Dear Kami, I am SO sorry everyone! …. Damn how long has it been! I am so foolish, forgive me. What bugs me, is that I can't even promise a quick update! I have been very busy, but I won't get into the details because that lacks importance to the story.
(Sigh) Someone should seriously slap me.
Anyway, I can't really decide if this is more of a chapter, or a prologue. So I flipped a coin, which is what I always do to decipher important decisions. And so it's prologue. And since the prologue is extremely short, I'm going to upload the first chapter tomorrow.
Hm…but just to tell you, I haven't been sitting on my arse doing nothing. Nope, I've been writing stories for Inuyasha. (If you want to check them out, my user name is DiverseThinker. WARNING, I only write coupling that's NOT Canon. You know, couples that don't belong together. Kinda like Raven and Robin. So far I have only written a Bankotsu/Sango and an Inuyasha/Sango. Don't go there just to flame, or you'll be a hypocrite for reading Raven/Robin, which is also an AP.)
I have also been improving my writing. I hope you can see the difference in this prologue and first chappie. Hopefully.
Anyway, please enjoy. Read and review, because I live off them.
The apple rotated in the air swiftly before returning to the thrower's hand; gravity was something no one could undo.
Throwing it into the air one more time, Raven looked up at it; as if time had stopped and the apple continued to twirl on. Raven caught it, keeping the crimson apple in her hold as she continued to walk languidly.
Gotham, New York was an interesting place. Very social. Very Noisy. Very unnatural, synthetically processed almost. The air was spoiled and almost disgusting to breathe, while the lack of space between the sea of busy people was unnerving. The cars and rolling machines around the streets were just an added annoyance to both sight and sound. Being Raven, she naturally hated the place.
"Purses! All kinds of purses—You ma'am!" A local came rushing to her, an ad in her frail fingers. "Would you like a Gucci handbag? It would go wonderfully with your skin!"
Raven continued to walk, "No thank you…" She said shaking her head politely.
Still being able to hear the poor woman ask many people, Raven sighed. This was New York.
Of course; she was different than all these people surrounding her. Raven threw the scarlet apple up once more. These people weren't holding in power of another planet, nor were they the next big league criminal coming to Gotham.
Catching the apple, Raven looked around. People were bustling around, trying to get to where ever they needed to, not caring if they pushed in the process. Raven had been pushed to the side more than needed in the past hour. It was quite annoying.
Her eyes shifted to the man infront of her. Young. Intelligible. Tall, dark, and handsome on some point. Lowering her gaze, Raven recognized his hand out of the crowd of people as it slowly reached into the woman's purse infront of him.
The woman was busy talking on her cellular, briskly trying to make way for herself and her child, clutching to her hand for dear life. It was obvious the child was scared of being in large crowds where the child could barely even recognize it's own mother. Of course, the mother was too busy talking about the upcoming fashion show with her friend on the phone. Not only was she oblivious to that, but to the man digging in her purse from behind.
That was her fault. Her purse was wide open, and her wallet wasn't even clipped correctly. The theft came out successful. Raven watched him pocket the money, not even a slight difference in his expression. No smirking or wide smiles; emotionless. There was obviously a story behind his stealing. Not enough money to pay rent? Not enough to pay for mother's illness? Have children in a studio apartment? Alone?
Raven wasn't a crime stopper anymore; it wasn't her job to stop these bandits. And no matter how much her hand itched to grab the man's hand before it entered the woman's purse, it wasn't her job. Nor was it her right to stop him. But deep down, Raven knew, if the steal had been unjust in anyway…. For example; if the woman was talking urgently about her frightened son, or if she was holding him in her arms, or even if she was merely walking alone with her purse rightfully put, then Raven would have stopped him. But she deserved it.
Turning a corner, Raven sighed in relief. The huge crowd continued to cross the street, making the walk for Raven much less breathable.
But back to her, Raven had already been in New York for half a year. She yet had acted on large. So far, all she had were cops coming after her. No league of superheroes. No Nightwing. Of course, that was probably because she hadn't stolen anything big. Useless clothes that she had given away the next day, as well as mere carets of gold. She didn't need them. She didn't need any of them.
