It was snowing. Horribly, in such a manner that everything was white—from the trash on the ground to the grungy roofs, all was coated in horribly unique ice crystals. It was especially terrible when it flurried in through holes in the theater roof, where a certain auburn-haired girl dwelled, alone. She had about a nickel to her name and naught but a cane to aid her in her fight against the criminals of Gotham's Narrows. Well, a cane, and a clever mind.
But that's not important just yet.
What was important was that now, as she attempted to patch up a series of scratches on her forearm, a noise got her attention.
Oh god, not more Arkham freaks coming to take me away.
She tugged her sleeve down and stormed from backstage onto the decrepit cedar-wood stage, flailing her cane around and glaring at the tall, lanky man in a suit who stood calmly before her.
"I do NOT have a mental disorder!" Erin shrieked. "I'm simply too clever to have any problems of the mind, sir. I am perfectly sane..." A pause as she calmed herself, now mumbling—a riddle, presumably—as she plunked herself into a chair, clutching tightly at a cane.
It wasn't a walking cane, no—but a steel one, decorated with translucent, shimmery white paint, and what looked to be amethyst gems, or something similar, all put into an odd, square question mark shape. She stared quietly at the man opposite her, ceasing her muttering and all movement. Almost as if she was frozen.
The young man had piercing grey eyes that instilled fear in her core. The kind of fear that you don't notice until you really think about it—the kind that sends chills down your spine for what you hope is no reason as you're walking alone at night.
"Right, this one's perfectly sane. She definitely has it all together." The man drawled sarcastically, taking a swig from his hip flask. "She's as sane as I am warm and cuddly."
Erin rolled her eyes at his comment.
"I'm perfectly sound in the mind." She seemed to pout just a bit as she adjusted the sleeve of her green sweater. "You look familiar. Have I met you at some point in the past?"
"Our dads used to work together. Pop told me you live around here. Figured I might pay a visit." The man, clearly not leaving any time soon, made himself at home, sitting on a decrepit stool and leaning against the wall.
"I never knew my dad." Erin said offhandedly, twirling her cane in a bored fashion and slouching in her chair.
"He's pretty famous. I mean clearly you know who he is, judging by your wardrobe," he absently pointed at a question mark on her green waistcoat. "Either that, or you have an uncanny luck I've never even heard of."
She paused and looked at him in a peculiar way. "...I know who the Riddler is, and I stole his theme. Because I do it better...speaking of, would you like to hear a riddle?"
The man rolled his eyes and motioned in a "go ahead" expression, taking another swig from his flask as he did so.
She removed the green bowler hat and held it with both hands in front of her, bottom-up. "Every colour, every shape, I only bloom at night. I'm present when you celebrate, always far but within sight. What am I?"
"Fireworks," He said almost immediately.
Suddenly, the mentioned explosives (much smaller than average, of course) in colors of purple and green and gold erupted from the hat. When she was sure he wasn't looking, Erin smiled a childish smile as she watched the miniature fireworks go off.
"I saw that..." He whispered absently, mesmerized by this display of magic. "Ah, so that's your trick. Do you want to see mine?"
"I suppose I do, yes." Erin's fireworks ceased and she placed the hat back upon her head, sitting back down in her chair and waiting.
"Hold tight, this'll take you places!" The man grinned wickedly.
His irises began to glow yellow and smoke rose from the floor, slowly shifting into the forms of several beasts. Giant spiders, wolves, and snakes. The smoky shape of a crow, its visage rotting and horrid, perched on Erin's shoulder. Erin stared with wide eyes at the horrific images now surrounding her. Her pupils dilated and her pulse quickened, and once again, she froze. Then she gripped her cane like a baseball bat and, lightly, bonked him on the head with it.
"Stop!" She gasped, clearly afraid, if her crackling voice was any indicator.
"Alright, alright," he chuckled, amused, "Here. You might want this."
He offered Erin his flask, and she eyed it—and him—suspiciously.
"What's in it?"
After all, some guy comes in and says nothing but 'our dads used to work together' and then offers you a flask of who-knows-what. Taking it doesn't seem very smart.
"Medicine," The man said with a wink, "Strongest whiskey there is. Stuff like that'll get you buzzed in a couple seconds. Problem is, my metabolism's so fast, that's all it lasts for me is a few seconds; it's why I'm always sipping on it."
