It is already too late when Boris realizes the danger behind it and makes a vain attempt to call them back, as the familiar beeping sound of a time bomb counting down starts up.
Instantly ducking behind whatever they are able to find,Boris and the last two of his company avoid the blast. However, the poor souls that clustered around the dead bird are all gone, leaving three torn-up carcasses scattered around the entrance.
Almost instantly, more penguins come darting out of the door. This time, Boris and his men spare no hesitation pummeling them down with their AK-47s. With all the birds taken down and explosion over, the three men continue their expedition. Little do they know that the explosive penguins are only a small fraction of the horror this city has to offer.
As they travel through the dark hallway, making their way to the targeted room, they are met with no oppositions. "This doesn't feel right,"Says Putin, the youngest of the trio,"It is too quiet, almost eerie."
"Keep your nerves on, enemies might come at us from any directions." Responds Boris, as he points his rifle to the right side, while the other Russian soldier makes sure no one can flank them from the left.Almost a minute has passed when they reach a small intersection. It is at this moment that the other Russian soldier suddenly begins to chuckle wildly.
"What's so funny ?" Asks Putin, as he pats his partner on the shoulder. The man turns to Putin, revealing a pair of bleary eyes and a wide grin. "What's so funny ?Heh, heh, heh,EEE HEE HEE HA HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA,HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA ? Funny ? HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA ? How to you say it ? Say that again ? Everything is funny, a big, big joke ! What is a tybalt ? What is a joke ? Dancing penguins and flying question marks...GOD HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH !" Putin backs off, as he watches the man tumbles backwards, losing his grip of sanity. Before Putin can figure out, Boris violently pulls him back, placing a gas mask in his arms.
As Putin swiftly puts on his mask, he catches notice of the gas can that has been sneakily emitting Cobblepot's downgraded version of the boldest creation of Gotham's best criminal mastermind hanging on the wall on the left. Their partner, who hasn't been sharp enough to notice the can, now succumbs to the dastard effect of the infamous laughing gas and slams dead on the floor.
Meanwhile, at various spots across the Lounge, most of the Hotel Moscow crew that have made their way into the casino are submerged in the dark seas insanity. Having inhaled the gas that either comes from the hanging cans or pops out of the ventilation system, they laugh and prance in the surreal joy of psychopathy. shooting each other with their assault rifles as their psyches deform and break down. Soon the laughter dies down, leaving piles of Glasgow smile-engraved dead bodies around the building.
However, as one might expect, some of the smarter ones, like Boris, are able to put on gas masks in time and continue their blind crusade.
Word by word hearing her soldiers' descend into madness, the term "painful and pissed" is concise to describe Balalaika's mood.
The rumors surrounding this village of mad is true, she supposes, as she watches the Iceberg Lounge through her telescope. It's high time she went into action.
Oswald Cobblepot is on his way to the helipad when he bumps into the duo of Boris and Putin.
"Surprise, isn't it ?" Utters Penguin, as he flexibly dodges back and opens his umbrella just in time to block several incoming bullets from the duo's AK-47s. Out of instinct the birdman retaliates by pulling the trigger on the umbrella's handle.
Barely avoiding the dum-dum launched from the umbrella's head, hardly has Boris regains his posture when a second one is fired, turning Putin into a human do-nut.
Aiming for Boris, Penguin once again readies his favorite toy to fire, only to find that it has already run out of ammo. "Shouldn't have wasted a round on that costume freak." Sighs the Penguin, as Boris takes the chance charging forward, delivering a kick to the fat man's jaws.
"Waaaaaaaah !" Groaning in pain, the mobster staggers back, instinctively covering his unusual nose with his hands as he tosses the umbrella aside and pulls out another one from his tuxedo. With no time to check the umbrella's function or to take a proper aim, he hastily pulls the trigger and relishes at the sight of flames coming out of its tip.
Excruciating pain soon overwhelms Boris, as he watches the flame tearing through his supposedly fire-proof and bullet-proof vest in sheer terror. It doesn't take long for the flames to engulf the Russian man completely, literally roasting him alive. "Let lecture you a little bit more about the essence of my weapon. It is a beautiful artifact designed to burn through the Bat's suit. A masterpiece resulted from the combined efforts of my top scientists and old friend Garfield Lynns."
"You'll never triumph. Us, the Hotel Moscow, has exterminated countless self-acclaimed criminal genius like you. Wait and see, you and your casino shall burn in hell."