Raven walked by another newsstand. The same headlines had been roving over the news for a long while now. She had been following the slow progress by just word of mouth. It was sad really.
Nightwing, the apprentice of the legendary Batman, had been knocked unconscious by the ever so sly Joker. Stupidly walking into battle, which Nightwing attended alone, he had not only lost consciousness and blood. But he had also lost pieces of his memory from his teenhood. The days she shared with him under the tower's roof were lost to him. But not forever.
Raven was determined to help him remember. Everything.
Looking down at the apple, Raven saw it was no longer a perfect crimson. Small dots of bruised red were scattered on the apple. She sighed again.
Being a thief didn't mean she was rich. Most of the money she pawned from things she stole went to making copies of her uniform, few more weapons, Zinothium, and even rent for her beautiful apartment. She needed an apartment with perfect view of Time Square, but it costed her.
Infact that small bruised red apple was the last of her food for the week. It was Thursday. Raven clutched it tight in her hands, refraining from the mere entertainment of throwing it in the air.
Once Raven had crossed the street on her trek back to her apartment, Raven heard the low calls of an elderly woman. Turning to the side, Raven saw the elderly woman smiling at the people passing her, her permanent seat being a wheelchair.
She held a rain devoured old scrawny box. The plain text or what was noticeable from the damage the weather had down to it, said 'Donations to the Gomez family.' Beside her were three young children.
They were dirty, greasy and all around poor looking. Their clothes in shreds and their skin were muddied. Their naturally born shiny brown hair was how in a tangled mess, as they too held boxes, calling out to the people passing.
Exhaling a deep breath, Raven trudged over to them at the same time one of the young boys walked to her, box held high.
There were no words exchanged as Raven looked down at the boy. Almost immediately, she wanted to laugh outloud. The dirt on his face was obviously make-up, done for the dramatic cause. She summed up that this family was stingy. Probably still poor, but not homeless. It was funny how people tried to fool their own kind for own personal gain. People now a days got to where they were by having dreams and goal, and working hard to reach them. People who were unsuccessful, were set where they are because of their own fault in life. It was their wrong that set them here.
How can they ask people of their own kind to give them donations because they lacked the altitude of getting up and doing something fo themselves?
Laziness should not get a reward. Hard work is earned by sweat and sacrifice.
Though the young children's poor faces showed sadness, Raven saw the deceit in their eyes. Deceit, arrogance, and sin.
But even so.
Raven dropped her apple in the box, walking away.
She ignored the calls of gratitude the elderly woman yelled after her. Ignored the blessings from God.
Everyone deserves a second chance. She hoped she would get one too.
It was turning dark quickly; soon Nightwing would begin his shift.
Said hero was sitting atop a colossal building, merely dangling his legs over the edge. Height never scared him.
Or did it?
Nightwing sighed, rubbing his temple. After he was told, though the many tests, that he had lost part of his memory, he tried hard to remember things he knew he wouldn't. He knew it was a lost cause.
He heard the static of his new communicator. "Whats up, Gar?"
"You ready for your shift?" He asked amusedly.
"Yes...why?" Garfield usually never asked if he was ready.
Garfield Logan had been introduced to Nightwing for the second time in his life after the accident. It hurt Garfield to hear the news about his friend, but what could he do? No longer would they be able to reminisce about old rimes.
Nightwing heard Garfield sigh. Garfield had usually called Nightwing before his shift, jokingly getting him riled up. He had stopped after Nightwing's incident, knowing he wouldn't remember, and no longer think it funny. Garfield always called before his shift and asked if he ready. Always.
"Nothing. But I did hear you were to look out for some new amature theif. You should look around the new Jewelry store. I heard she likes jewelry." Garfield laughed over the intercom.
"She?" Nightwing grinned.
Please Review you kind, kind, people!
By the way, what does WAFF and TBC mean?
-Monica