"Hm." Erin grunted.
She recalled him sipping from the flask a few minutes prior to then, and reasoned that if he was okay, she would be, too. And she needed it. So she accepted the offer, and took a fairly large swig for a fairly small person. She coughed a bit as the alcohol burned her throat, but handled it better than the man would've figured.
"You okay there, little one?" The man's tone held the faintest hints of condescension.
"I'm fine," the auburn-haired girl snapped, handing the flask back to him, "and I'm not a little one."
The man rose to his full height—a rather impressive 6'11", or 7'1" whilst wearing boots—which he was at the moment.
"Oh, really?" He grinned in a sarcastic manner.
Erin glowered up at him.
"Well, if you wanna be that way..." Involuntarily, she puffed up to her meager 5'10".
She compared their full heights and decided that she was probably part hobbit. The man just leaned back in his seat, smug in his little victory (pun likely intended).
Several moments of silence passed, Erin growing more and more irritated with every second of deafening noiselessness, as well as every aspect of the man's presence
"So what are you here for, huh?" She remained tense and standing, and narrowed her vivid, green eyes at the man. "To prove you're a giant?"
"I'm here because," the man said calmly, "I need a partner."
Erin's eyes narrowed further, to the point where they were mere slits, practically glowing in the dim light. She backed away a step, and grabbed her cane, clutching it until her knuckles were white against the steel rod.
"What kind of partner are you referring to?" Intense suspicion laced her tone.
Several moments later, realization dawned on the young man, and his grey eyes widened.
"No, no, not that kind! Come on, I have more decency than that...!" He defended himself, regretting his previous choice of words. "I need a business partner—someone to help me end the injustice in this city."
The girl's grip on her cane relaxed.
"...Injustice, huh?" Mild intrigue shone in her eyes and her tone. "Minor or major?"
"All of it. End it all."
"With just two people?" She sat down on the floor, preferring the cold wood to a chair, and staring up at the man. "Against the whole underworld..."
"Well, to begin with. We will have allies eventually, I'm sure...but everything starts with one person, and then two, and then three. An army doesn't amass overnight...someone has to start it."
Erin paused to think for a moment. Her face held an expression that seemed to portray her thoughts of declining the offer.
"Hm. Well, let's see..." She frowned and attempted to imitate the smooth voice of the man, "'Hello, I'm a monstrously tall guy who instills fear in the core of your being. Have some whiskey. Look, I'm taller than you—cool. Let's take down all of the crime. All of it.'" Another pause as she fixed her tone. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"That is such a cliché," The man laughed. "Why do people always ask that?"
Erin frowned further.
"Because, to be frank, you look like the kind of guy who's normal and calm at first, but if—or rather, when—provoked, would skin somebody alive..." She paused again. "And do I really look like someone who could defend herself against a crazy guy with a knife?"
"Scythe, actually," The man mumbled, nearly inaudible.
Erin sighed.
"Whatever. My point is, you're scary and you seem vaguely unstable—y'know, considering you want to destroy all crime and whatnot."
"Well, maybe not all of it...we'll start with the worst. See, order can't exist without chaos, and why should it?" He chuckled darkly, "Controlled chaos is fun..."
Erin pursed her lips a bit. "You've got a point...perhaps I'll help for a bit."
The man's small smile spread into a wide, eerie grin.
"Then it's settled..."
Wary, Erin smiled uneasily back.
Suddenly, a crash sounded from outside. Erin took on the appearance and stance of a deer in headlights, jumping to her feet. She stared at the man
"We've, uh, gotta go..." She spoke quietly; a flashlight shone on the wall, its light growing as footsteps approached.
The man took on the tone of Casey Kasem's 'Shaggy' voice, and said, "Like, let's split, Scoobs!"
Erin barked a quick laugh before grabbing the man's hand and running backstage, toward the fire exit. But instead of going through it, she let go and dove into a nearby open vent. She got stuck for a moment about halfway through, but wriggled on and managed her way into the old air shaft.
"Come on, Raggy." Her voice echoed back to the man, holding a teasing tone.
He manages to get his limbs into the vent, and the rest was just a matter of wriggling the right things at the right times.
After several long, enclosed and generally uncomfortable minutes, the two found themselves underground. Which was an odd place for a vent to lead, but hey, they escaped.
There was enough space for Erin to comfortably stand, but the tall fellow still had to hunch over a fair ways.
