replace this fear inside, take this nothingness from me
Who: bodyreads, a bounty hunter, and limitedrun.
When: January 1st into January 2nd.
Where: The rooftops of sector 5.
Summary: Someone mistakes Black Bat for Batman.
Warnings: Descriptions of gore and possibly language.
She always took her job seriously. In the few years she had been Batgirl - and now Black Bat - she'd learned so many more reasons to do the job she set out to. There were people to save, crime to stop, and nothing would ever satisfy her until there was nothing left. Long before, on a night like this, Batman had asked asked her if it was enough that a few hundred people might be saved, that crime could be stopped in a small area. Her answer had been no. It had secured her place at his side, just as she reaffirmed it weeks later when she told him she was loyal to the symbol.
Siren's Port lacked the fear that Batman had instilled in Gotham. But they were making progress. They were always one step closer every day. That was worth it, wasn't it? Every step they could take to cleaning up crime would be worth it, even if they didn't live to see its progress. It'd never be quite enough but she would never stop.
It was one of those nights. She'd rescued two children out in the Darkness and had settled into using the monsters to practice her fighting. It would pass the time as she moved from sector to sector. She sliced down an Icarus Winged as she moved across one of the rooftops, heading for the ledge.
There was a gunshot and she felt pain in her left shoulder. The bullet neither slowed her nor deterred her, but she quickly turned as she moved to see who her shooter was. Several hundred feet away was a sniper; she could see the red of the scope. She moved to avoid any further shots and felt another stab of pain in her left side. She jumped onto the next rooftop, rushing at him. He wouldn't get another shot off at her. As she went, she realized she wouldn't get close enough, even if he wouldn't be able to shoot her again. To throw a batarang, too, would only succeed in disarming him...and leaving him open to be killed. She threw herself from the rooftop, grappling out to the next ledge and swinging herself out of sight and into the darkness.
Pain seared through her when she landed and she hurried to the closest abandoned apartment complex she knew of nearby. She slipped in without a sound (rather, with a blood trail close behind her) and made her way to one of the only working apartments to try and help herself.
Disappointment stabbed into her. This shouldn't have happened. No one saw her, though. That much she was grateful for.
When: January 1st into January 2nd.
Where: The rooftops of sector 5.
Summary: Someone mistakes Black Bat for Batman.
Warnings: Descriptions of gore and possibly language.
She always took her job seriously. In the few years she had been Batgirl - and now Black Bat - she'd learned so many more reasons to do the job she set out to. There were people to save, crime to stop, and nothing would ever satisfy her until there was nothing left. Long before, on a night like this, Batman had asked asked her if it was enough that a few hundred people might be saved, that crime could be stopped in a small area. Her answer had been no. It had secured her place at his side, just as she reaffirmed it weeks later when she told him she was loyal to the symbol.
Siren's Port lacked the fear that Batman had instilled in Gotham. But they were making progress. They were always one step closer every day. That was worth it, wasn't it? Every step they could take to cleaning up crime would be worth it, even if they didn't live to see its progress. It'd never be quite enough but she would never stop.
It was one of those nights. She'd rescued two children out in the Darkness and had settled into using the monsters to practice her fighting. It would pass the time as she moved from sector to sector. She sliced down an Icarus Winged as she moved across one of the rooftops, heading for the ledge.
There was a gunshot and she felt pain in her left shoulder. The bullet neither slowed her nor deterred her, but she quickly turned as she moved to see who her shooter was. Several hundred feet away was a sniper; she could see the red of the scope. She moved to avoid any further shots and felt another stab of pain in her left side. She jumped onto the next rooftop, rushing at him. He wouldn't get another shot off at her. As she went, she realized she wouldn't get close enough, even if he wouldn't be able to shoot her again. To throw a batarang, too, would only succeed in disarming him...and leaving him open to be killed. She threw herself from the rooftop, grappling out to the next ledge and swinging herself out of sight and into the darkness.
Pain seared through her when she landed and she hurried to the closest abandoned apartment complex she knew of nearby. She slipped in without a sound (rather, with a blood trail close behind her) and made her way to one of the only working apartments to try and help herself.
Disappointment stabbed into her. This shouldn't have happened. No one saw her, though. That much she was grateful for.