Here's the Talon!Dick story I promised. It's set two years before the show, which means Dick's eleven. I'll explain some confusing things at the end. Also, I'm a broke kid and my only Court of Owls info source is Wikipedia, so if someone could lend me something, that would be great.
Disclaimer: I don't own YJ or Batman!
A boy dressed in gleaming black and silver armor with a bird-like cowl, holding a jagged dagger, was sprinting across the rooftops of Gotham. He had a goal to complete, a mission.
He was careful to avoid the Bat's usual routes and steered clear of any noise. He jumped into a house, cutting out the glass on the window and his footsteps silent. He tiptoed through the house until he saw his victim, lying in a bed. Easy prey, he thought, before a twinge of guilt resurfaced. It always did. No alarms blared as he slit the throat of a man whose name he did not know, did not remember. The blood trailed down his victim's neck.
He ran back to the Court in long, fast bounds. Anyone who may have felt a rush of wind turned back to see nothing, shrugged, and assumed it was just a gust.
But it wasn't. The boy knew that better than anyone. As he tumbled through Gotham's rough streets, the hostile night air seemed to mock him. As much as he loved seeing the outside, he'd finished his job and had to head back to the Court as soon as possible. His Masters were counting on it.
Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all of time.
The familiar and haunting rhyme replayed in his head.
Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.
He hated it. He hated the very idea of it. What happened to freedom?
They watch at your hearth; they watch you at your bed.
Which was, generally, true. The Court had whispered around him, not thinking he'd understand, about some people who weren't abiding by the Court's Gotham. He pretended not to notice when the names popped up again at night - when he was told his orders, who to assassinate.
Speak not a whispered word of them…
He fought the urge to choke.
...or they'll send the Talon for your head.
Blank masks; blank faces. Droning on his orders, then 'putting him to sleep' in the freezing, biting, stinging cryopod. The Court of Owls.
Talon wasn't sure what he expected when he returned every night. Praise? Gentle touches? The occasional warm bed? None of which were given. Talon was simply summoned as soon as he walked inside the door, bowed, presented his knife to his Masters (because they couldn't have a rogue Talon, now could they?), and was ushered away to his cryopod.
Tonight, though? Tonight was strange. The head Talon - Cobb, Talon thought he heard the Court calling him? - usually took him to the pod chamber (as Talon dubbed it) but today, a dusty mahogany door was opened to reveal a… bedroom?
Talon inhaled sharply. The white bed had covers and blankets and pillows and it would be so comfy and warm… There was a bedside table. An aroma drifted off of it. Food? There was an IV in the cryopod that gave him nutrients. "The Court has an important task for you tomorrow," Head Talon explained. "The briefing is in the drawer."
Talon dare not touch it yet, running and flopping onto the bed as soon as the door was closed. He'd never felt anything this comfortable since… since…
He sighed in exasperation. He couldn't remember anything about his past, not since he walked out of the room that fateful day. He didn't try to find out, either. Whatever he did, it was bad enough that he had the amnesia ever since. He remembered crackles and wires from the room, but that was it.
The Court never taught him how to speak again. Talon supposed it was for the best. After all, the Court was filled with his caretakers, they had to know what was best for him.
The assassin was no fool. He knew that the Court was sending him to enact death sentences. It never sat right in his stomach, but what would he do otherwise? He was a monster, he was a freak of nature. He had regenerative capabilities, enhanced senses, strength, speed, you name it. He'd even heard once that Talons were immortal. He never took off his uniform, but he bet the form underneath was grotesque. He couldn't even talk.
He knew. He was a tool. He would be discarded, like the Talons before him, only to be used again in a time of crisis. When Talon was younger (younger, how old was he? How many days had it been? At the very least, a year, he thought), he'd panicked at the thought of being thrown away, of not being of use, and just wasting air. He calmed since then. It wouldn't be for a while now. He was still young.
The Court's Talon closed his eyes. It was time for a long, overdue rest.
Whew, prologue! That was difficult. I've never done one of those. Plus, (gah) so much exposition. So lil' Dickie's lost his memories, from being tortured into obedience, thinks he's worthless as a person and can't speak. (By the way, if you were confused about that, I realized early into planning that Dick would just pick up the words like an infant, so I gave him apraxia of speech/motor speech disorder. Essentially, his brain has errors in sounding out what he wants to say. He could know he wants to say Talon, for instance, and it wouldn't register in the parts of the brain that are connected to speech. Best yet (...or not), it can be caused by brain damage, so it's a possibility. If I make any mistakes in how I portray him, please point them out)
ANYWAYS, this idea started as a YJ!Villain AU, so there's one other character that's going to be a villain (ish? Catwoman like?) in this story: Wally. With the Rogues, as you can expect.
Next up: the (dun dun dun) special mission. I'll try to update around every other week.
Please read and review, with constructive feedback.
P.S. Someone do me a favor and recommend good YJ/Batman fics? I'm running out of things to binge read.