Erin removed her hat and pulled a flashlight from it, chuckling a bit as she clicked the pale green light on.
"What've we here?" Asked the man, mainly to himself.
Erin shined the light here and there, round the space. It seemed to be an abandoned escape tunnel, lined with old, cracked stone.
"Onward." Said she, wandering off in the opposite direction from where they'd come from.
"Perhaps it leads to Mordor," said the fellow.
Erin tensed a bit. Another hobbit joke...
"Perhaps..." A pause, and a smirk. "But one does not simply walk into Mordor."
"We didn't walk, we crawled." He remarked.
"Fair point," she sighed. "You know, I don't recall learning your name."
"Nathaniel. Nathaniel Crane." He extended a now-dirtied, gloved hand.
Erin smirked again and shook his hand.
"Nice to meet you, Crane. I'm Erin Nigma."
"Hm. E. Nigma..." Nathaniel chuckled.
"Indeed." Erin sighed irritably.
Not like I've heard that fifty times. Totally original, mate.
Then, something caught the flashlight's glow.
"Look here, we've found Mordor..." she mumbled.
"What is it?" Nathaniel inquired.
The redhead stepped over to the rusted object sticking out of the ceiling and attempted to jump and reach it. Alas, her height kept her from achieving her goal...so she used her cane.
What she'd discovered was a very old, likely unsafe ladder, that could lead practically anywhere
"Let's find out, shall we?"
"That looks unsafe." Nathaniel stated blankly.
Erin just laughed and began to ascend with extreme caution.
Carefully, carefully, up a rung or two, gentle grip on the sides..
"Easy, Erin!"
She slipped.
Not far—just a rung or two—but still...
"I appreciate your concern, Crane, I do. But it's a bad idea to speak to someone when they're climbing dangerous structures!" Her voice escalated, and the ladder trembled, so she clammed up and kept climbing.
"Okay. I'll just wait, I guess..." Nathaniel sighed slightly.
A minute or two of careful climbing later, Erin finally reached the trap door of an exit. Trying to shove it open almost caused the ladder to collapse, but in a puff of dust and a rain of loose dirt and wet snow, the door flung open and Erin peered out. All was silent, and dark, save for the light of the bright, full moon, reflecting on the ice crystals that blanketed the ground.
"C'mon, Crane, we're fine here!" She called, her voice echoing slightly through the tunnel.
"Alright, fine...!"
Nathaniel began his ascension, terrified that he could plummet back down at any second.
Erin peered down at him from her place above-ground. She was tense, just waiting to see if he'd slip... There she perched, just in case.
Nathaniel reached the top, and collapsed on the cold ground beside Erin, resting his cramped muscles for a moment before looking up.
Erin stood and took a step back, looking around. As said before, all was dark and quiet. Most of the old Gotham buildings seemed to be abandoned, but it was hard to tell, considering the lateness of the hour and the thick layer of snow.
"Looks more like Dol Guldur to me, not Mordor..." She mumbled.
"I know that name, but it's not ringing any bells." Nathaniel mused.
"Abandoned fortress in the Hobbit trilogy. Where the Necromancer calls home, I think..." Erin trailed off and began to liesurely wander again.
"Oh. I didn't know it had a name."
Clearly somebody didn't pay attention...
"Well, now you've been properly informed." Erin said simply, shooting a quick smile at Nathaniel before returning to her exploration.
"This place is very interesting, I'll give you that...it's a small city."
Golly, I hadn't noticed!
"It's good for hiding. Out of the way...quiet...no one could hear screaming from here..." Erin pondered, peering through a broken window.
"A good place to house an army." Nathaniel added.
"Yep." Erin nodded and entered a building.
It seemed to be an old inn, with cobblestone walls and wooden support beams. It appeared quite stable, and almost...clean.
"Hm. A good place for a barracks, I think..." Nathaniel seemed to be the sort of person who talked to himself often.
Erin continued to look around and explore things. Then she pulled a pocket watch from her waistcoat and glanced at the time: four o'clock in the morning.
"Should be gone by now..." She mumbled, the rest of her musings incoherent due to the quietness of her voice and tone; then she yawned.
"What was that?" Nathaniel asked.
"The police," she sighed, returning to the brunette's side, "the reason we absconded from my original hideout. They should be gone by now."
