Chapter 1: The Dark Isn't So Scary
Perched like a gargoyle on the edge of one of Gotham's skyscrapers, I look over the city. A siren goes off, gunshots echo, cars speed down the street. All seems normal.
Only it's not.
Scarecrow is loose, and the Dynamic Duo missing. Twelve hours and counting.
Nightwing showed up eventually - but he vanished too. Seven hours and counting.
In other words, Gotham is currently screwed. Well, it would be. If I weren't here.
I smirk beneath my mask (not that this idiot can see) as a mysterious dark spot appears in his ratty jeans. My informants say this man was braying about having seen Scarecrow earlier today.
I press harder on his shoulder and ask him about that again.
"Bayside, bayside!" He cries. "He was headed for the waterfront!" The man shrieks, eyes wide with fear. I back off, done pressuring him for now.
I pat him on the shoulder, thank him for his cooperation, and pinch the nerve on his neck that will cause him to pass out. As I lay his limp form against the wall, I think.
Scarecrow is on the waterfront. Is he trying to taint it again? Or is this merely a revenge thing?
Damnit. I never was able to get much on Scarecrow. My informants knew better than to stick around when he came near, and those who didn't learned the hard way. Nothing but nightmares to show for it.
I glance around, checking for watchers, as I prepare to switch my helmet and mask. No-one can see my face. That's essential in the vigilante biz.
I hop on my bike and head to the only currently-available-for-criminals bayside building. Fox Haven.
The abandoned resort/apartments had the perfect place to keep a few Bats hidden. The storehouse of the resort would be filled with plenty of creepy things to feed his 'theme', and no civilians went near there after Joker used the funhouse within for another Robin-killing attempt...
Seriously. Construction companies need to start refusing to build funhouses on this city. It's getting ridiculous.
Upon my arrival at the gates, I park my bike in a relatively safe place, and sneak into the shadows to switch the headgear and reverse my jacket.
My usual red-with-black-ghost-flames helmet is replaced by a bulletproof, metal-alloy, wolf mask. The smooth curves are an almost-black grey, improving the image. To safeguard my identity, I wear wolf-eye contacts over my usual mismatched blue-grey and hazel.
My jacket is pulled inside-out to hide the leather and reveal the tough Kevlar lining and make the many compartments more accessible.
I climb the fire escape onto the roof of the building next to my target, and make my way over.
It's surprisingly easy. Which makes me suspicious.
Keeping to the shadows, I lie in wait of some kind of guard, as I know there will be. Rule one of being a 'good' villain is to not get cocky. Scarecrow is one of the big boys: he wouldn't gave gotten this far if he didn't follow the basic rules.
My patience pays off. Two gas mask-clad men of sturdy build appear.
I watch them as the make a patrol of the rooftop, then follow then silently when they go back inside. Just saved myself the trouble of picking the lock. And having to scope out the entire building to find my bad guy. They led me straight to him.
"I-it's all c-clear, sir." The smaller of the two stutters.
"Good. Now go." Scarecrow replies. Even with that creepy-ass burlap skin of his and my bad angle, I can see his smirk. He's ready to start whatever 'glorious' plan he's got cooked up. I love my innate sense of timing.
Once the guards are gone, I sneak up into the rafters. From above, I can see Batman, Robin, and Nightwing. All of them are secured thoroughly to what look like operation tables.
Repelling down while Scarecrow's back is turned, I discover that there are IVs with a sedative lace keeping them unconscious.
First I get Robin. He's the smallest, and I'm partial to kids. After disconnecting the IV, I begin working on the bindings. Halfway through, he begins to wake. At first he just lays there, still pretending to be asleep.
"It's alright, kiddo, I know you're awake." I breathe in my tenor tone, wanting very much to 'get the hell outta dodge' as fast as possible. His eyes snap open beneath the mask and he begins struggling against me.
"Woah, woah, Jesus kid! Calm down, Tim!" It's the harsh whispering of his name that stills him. He sits there, tense and staring. Then, as he realizes I'm not out to harm him, he relaxes slowly.
"If you're finished, I'd like you to get the rest of these undone. Your buds could probably use some help too, and I already got most of these for you." He looks at me, clearly still half-gone on whatever that sedative was, then nods slowly.
I help him sit up, watch him work on the first strap just to be sure he can do this while delirious, then move on to get Batman. I have no doubt that he can get himself out, but I undo his arms just to speed up the process.
