Hey guys, back with a new update! I hope people are enjoying the story so far, but I can't really tell—I need reviews! I like to see readers' feedback, it keeps me motivated to write. And it's very difficult to maintain an excitement to share if I'm not hearing back about my work. I know the first couple chapters may not be terribly exciting, but try to let me know what you think!
Octavia very rarely saw her parents. Ironic, since they did live in the same city, but they were all busy people, Octavia in particular. Her father, Santino, still worked closely with Maroni, helping the man to maintain his power within Gotham; Anita, her mother, though no longer working, still remained quite faithful to the Italian mob, and she was the incredibly sociable type that, at any opportunity, would find time to visit with the other mob families.
Her parents were proud of Octavia, she knew. Sure, they constantly worried for her and often tried to make her rethink her "career" choice, but ultimately they were proud that she'd become the adult she was. It's not that they were proud that she was a criminal (that was a pretty standard thing within their family, after all, so it was no surprise she wasn't working a typical 9-to-5); they were proud that she had taken everything they taught her and managed to become more of a success than the two combined. They were proud to admit to thugs and mobsters that their daughter was "Il Serpente," as some on the mob scene had taken to calling her. She was the snake that managed to strike people where it most hurt, the snake that could be anyone and destroy anyone. Needless to say, she had gained quite the reputation in the organized crime of the city.
Outside of the mobs and their associates, few knew much (if anything) about Octavia. She knew that it was safer for herself and her family to gain as little public attention as possible. Especially once that Batman started showing up. Since then, she only got better at keeping her work and identity secretive. After all, she was much happier roaming the streets freely than she would have been locked up in a Blackgate cell.
One afternoon, after Octavia had met with a man that supposedly had some information on Crane (ultimately, the man was useless to her investigation), she received a call from her father, asking her to meet with the family for lunch. Since it had been so long, she was eager to say yes, though she insisted it be kept short so she could continue her work.
She found herself meeting them at a familiar restaurant, one frequented by the mob—old habits died hard, and her parents were a little too accustomed to sticking to mob territory. With a slight sigh at their predictability, Octavia entered.
She spotted her parents seated in their usual booth, a few other familiar associates seated at the tables around them. Upon her arrival she was greeted warmly by her family before taking a seat. Immediately, her father began questioning her on her newest job.
"I'm working for Maroni again," she replied simply before the trio began to order their meals.
"Maroni's a good man," Octavia nearly scoffed at her father's reply. The two men were childhood friends, so it was no question that their perception of each other was a little skewed, "I'm sure he'll be paying you well."
"You have no idea." She responded, recalling the sum he promised to pay if she completed the task, "It's only a matter of whether or not I can actually get the job done."
Her mother looked puzzled, "It's not very like you to have self doubt. If anything, you're too cocky for your own good." Anita gave a good natured wink to her daughter, who replied with a smirk.
Though she didn't particularly want to discuss her assignment, she knew that her parents would learn about it one way or another, "I imagine anyone would doubt themselves if they were about to deal with a man like the Scarecrow."
Everyone at the table around Octavia very obviously froze.
"The Scarecrow." Her father very nearly hissed, his accent much thicker than his daughter's, "But Maroni's been workin' with him."
"Doesn't mean he trusts the guy." Octavia responded, "He suspects Scarecrow might be tamperin' with their supply, wants me to investigate it."
"I don't like the sound of this job, Vee," Her mother said, placing a hand on her shoulder, "why didn't you just decline it?"
"Maroni didn't give me much of a choice." The young woman replied as she rolled her eyes.
"Want me to talk to him for ya?" Her father's expression was obviously protective—it didn't matter how much they believe in her skills, a job like this admittedly concerned them.
"I already signed a contract, dad," she casually began to sip her drink, as if the discussion they were having wasn't about a mad man in a mask. "Besides, I can handle myself." Octavia hoped her parents didn't pick up on her slight doubt; sure, she was cocky as hell sometimes, but even still this job was intimidating.
"If there are ever any problems," her father started, reaching for her hand across the table, "you call me first, okay? I can get you outta the job if you need."
Octavia shook her head, putting on an authoritative tone, "Dad, please, I'm not a kid anymore—I'm more than capable of handlin' myself."
The two elder Baresis could sense the finality in Octavia's tone. And though they didn't like the sound of the job, they knew their daughter was too bullheaded to back out of the job now.
For the remainder of their lunch, the family pretended they never even discussed the Scarecrow.
It had been nearly a week since Octavia's meeting with Maroni. For that week, she continued her research, though often times she just found repeated information. Any of the sources she tried to talk to also had very little to say on the Scarecrow—no one knew his current hideouts, no one knew what he'd been doing with Maroni's drug. No one knew much of anything, much to her growing frustration.