"Oh really ? So, let me impart a simple truth for you to digest the rather imposing nature of Iceberg Lounge. No matter how many killers and tough guys you've brought with you. me, Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot, has lived through worse.I have survived the conflicts between the clown and the Riddler, I have torn the Roman's organization to pieces and feed Falcone to Pygs, I have put Dent, Sionis and that piscatorial banker out of business, I have ruled this town of madness as their mayor, I have thrived when there's nothing to thrive, and thus I see impossibility for you and the people behind you to overthrow my regime." Shouts Cobblepot,as he watches the man on the floor painfully deforms into ashes.
"Enough is enough." Not even taking a single glance back, he heads straight to the helicopter.
"Boss, are you coming ? Lark has already taken off." Asks Ogilvy. Just as the bird man is about to board the assault helicopter, he pauses.
"No, not this one. I'd like something different."
Seeing his boss off, Ignatius Ogilvy paces back inside. A random glimpse at Boris roasted corpse, the man turns right. "The Penguin has always been hiding something inside that secret chamber. Something he never allows others to see. Something mysterious and something he implied to be a book of some sort........With him in the sky, wouldn't it be a perfect chance for me to page it ?"
However, his secret agenda is quickly ruined, as Balalaika's RPG rounds burst into the right wing of the corridor, blowing up the section where he is standing, sending the body parts of Cobblepot's right-hand man flying around.
"Damn, it missed the targeted room by almost an inch." The RPG soldier complains, as Balalaika calms him down.
"I , the Sultan of Mayonnaise, the God of Hollandaise, and the Emperor of Mustard, the Condiment King ! Will be the star of tonight's grand heist of Iceberg Lounge !"
"Keep quiet or you'll attract the guys on the jeep over there. Wait for my SIGNALS, then we shall make our move. And don't forget, our buddy Moth is being kept in the east wing."
"Philip wait, I'm clueless right now, I don't really think those men are from Penguin's gang...."
"OI ! You insolent mortals, I am the unbeatable Zeus, your guns don't intimidate me at all !"
"SHUT THE F**K UP MAXIE YOU F**KING MORON YOU'RE !"
The four idiotic villains should feel honorable about their demise, considering the fact that they have managed to finally become a part of the big league, through dying in the same way as many of the bird's remaining ground troops that are perishing under the machine gun fires coming from the jeeps.
Lark is not in the best of her moods.
For months, she has been fascinated by the idea of taking a ride on her boss's beloved helicopters, firing at enemies trying to take her boss's throne.
Now that her dream has come true, but she isn't grasping the correct sense. She has managed to blown up a jeep, however, the drivers managed to jump off before the explosion and escape into the cargo section. The scattered running targets are incredibly hard for her to hit, and in the process of finally taking down the running gangster, two of her own allies were accidentally shot dead.
"Damn this is such a waste of time and resources, when this is over I'm going to report this to boss and maybe then we can change these clumsy flying castles into practical jeeps like them." Lark almost starts daydreaming about her boss praising her intelligence and rewarding her with fat slacks when a bullet tears through the front class and pierces her chest.
"What's the flying....? " She mumbles, before biting her dust.The last thing she saw was Balalaika holding her Dragunov on her jeep far away below.
"Damn captain you would've been an Olympic champion if it hadn't been Afgh..." The RPG soldier's praise is interrupted by his boss's fierce stare, and he pauses smartly, knowing that one word further he will be pressing on Balalaika's scar.
In the distance, Lark's helicopter crashes onto the body of a cargo ship, creating a temporary firework show, spicing up the already-heated atmosphere of Gotham harbor.
"Time to retreat." Balalaika orders as the surviving members of the casino exploration rush out of the building, reporting no signs of the Penguin.
"We found Boris's burned body near the targeted room, which was empty and look more like a storage than an office. None of his squad members were nearby."
"We'll retrieve their bodies later," Commands Balalaika, as she takes notice of the helicopter with Gotham TV painted on its door looming towards their spot."The reporters have already arrived, and soon will the police."
"Wait captain what is that helicopter trying to ---- ?"
Hardly has the soldier finished his sentence when one Gatling gun pokes out of the door, reeling off an incessant series of bullets, tearing through the crowds of dumbfounded Hotel Moscow militants.
The RPG soldier, who isn't fast enough to duck, gets riddled with holes in sheer seconds. The rains of bullets hurl him over Balalaika, creating a temporary human shield.
