Gotham was always a murky place, a backend corner of New York. Certainly not a holiday destination. But then again, Devon Babineaux never really followed the norm. So, when she decided she needed a vacation, she picked Gotham.
Now you need to understand that a vacation for Devon is killing whoever she wants instead of who she's hired to kill.
Devon, for her petite stature and chaotic ways was dubbed 'Sprite', but to her friends (if she had any left) she was nicknamed Dove.
Devon skipped through the streets of Gotham, humming sweetly to herself. You see, Dove is what you would call a little, but unlike many littles she doesn't hide it from the world. When she feels the urge to be in little space she is in little space. No matter what. And as she skipped through the backstreets of Gotham, coated in blood, that is exactly the mindframe she was in. Now, along with being a little, it is important to note that Devon Babineaux was a straight up brat. Don't get me wrong, she could be the sweetest little thing ever, but she was also the most stubborn.
Stubbornness is the reason she refused to change out of her cropped tops and shorts since leaving California, even though New York was way colder. Even now she wore a light pink t-shirt tucked into blue denim shorts. The t-shirt had a faded picture of dumbo and blood splatters on it. She wore light galaxy (with a pink basis) Converse, with pink laces.
"You're covered in blood." A female voice stopped her mid skip. She turned to face the figure.
The woman had pale blonde hair, pink cheeks and red lips. She was wrapped up in a large hoodie that clearly was not hers and tight jeans that beautifully accentuated her figure. Fluffy socks and sneakers were trying to save her feet from the bitter, biting, cold breeze. Devon knew who she was. She wasn't stupid, she'd done her research- not that any research needed to be done to know who Trine Alani was.
"Yep!" Dove chirped back cheerfully. She grinned at Trine, "I'm Devon, wanna be my friend?"
Trine studied her for a moment. After some time of silence, she shrugged, "Okay. I'm Trine."
Devon rolled her eyes playfully, "Well, everyone knows that, silly!" Devon froze when the gun was pressed to her temple. Finally, Harley had been lurking for too long.
"What's ya name?" Harley demanded.
"D'you wanna know my full name, my nickname, or what the boring people dubbed me?" Devon hummed happily.
Harley raised an eyebrow, "All of 'em."
"Devon Elliott Babineaux- my parents wanted a boy. I would wave but you'd probably shoot me. My friends called me Dove. And the boring people dubbed me Sprite! Like the drink." Devon checked off in a happy voice.
Harley's gun didn't lower, "I heard o' ya. You're a hitman." Harley's tone was dangerous.
"I'm on vacation." Devon shrugged cheerily. Harley studied her closely before she lowered her gun. Harley kew that she'd have pulled out a weapon by now if she wanted to.
Harley wrapped her arms around her wife's waist. She studied the new woman carefully, taking note of her expressions and body language. The girl was petite, shorter than Trine was. Barely over five foot. The hair was cropped close to her scalp, and made her features look even more fairy like. Her eyes were a dark brown, her hair was black. She was beautiful.
Whilst Harley studied Devon, Devon studied Harley. The Clown Queen of Gotham. A legend in her own right. Her hair was currently red with black stripes here and there. She wore ridiculously high heels that Devon would never be able to sit in, let alone walk. She must have incredible balance, Devon noted thoughtfully.
"You're a little." Trine burst through the other two women's thoughts excitedly. She'd never met another little before but she was certain that that was what Dove was. She wasn't completely sure why she was certain, all Trine knew was that she was positive that she was right.
"Really? Never would've guessed." Devon teased good naturedly. Giving Trine a playful smile.
Harley snorted, relaxing a bit, "You're a brat." She tutted the petite woman. Clicking her tongue at her.
Devon grinned at her and winked, "Where's the fun in being good?" Harley cackled as Trine giggled happily.
Harley looked over the little through the corner of her eye. She tutted silently. She didn't enjoy the conclusions she came to. She knew she'd be needing to have a chat with Mr J about the new little ones the scene. Brats had to be dealt with a certain way to get things done quickly, easily and without a tantrum.
"All that blood looks good on you. Really brings out your eyes." She teased, in her usual purring predatory voice. " But ya look mighty cold." Devon looked down at her outfit and shrugged. "How's about you come to the club with us and we get you dressed up into something warm?" Harley almost swore, the minute she saw the change in Devon. The only thing that held her back from cussing up a storm was that it wouldn't do to be swearing in front of two littles.
Before, Harley's eyes Devon's muscles coiled and tensed. Devon's face hardened as she studied the little and her mama. She knew Harley meant no harm, just had natural caregiver instincts, but Dove had rules- and that would break two of them.
"Know what? I'm good." She gave an excellent fake grin to Harley before turning to face Trine, "If you wanna hang with another little for a bit, come find me. I'll be around for a while."
"How do I find you?" Trine asked confusedly.
"Your partners run this whole place," Devon shrugged, "Can't be too hard." With no further words nor explanations Sprite fled into the shadows. Before long she was causing trouble and death elsewhere. Devon grinned wickedly. She was definitely going to like it here.
