Title: First Knight
Author: ElleKnowsNot
Fandom: The Dark Knight Rises
Pairing: None
Rating: T, for violence maybe?
Summary: Blake trades in the badge for a mask. Recalling his first night on the job.
Author's note: Just a one-shot for now while I start my Inception fic. Blame the videogame Arkham City for the backdrop…guh, damn you muse!
Author's note#2: For all those that would like a sneak peek of what's to come for Blake in my new 'Winged Creature' 'verse.
Author's note#3: Oh, and blame Batman: Under the Red Hood for giving me the "cut the line while in mid-air" idea. Go Jason Todd!
Author's note#4: Conroy's name is an ode to Kevin Conroy, the voice actor who played Bruce Wayne/Batman in most of the Batman animated adventures.
He stands atop a gargoyle on the left corner of a building in Crime Alley, what used to be the beautiful Park Row. He can remember walking through these streets as a child with his father, but that was before…
His hand moves to put on his mask, adjusting it to mold to his face. Studying the streets below, he ties a line around his ankle and lowers himself head first from the gargoyle.
From the shadows, he watches as two thugs are trying to breaking into Monarch Theatre. Two pathetic amateurs as it looks. The taller thug has a crowbar, proceeding to whack at the lock in hopes of it dismantling. The shorter, stubbier thug is presumed to be the lookout. He holds a large flashlight that shines near the lock from his position near the steps of the theatre, while he looks behind them to make sure no busybody happens by.
'They make it so easy for me,' he thinks to himself.
He cuts the line attached to his ankle and hops down to the street silently. He walks slowly behind the stubby goon, grabbing the flashlight and using it to apply pressure to his throat before he loses consciousness.
"Conroy! Keep the damn flashlight steady, you dope!" The taller thug shouts, not hearing Conroy's struggle.
The quiet vigilante picks up the discarded flashlight and shines it on the lock once again. He moves slowly towards the brute, making careful calculated steps in case he perhaps had a deadlier weapon in his possession.
He drops the flashlight loudly, causing the thug to jump and drop his crowbar. He picks up the flashlight, leaving the crowbar in its spot. "Conroy, the hell is wrong with-?" He begins and then gets a full view of the man in front of him. "You're not Conroy." The thug studies the man before him. Complete black suit, save for a blue set of wings emblazoned on his chest. He didn't wear a cape like the Batman, but a small yet menacing mask covered his eyes for the most part. His hair was a bit wild too, as if he thought maybe the hair gave him a bit of age and edge.
"No," the vigilante smiles before gesturing to Conroy's unconscious body with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder, "Sorry about him. Work hazards and all that, ya know."
"Is he dead?" the taller, yet now cowering thug, asks.
"Nah. But he is gonna have a hell of a headache come morning," the vigilante actually laughs, his eyes crinkling at the corners. But then, his face shifts and he lowers his body to pounce on the goon.
"I surrender! Don't hurt me!" the brute shouts, before he drops the flashlight and gets down on his knees with his hands in the air.
"Definitely too easy," he says before turning for a moment and bringing his foot down across the thug's face in a backwards roundhouse kick.
The thug sputters out blood and a couple teeth, before steadying himself to speak. "Who…who are…you?"
Blake only says one word before punching the thug square between the eyes, "Nightwing."
FIN.
Note: I'm a Robin fan, really I am. But who would you rather bone? Cute little adorable Robin with the little green panties OR sexy, tall, and muscular Nightwing who has…experience? You be the judge.