Weakness Amongst Heroes
written by Acacia Dyre
Warnings: Series of SHORT vignettes. Various scenes to be posted separately as they are written. Meaning, as inspiration strikes.
Disclaimer: DC owns all characters, etc. I own a cat and a lot of books.
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There was something very satisfying in the feel of bones crunching under her fist. It was one of those few things that could keep the nightmares at bay for a few hours. Sometimes it was the only thing that made her desire to get up for the evening.
At first it had been about revenge. Her family called for her to avenge their murders and she learned the best she could how to do that. And then she did. But there was so much to do, it was never ending. Her family was satisfied with what she had done for them, and they would never have asked for her to dispense justice for others, but she felt others calling for a hero. There was need, even in the Batman's city of Gotham, for more people to do good and help the innocent. There were just so many criminals victimizing the place, feeding off the despair they caused; they were like leeches.
She continued her vigilante justice, without approval from anyone. She didn't ask for anything anymore, knowing that it would be denied. Huntress was aware of her place now, after No Man's Land, how could she not be. No matter that she got a small nod of approval for her actions after the fact, she had been used. She hated to be manipulated, and it was worse because she had been humiliated in front of others. She didn't expect that she would be allowed to keep the mantle of Batgirl, but the way in which it was taken from her still made her cheeks burn.
There were few illusions left in her life. No job, not a problem. No approval on the night gig wasn't a happy situation but it wasn't going to discourage her too much from continuing the work. No respect when she carried out the plans of others and behaved as they wanted, that was what hurt. That was what made her feel alone. Of course that led to the fist- in-face issue again. Helena knew she had some serious issues about releasing tension, but violence had been working so well for her thus far.
There was a particular perch in the city she liked to make her way toward on the difficult nights. It was just an ordinary building, no special carvings, but it was sheltered from the elements and had a nice view. She watched others swing past sometimes, and wished that she could meet up with them to talk. It would have been nice to be able to talk to someone about what the nightly experience was like. She used to be able to do that with Robin. He was a kid, but he understood. She had tried to do the same with Nightwing, but it got complicated and then it all fell apart again. As Huntress, she avoided Nightwing now. It was awkward and every time she saw him all she could remember was that humiliation again.
Batman knew that she was often at the perch. On the rare occasion he wanted to deliver a warning, or ask a question he would find her there. She watched him swing by on occasion also, knowing that he was probably aware of her gaze and ignoring it. She had wanted his acceptance so badly.
On this night no one had passed, and she had been sitting at her perch for far too long. She ached to be doing something, especially if it meant she could drop some crooks. Her fists and their blood, a non-lethal fight to defend the good citizens of Gotham. She straightened out her line and prepared herself mentally, taking a few seconds to compose her expression and calm her thoughts. He would know what she was up to this night, and even if he didn't approve, perhaps it would be one more night in which he did not disapprove.
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*I want to add a series of vignettes, as separate chapters, for Huntress. Hopefully they won't suck. +
written by Acacia Dyre
Warnings: Series of SHORT vignettes. Various scenes to be posted separately as they are written. Meaning, as inspiration strikes.
Disclaimer: DC owns all characters, etc. I own a cat and a lot of books.
+
There was something very satisfying in the feel of bones crunching under her fist. It was one of those few things that could keep the nightmares at bay for a few hours. Sometimes it was the only thing that made her desire to get up for the evening.
At first it had been about revenge. Her family called for her to avenge their murders and she learned the best she could how to do that. And then she did. But there was so much to do, it was never ending. Her family was satisfied with what she had done for them, and they would never have asked for her to dispense justice for others, but she felt others calling for a hero. There was need, even in the Batman's city of Gotham, for more people to do good and help the innocent. There were just so many criminals victimizing the place, feeding off the despair they caused; they were like leeches.
She continued her vigilante justice, without approval from anyone. She didn't ask for anything anymore, knowing that it would be denied. Huntress was aware of her place now, after No Man's Land, how could she not be. No matter that she got a small nod of approval for her actions after the fact, she had been used. She hated to be manipulated, and it was worse because she had been humiliated in front of others. She didn't expect that she would be allowed to keep the mantle of Batgirl, but the way in which it was taken from her still made her cheeks burn.
There were few illusions left in her life. No job, not a problem. No approval on the night gig wasn't a happy situation but it wasn't going to discourage her too much from continuing the work. No respect when she carried out the plans of others and behaved as they wanted, that was what hurt. That was what made her feel alone. Of course that led to the fist- in-face issue again. Helena knew she had some serious issues about releasing tension, but violence had been working so well for her thus far.
There was a particular perch in the city she liked to make her way toward on the difficult nights. It was just an ordinary building, no special carvings, but it was sheltered from the elements and had a nice view. She watched others swing past sometimes, and wished that she could meet up with them to talk. It would have been nice to be able to talk to someone about what the nightly experience was like. She used to be able to do that with Robin. He was a kid, but he understood. She had tried to do the same with Nightwing, but it got complicated and then it all fell apart again. As Huntress, she avoided Nightwing now. It was awkward and every time she saw him all she could remember was that humiliation again.
Batman knew that she was often at the perch. On the rare occasion he wanted to deliver a warning, or ask a question he would find her there. She watched him swing by on occasion also, knowing that he was probably aware of her gaze and ignoring it. She had wanted his acceptance so badly.
On this night no one had passed, and she had been sitting at her perch for far too long. She ached to be doing something, especially if it meant she could drop some crooks. Her fists and their blood, a non-lethal fight to defend the good citizens of Gotham. She straightened out her line and prepared herself mentally, taking a few seconds to compose her expression and calm her thoughts. He would know what she was up to this night, and even if he didn't approve, perhaps it would be one more night in which he did not disapprove.
+
*I want to add a series of vignettes, as separate chapters, for Huntress. Hopefully they won't suck. +