Then I move on to Nightwing. Bludhaven's protector is also very out of it when he wakes. How do I know? He looked at me, and when I pressed my finger to the 'muzzle' of my mask, he just lay his head back down. Yeah. I know he's supposed to be pretty laid back, but that's just not right.
It was just after he woke up enough to begin helping me that Scarecrow walked in.
Nightwing stiffened, I saw Robin freeze in of the corner of my eye, and I never saw Bats move in the first place.
He stood there, staring at me with his eyes narrowed. I stand up, and begin planning how I'll attack as I greet him.
"Hi there!" I say cheekily, waving my hand like an excited child. "Can I help you?" For now, stalling is my best option. And there's no better way to stall with villains than banter and monologues.
We go back and forth for a bit (I won't bore you with the details) then I see Batman slowly easing himself off of the table in a way that says 'keep distracting him'. It's at this point that I decide to send my steel-toed combat boot careening into Scarecrow's poorly-protected left side. And then my leather/Kevlar glove into his face.
I deeply enjoy the thump as he hits the ground and the whoosh of air leaving his lungs as I place my boot forcefully on his chest.
I'm ready to whip out zip-ties, but the wily bastard pulls a knife from God-knows-where and tries to stab my leg. He misses of course. By quite a bit.
I jump back towards him and kick it out of his hands. He jumps to his feet and whips out a spray can. I freeze.
Beneath my mask, I smirk. I know what's in that can. Fear gas. What Scarecrow doesn't know, however, is that one amazing bonus to a full-face mask is the possibility for a built-in air filter. I'm essentially immune to all gaseous forms of attack. It's a great perk.
"So, uh, what does that kind do?" I ask, throwing a fake waver of fear into my voice. He chooses to answer by blasting as much of the gas in my face as he can. I don't react. Not for real anyway. But I can act pretty damn well, when the situation calls for it.
I recognize the gas. It's an oddly colored one, compared to his usuals, and the effects are very easy to imitate. Just collapse into a shaking, stiff, ball.
After I do that, he walks over to stand above me and gloat. Idiot. He begins monologueing. I risk opening my eyes to let me calculate just how to attack.
Scarecrow is standing easily within reach of my legs, so a kick would be useable to get him on the ground. Pinching the nerve in his neck to knock him out is an easy way to end a fight, too.
He shifts a bit, and with that stance, there's no hope of recovery from the sweep I deliver. He's on the ground and out in seconds. I stand up and brush myself off after zip-tying his wrists and ankles. Looking down at him, I can't help but add;
"Two words. Air. Filter."
Turning around, I head back towards where I left the Bat-Clan. Nightwing is sitting on the edge of his table, head clutched in his hands. (I know how he feels. The aftereffects of knock-out concoctions can be killer.) Batman is helping Robin undo the last of his bindings.
The Dark Knight helps his bird to stand, and they begin slowly making their way towards the exit. Nightwing tries to follow only to have his legs give out.
Suddenly I'm there, supporting him with my shoulder.
"C'mon. Let's go." I coax after a moment of stillness. "Nice and slow. That's it." I encourage calmly.
Outside, we join the other two in the shadows. Batman is carrying Robin, and the poor kid is passed out. Nightwing feels much surer on his feet.
"Can you stand on your own?" I ask in quiet tenor. He nods briskly, and I carefully extract myself from under his arm. I hold for a moment, making sure he's steady, then release.
"Scarecrow's inside. He won't be waking up for a bit yet, but you should probably call the police. He had two goons, but I was more focused on getting you out than worrying about them." I say; a little bit louder, but still mindful of the little one.
Without waiting for a reply, I quick give myself a running start and launch myself up to grasp the low-hanging bottom of another fire-escape. Using the momentum, I swing over the trailing and land, feet planted firmly on the grate. My business finished, I begin climbing the steps to the roof.
A bird-styled Batarang (Wingding? ... Nope. Not calling it that. Ever.) embeds itself in the brick. Right in front of my face. I don't flinch, but I came close. I turn on my heel, now facing them.
"Yeah?" I inquire, tilting my head to the side.
"You just show up, help us, and then vanish?" Nightwing says, sounding quite incredulous. I laugh a little at this.
"Sound familiar?" I chuckle.
"Yeah, but that's our shtick." Full blown laughter comes this time. It's hard to keep my masculine tone like this. I'll have to reel it in a bit.
"Sorry, is that a Bat-family tradition?" He laughs this time. Batman does not look amused.
"Okay, seriously. Can we at least get a name?" He asks me after his chuckling has died down.