Octavia had decided that she had probably gathered all the information she was going to find for the time being. So, her top priority then became stocking up and readying any and all of her supplies. She ensured that her GPS and tracker were operational with full battery, checked her ammo supply, and saw to it that all her knives were sharpened. She also had to make sure her catsuit was in pristine condition (it had been so long since she'd used it last, that she knew it had to be nearly perfect) and purchase a gas mask (better to be safe than sorry), knowing both would be entirely necessary in any interaction with the Scarecrow.
When it had finally come time for the Chechen to meet with Crane, Octavia simply informed the Russian that she'd be nearby. Without any further explanation, she'd left the warehouse Maroni used for all his supplies, heading out early to be prepared at the car garage that the group had made the designated meeting place.
A couple days prior, Octavia had gone to the parking garage to stake it out, just to know her surroundings and be prepared for it. It was pretty standard, just a simple twenty minute walk around the whole place to get a feel for it; but it was nonetheless useful to her. There wasn't much in the ways of a formidable hiding spot for her to wait out in, but that could be resolved simply—she just needed to use the cars as her barrier, and she knew those would be in abundance no matter what time of night.
So, the night of, Octavia made her way to the garage beneath a mingle of multiple businesses, hiding the fact that she was in a catsuit by wearing a large sweat shirt, and keeping her weapons stored in a worn backpack—as it got closer to the designated meeting time, then she'd discard the unnecessary items and hide out.
She had more than enough time to prepare herself before anyone's arrival, and she took that time to double check everything she had with her—she didn't have room for error, else she had to wait another week to even try again. Once Octavia noted that everything was in top shape, she secured her equipment to her utility belt and removed the sweater. There was still time before anyone was supposed to arrive, but it was better for her to be prepared now than scrambling later.
Finally, after a wait that felt longer than it was, the watch on her wrist showed the time to be 10:30. Any second now, the two parties should be arriving.
After a few minutes of waiting, a white van drove past her hiding spot, going another level below, and she instinctively knew that that had to be the Scarecrow (no other vehicles had pulled into the parking garage for a long while, so it was only logical for her to come to this conclusion). Octavia waited a moment before moving from shadow to shadow so to follow them; she was quick, but nonetheless stealth, making sure that she remained hidden from all potentially watchful eyes.
Another few minutes passed before the familiar SUVs belonging to Maroni's men pulled up, and now Octavia was on high alert. She only had a few minutes to get the tracker onto the van, and she had to ensure the whole time that she remained unnoticed.
Once men began exiting all the vehicles did Octavia dare to move closer. She inched her way along, laying low to the ground and utilizing the shadows of all the cars still parked around them. For a moment, she stopped, eyes landing on a burlap mask and a tattered suit, and for whatever reason, Octavia froze. She couldn't explain why she took a moment to take in the Scarecrow's appearance—maybe it was sheer curiosity, or maybe it was her recollection of the Terror Night five months ago. Whatever the case, she knew she couldn't waste time, and quickly shook her attention away after catching sight of a small canister peaking out from under the man's jacket. Obviously, she knew exactly what it was, but pushed the thought to the back of her mind, knowing that she had a job to finish before concerning herself with anything else.
Now, Octavia was only a few cars away, and she could hear the Chechen speak, though she wasn't paying enough attention to actually make out his words. Her eyes were darting between the Scarecrow and his four men, all of which had their backs turned to her, though they all, nonetheless, looked intimidating. Moving a little faster, she finally crouched at the front of their van, completely hidden from anyone's line of sight (in that moment, she was particularly glad that the men were meeting in such a poorly lit location).
Reaching into the pouch on her left hip, Octavia gripped the tracker. She quickly turned it on, taking a brief moment to check one more time that it was synced with her GPS, before securing it to the underside of the van. She waited another moment, peaking around the corner of the vehicle to make sure she was still unnoticed before she darted back out, disappearing in the direction from which she came.
'Too easy.' She thought to herself as she waited. Though the task was something incredibly simple, Octavia still had the chance to be glad about her small successes along the road to larger ones.
Quickly, the men finished their trade, all returning to their designated vehicles. Soon, everyone had left the garage, but Octavia still chose to wait another few minutes—she didn't want the Scarecrow to know that he was being tailed, and with the tracker she had absolutely no reason to tail him.
When she felt it was safe to move again, Octavia ran for the motorcycle she parked near the exit of the garage, securing the helmet on her head before pulling out her GPS to check Scarecrow's location. It was no surprise to her to see that the van was heading in the direction of the Narrows—she predicted that the man would be hiding out there or somewhere near the Lower Gotham docks. So, she quickly started in that direction; once she was in the all too familiar neighborhood, then she'd check her GPS for their location again.
About fifteen or so minutes later, Octavia found herself in the complete and utter slum of the Narrows. Sure, the whole neighborhood was considered a slum, but a particular stretch—in the northernmost part of the neighborhood—was an exceptionally rough area for anyone to be found in.
From her hidden perch at the top of an apartment complex, Octavia watched the scene below with careful eyes—many feet away, the Scarecrow had exited his white van, looking over a notebook in his hand as his four guards carried boxes around him. He seemed incredibly nonchalant, not even sparing a small glance at the men at work; obviously, this was something they had done often. The men were walking in and out of another rundown apartment, similar to the one Octavia sat atop, though theirs (if she were to guess) was almost certainly abandoned.