"What did you do to have them chasing you, anyway?" Nathaniel inquired from his place behind the front desk—which had clearly already been designated as his territory.
Erin's face became faintly pink.
"Other than trespassing...?"
"That's barely a crime," Nathaniel commented.
"I never said that was the only thing I did." She muttered, avoiding eye contact.
And then she wandered off again.
"Well that's ominous," Nathaniel chuckled.
Erin grumbled to herself and became redder in the face.
"You'll have to tell me at some point, you know..." Nathaniel had the slightest of singsong tones as his voice drifted to where Erin was exploring.
"Yeah, probably," retorted the girl as she returned to the lobby, "Just not now."
She opened an old umbrella, and a knife fell out of it.
"Well, then..." She stared down at the blade, which was now solidly lodged in the hard oak floor, about an inch from her foot.
To himself, Nathaniel smirked.
"Have it your way..."
Erin eyed Nathaniel suspiciously, wary of his facial expression, and casually absconded to a different room.
"Will you stop absconding?" Nathaniel called, mock-irritated.
"It's my job!" She called back.
"Says who?!"
"Me, the law, my old partner, take your pick! Most everyone has me on the run..." her voice went down a few decibels, then.
"Well, then." Nathaniel slightly mocked Erin's earlier words.
"Yep." She reappeared, carrying an armchair with her and setting it in front of Nathaniel's desk. "How 'bout you? Why're you so hellbent on getting rid of all the crime?"
"It makes sense," Nathaniel responded in a defensive manner that seemed rather elusive and suspicious to Erin, "I just...like the idea, that's all."
"...Hm."
Not buying it, bro.
But she didn't interrogate him further.
"So then, do you accept my offer completely?"
"I s'pose," she shrugged and twirled her cane.
"Fantastic!" Nathaniel sort of chirped, pulling a lengthy scroll from his pocket. "Now, I'll need your signature here," he pointed, "here...here, here...and initial there."
Erin began to read through the scroll rather quickly.
"Seems you've been thinking about this for quite some time, eh?" As she spoke, she removed her hat and pulled out a green pen, hesitating as she read on.
Not responsible for death, mutilation, incineration, incarceration...quite a list. What are you responsible for?
"It's all basic stuff, you know..." he quirked an eyebrow at her attentiveness to detail.
"Hm." She grunted again, but ended up signing anyway.
He promptly rolled up the scroll. "And we're ready to go."
Vaguely, Erin smiled.
"Where exactly do we begin, Crane?"
Nathaniel thought for a few moments before replying.
"We begin by introducing ourselves to the city." He decided.
"Hm. And how do you propose we do that? 'Hello, citizens of Gotham City! We're going to be the next big bad vigilantes. You may have known our respective fathers. We're nothing like them at all, of course, other than our prominent physical similarities, and minor mental disorders!'"
"No, nothing that public." Nathaniel waved his hand dismissively, "there's going to be a robbery at the Second Bank of Gotham tomorrow night. We're going to stop it, in front of dozens of civilian witnesses...in and out, without the police catching us."
The scene ran through Erin's head, like an elegant play on a Broadway stage, and a wide grin spread across her freckled face.
"I like it..."
Nathaniel placed a hand on her head. "Good. Now, be ready and sleep, little one."
"I'm not little!" Erin protested indignantly, standing and wandering off to one of the many empty old bedrooms in the building.
"You should sleep, too, Crane. Can't have you dead on your feet on our first grand display of vigilantism," she chuckled, peering back out after a minute, hatless.
Her hair was short and crimson-auburn and tousled, cut in several layers, her fringe hanging barely over her right eye. She had a teasing look in her eyes.
"Yeah," Nathaniel stood and walked toward another room nearby, "probably best that I do..."
Erin shut her door and removed her waistcoat and boots, as well as the sheets from the bed long forgotten. After a few good shakes, most of the dust was removed from the bedding, and she turned the bed into more of a...well, a nest. Blankets and pillows formed a wall around her, save for one of each object, which she used in the proper way.
She drifted off into semiconsciousness, remaining in that state; very light sleep, half-waking every half hour or so.
Nathaniel slept as he always did—in short bursts. He measured his night's sleep in seconds, not hours, like most people. He was doubly weary this night, and had to stifle his screams so as to not wake Erin. He didn't want her to know about his condition—didn't want to worry her.
Not like it was any of her concern, anyway...