I freeze for a moment. No lecture on how this is dangerous? No, 'go home, we've got this'?
"... Lupus."
"Okay, Lupus, why are you out here? Why are you doing this?"
There it is. I totally called it.
"Because without you guys, Gotham is screwed. I'm just doing my part as a citizen to help my city." I say, shrugging my shoulders in a nonchalant way. Most of that's true.
"Well that's flattering." He states.
"You're welcome." I reply, amused smile clear in my voice.
"Will we be seeing you often?" We're both startled by Batman pitching in.
Actually, I wasn't planning on hitting the streets for a few weeks yet... But I suppose the best teacher is experience, isn't it?
"Yeah, you'll see me around." I smile.
"Just don't get in the way." Both of us send open-mouthed (though you can't see mine) stares in his direction. That's it? Just like that, I've got the Bat's seal of approval?
At that moment the Batmobile arrives, screeching to a halt scarily close to Batman. As he places Robin on the backseat, I throw Nightwing a two-fingered salute and vanish over the edge of the roof.
It's time for me to get back to the Den.
I, checking for both cameras and stalkers, switch out my costume for my riding gear.
The wolf helmet is removed by my pressing the correct sequence into the pad along the bottom rim. First the front half (consisting of the 'face' and muzzle) and then the back (with the 'ears' and the protective plating for the back if my head and neck).
After carefully placing both halves of my mask in the saddle-bag, I flip my jacket and take off.
The Den, or Dens, are safehouses of mine. There are currently two - one in the Narrows, another in Crime Alley. There is a third being renovated and stocked in North Gotham.
The Dens are also places where I take kids I find on patrol.
Most of the time, I'll catch a homeless kid doing pretty crime to try and survive, find a crime-involved parent dragging their child into the 'business', or I'll spot a runaway hiding on a rooftop or in a back-alley.
When something along those lines happens, I'll give them a choice. A) Keep going, get caught, and end up in jail. Or B) I take them to the Den, they clean up their act, and they move on into a better life.
Their choice.
Pulling into the alley behind the Narrows Den (It's Wednesday. Wednesdays are Narrows days.) I pull my gear into the bag I have stashed behind a dumpster. Then, from the saddle-bag on the other side, I bring out today's haul; clothes, food, and supplies for the kiddos who live here.
Walking in the back door, I exclaim my arrival. I'm met with a wave of adolescents. (The younger ones are all in bed, and the older teens are at whatever job they managed to scrounge up)
Alyssa, the Narrows 'den mom', shoos them all away. The takes my 'loot bag' (an enormous backpack) and leads them to the living-room.
"Thanks Lyss!" I call as I run up the stairs to drop my duffel bag in my room.
"So," I say as I walk back into the living-room. "Who wants to see what Auntie got today?" The kids often see me as their pseudo-aunt, so pretty much anyone who arrived here under the age of 12 calls me 'Auntie'.
"Yes!" Comes the reply from the eleven kids who are gathered.
"Ho-kay, let's see…" I root through the backpack and pull out a large blue T-shirt with the Gotham Knights logo printed on the front. "Who needs it?" I cry, smile spreding as all of the assembled raise their hands and voices.
"Oh, oh, me! Please, Auntie Alex?"
"No! Me! Pweese?"
"Hold it!" One of the tween-ish girls demanded. "I think Lyssa should have it!"
"She's right." One of the boys agreed. There were nods all around, and suddenly Lyssa was blushing.
I laugh as the boy snatches the shirt from me and prances over to her.
"Here you go, Lyssa. I know you like the Knights, and you've been so nice." He smiles brightly at her, and the brunette crouches down to give him a hug.
The rest of the clothing is distributed without incident.
The few toys would be put in the living-room; food in the kitchen; and bedroom and bathroom supplies were to be stashed in their appropriate places.
Once this was all finished, they were all sent to bed. The night was dark, and yawns frequent - no complaining allowed.
Once I make my nightly rounds, checking on all of my charges, I head to bed.
Reflecting on the day, I realize that it really had been a good day.
I'd finally made my debut as Lupus, and made it dramatic; helping/saving Robin, Nightwing, and the goddamn Batman.
I'd gotten a respectable amount of supplies for my kids, and everyone who needed something now had it.
And I'd kicked Scarecrow's ass.
Now that… That was fun.
AN – First chapter!
My god… this took way longer than I anticipated.
8 pages. 8 pages on Word in size 12 font!
Anywho, please R&R! Feedback = Incentive