"DIE ! YOU PESTS ! THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO WHOEVER DARES TO MESS AROUND ON THE PROPERTY OF OSWALD COBBLEPOT ! " Shouts the Penguin, as sweat runs down his hook-shaped nose and twisted face. The shaking muscle presses his monocle upward, forming a caricature of an obese man, a penguin and a gorilla. Continuing pressing the firing button on the control desk, he is too intoxicated in his victory as he watches the remaining men of Balalaika collapsing down on the ground below to notice Balalaika slowly reaching for the RPG soldier's signature weapon.
Seconds later, when Balalaika's movements are too obvious to be overlooked, she has already held the RPG in hands and taken aim. Just as she thinks this bloodbath might be over, the Penguin jumps out of the helicopter the moment she launches out the final rocket.
As the parachute opens up behind Cobblepot's back, Balalaika immediately disposes the useless rocket launcher and attempts to reach out for the rifle on the ground, only to have Penguin firing at the rifle mid-air with his reloaded umbrella gun, blowing it into pieces.
The exact second the Penguin thinks he has this victory in bags and fires the second round, Balalaika hops out of her jeep, barely dodging a direct blow to her seat. The last round soon follows through, only to narrowly miss the target due to Cobblepot's shaky aiming. Seizing Cobblepot's landing as an opportunity to convert defeat into victory, Balalaika charges forward and knees the cunning criminal in the groin before he can steady his umbrella.
Yelling in pain the Penguin struggles to regain his balance as a second punch to the face sends him falling backwards. Hurriedly pressing his umbrella open he blocks a stomp from the Russian fury and stabs her in the thigh with the spring knife attached to its head.
Stunned by the severe pain and tipped by the umbrella Balalaika backed off a few steps to the right of the Penguinbefore balancing her self and drawing out her pistol,shooting the bird man's arm,forcing the umbrella off his hand. However on the point of making another shot she notices that the Penguin has also drawn out the rarely-used M1911 kept inside his pocket with his intact arm.
At this close of a range and in not-so-perfect physical condition, neither of the mobsters can make up his/her mind to shoot. However, the siren which signifies the arrival of James Gordon finally pushes both of them to give up and drop their guns on the ground.
Winner: Tied
2 days later
"Name ?"
"Putin House."
"Reasons for visit ?"
"The inmate is a personal friend of mine. "
...
"Damn that cop was an easy one to fool." ELGB thinks to himself as he approaches the Penguin's cell, a white envelope in hands.
"Ah finally you've come..... Wait.... You aren't my lawyer ? Do I know you ? Who the hell are you ?"
"You don't remember me ? I'm the man you blew up with your shotgun back at the lounge, right before turning the other man into a Peking duck."
"Wha.... What ? Why are you still alive ?"
"Mr. Cobblepot, after all these years in Gotham, please don't tell me you're still freaking out when seeing someone coming back from dead. The Joker did it twice, Red Hood did it once, and the Bat has done it for countless times. And I assure you that I'm not here to harm you, just to give you this."
"What's inside this....Wait, isn't it the book.....?"
"You're right Mr. Cobblepot. And I do admire the fact that, being a mortal, you have managed to smell the possible profits lying behind this seemingly innocent book. As you might have learned Doctor Dee stole the book from a realm far away, and the Justice League is now busy searching it. Originally I was the one assigned by them to destroy the book in subtle ways that wouldn't draw the attention of the Justice League, therefore I manipulated you and the woman you met into fighting each other, covering up the demolition of the book with an ordinary gang war. However, now that the war has gone out of my control, I ultimately decide to keep the book and pave way for..well, a more subtle story with it."
"And in what part of this story will I be fitting in ? What profits will I derive from it ?"
"Well, easy and simple, Mr. Cobblepot. As you might have realized, the book contains gospels, gospels of your world and many worlds beyond. And your task is to spread this gospel, spread them to Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Prison, spread them to every insane mind of Gotham city, from the beautiful insanity of Joker and Riddler to the lesser-maniacs such as Sionis and Blackfire, and to those insane jokes, Polka-Dot Man, Captain Stingaree, etc... By doing so you'll be having money, loads of money flooding into your account...."
"Then that's a deal. " Smiles the Penguin, as he opens the envelope, revealing its title:
Seven Pillars of Wisdom
Expert's opinion[]
In terms of troop quality and training, Balalaika stands out. However, Penguin's experience of fighting against Batman and outsmarting various supervillains in Gotham and DCU, as well as his more versatile arsenal, manage to make it up for him and result in a tie.