As fate would have it, however, one small gasp sounded whilst Erin was half-conscious.
Was Crane in trouble...? Well, considering they were partners in crime—er, vigilantism—now, she figured she should at least check. So she got up, grabbed her cane, and snuck toward his room.
Oh no, Nathaniel mentally groaned as he heard her faint footsteps approaching his room.
"Crane...?" Due to her current state, Erin's voice was quiet; even moreso because of the door muffled her speech.
She turned the old brass handle and peered in, cautious.
"I'm up," Nathaniel said hoarsely.
"That's obvious," Erin remarked.
After a quick analyzation of the scene, she realized the problem: nightmares.
"Momma!"
"What is it, sweetie?"
"I had...I had a d-dream, that the Scarecrow c-came and, and took me aw-way from you..." A six-year-old Erin bit back her sobs as her mother sat on the edge of the green bedsheets.
"Oh, dear..." Sighed the woman, pulling the small child into her arms and holding her.
Erin let loose her tears, sobbing and sniffling profusely for quite a long time. No words were spoken between the pair, and none were needed.
"What are you doing?" Nathaniel's voice cracked and returned Erin to the present.
She was mildly surprised when she discovered herself wrapping a tensed-up Nathaniel in a hug. It took her a few seconds to register what was happening, and when she did, she replied rather bluntly.
"Comforting you," she mumbled into his shirt, hugging him tighter.
"Why?" The question hung in the air, simple but so complex.
She didn't respond.
Why am I?
Nathaniel simply sat there, lost for once in his life. Unsure...but not displeased.
Several silent moments passed, and Erin remained there, hugging the scarecrow of a man in a tight, comforting way.
"I'm okay..."
That was the biggest lie Nathaniel told—the one he used every day. To himself, to others...
"That's unlikely," Erin replied bluntly, letting him go and looking directly into his grey eyes.
"Listen here Cr—...Nathaniel..." She, for the first time, used his first name. "I'll bet you're one of those people who act like everything's alright, but are torn to shreds on the inside..."
Me too.
"Therefore, asking if you're okay would be stupid. I'm going to assume you're not, and I'm probably right. I'm also going to assume that this is a fairly regular thing with you..." She sighed, raising a single eyebrow at Nathaniel. "Well, looks like it's gonna be a regular thing for me, too. Papping you back to sleep or whatever." She rolled her eyes and stood up.
She walked back toward the door. But when she reached it, she stopped, and turned, and...
She smiled. And what a smile it was. It made her eyes twinkle in a weird way...as if they were dancing in the faint moonlight, streaming in through a half boarded-up window. Right then, she looked older—more mature. Almost sad.
"Good night, Crane." Her voice, once again, was soft.
She stepped over the threshold and stood there for a moment, leaving the door slightly ajar.
"Good night, Erin," Nathaniel whispered after her, nearly inaudible.
Erin smiled again, just faintly, as she closed the door with a soft click and retreated to her room once again. She curled up in her unusual bed-nest and fell back to sleep fairly quickly, hoping Nathaniel could do the same.
Nathaniel, however, stayed awake for quite some time, replaying the last few minutes in his mind, over and over, perplexed by them. Eventually, he fell asleep with—for the first time in quite a long time—a real smile on his face.
AUTHOR'S NOTE
HELLO FRIENDS CAN YOU FORGIVE ME FOR BEING DEAD FOREVER I'M SO SORRY ;A;
I've been so busy with...work... yes work that's the appropriate phrase [lol no I've been watching too much television and reading too many webcomics]
BASICALLY, I'm a lazy jerk who is really sorry for not uploading anything at all for ages. ;-;
Anyway, what you just read is a Batman roleplay/fanfiction thing that my friend and I did. Well, he and I roleplayed-but I edited it all up into a right proper story.
If we ever stop procrastinating, chapter two will happen...
And whether or not I upload it depends on what you all think of this story. .-. So, of course, leave a review letting me know. I'd like advice, if you'd all be so kind, but all reviews are welcome. :3DISCLAIMER: MY FRIEND AND I DON'T OWN BATMAN, THE BATMAN UNIVERSE, OR ANY REFERENCES MADE TO ANY OTHER TRADEMARKED OR COPYRIGHTED MATERIAL, etc. etc.
Egh. Okay, that's out of the way...so, again, I'll say sorry, and thank you. ;w;