It was genius of him, really, to be hiding in plain sight like this; all he needed was a cruddy apartment in the middle of the Narrows, but it was enough for him not to be found by the police or the Batman. Too often, the police force expected criminals to pick hideouts that were a little more obscure—old warehouses, abandoned restaurants, that sort of thing. They didn't think to look for a man like Crane living so domestically, especially since he had such a high price on his head.
The four men were filtering in and out of a back door, which Octavia assumed led to a stairwell that had access to a basement—it was so typical, after all, for his "secret lab" to be hidden below the street's surface. Wasn't that the trick used in all the movies?
Crane simply stood by, not even remotely concerned about being spotted in the open. Maybe he wasn't afraid or maybe he knew this routine so well. She couldn't be sure. But regardless, it made her all the more curious as he kept his gaze boring into his notes.
Quickly enough, the group had finished unloading the van, and two of the men returned to their seats in it, disappearing down the road soon after. Cautiously, Octavia shimmied down a drainpipe, keeping herself hidden by the building's shadow. While doing so, the last two of Crane's thugs disappeared into the building, leaving their boss to enter the back door soon after.
After a few long moments of waiting, Octavia quickly darted out across the street, silent as ever in her approach. She paused, leaning against the old brick wall, listening for any sign that she was noticed. After no sounds met her ears, she directed her attention to the door, staring at it in thought. Should she try to enter? Octavia knew that she came more than prepared for a confrontation, but for whatever reason, she wondered if that was the step she would thus take. From this evening she had gained quite a bit of intel, which made her hesitate to move forward just yet. What if trying to go in undercover would be more fruitful than a full blown attack? But then again, what if waiting to go undercover would be a waste of time that set her back?
She'd been debating on her plan of action for a while now. The professional side of her thought to just go in now and attack, but her more personal side, the one curious about and fascinated by the doctor, wanted to wait it out.
Finally, after wasting too much time standing around in thought, Octavia started a dash down the street, expertly hiding in the shadows along the way, as she made her way back to the motorcycle she had parked a number of blocks away. Waiting at least another day couldn't hurt, this she knew. She had decided that just attacking would not be in her best interest—it'd be better for her to wait till she could sneak around the building without disturbances. That way, she'd gather all the information she could need without encounter the Scarecrow.
She, however, was unaware of Crane's eyes watching her disappear from the basement window.
Not even a minute after entering the basement, he caught glimpse of a shadow dance across the room, shining in by the streetlights outside. His thugs had turned in for the night somewhere in rooms up above him, and now he was completely alone. Ever the cautious man, he snuck to the small, nearly unnoticeable window that was level with the pavement. He waited, not noticing anyone as he reached for his mask heedfully—the Scarecrow telling him that he had somehow been followed. He slipped the mask over his head quickly, eyes again returning to the street outside.
Finally, after about a minute or so, the same figure dashed across his vision, though only briefly. Crane couldn't make out any distinguishable features; all he saw was a person clothed in black disappear around a corner.
So, he had been followed. But by who? And better yet, why?
His initial thought was the Batman. However, he scrapped that idea quickly; if it had been the infamous bat outside, then the man would have broken in and taken Crane on head first. But who else would have followed him? The doctor's head reeled with ideas, and he had drawn a couple of possibilities: 1) it was someone tied to the police, or 2) it was a lowly criminal who had no idea who they almost messed with. But, then again, he had just come from a meeting with the Chechen—was it possible he was followed by one of Maroni's men?
With a final cautious glance out the window, Crane returned his attention to the room around him—he had work to do, and obviously he wouldn't have to deal with anymore trouble for the night.
Upon her return home, Octavia almost immediately began stripping herself of all her gadgets and weapons. Luckily, she hadn't had to use anything tonight, and (though she always did enjoy a good fight) she hoped it would stay that way for the remainder of this job. After discarding everything safely away, Octavia also removed her catsuit, preferring nudity to clothes in the comfort of her own home, as she replaced it back in a drawer.
Octavia was eager to return to Crane's lab as soon as possible; after the evening she had, she felt incredibly reassured that the job would be easier than she had first anticipated. All she needed to do was stake out at the abandoned apartment for a couple of days, waiting for it to be empty and give her the chance to enter. However, the waiting was the worst part—sitting still for hours at a time was definitely not one of Octavia's favorite activities, but it was nonetheless a part of her job.
As Octavia grabbed for her notebook on Jonathan Crane (she kept separate notebooks for all the jobs she's had, dating all the way back to her first robbery with a couple of mob friends when she was just sixteen), she began to think of what she'd need this next time around. She'd bring her usually weaponry—a gun, a few knives, and her escrima sticks (which were her favorite weapons to use, much to the surprise of others)—and her GPS in case she had any reason to track the van again. She'd also need her night vision goggles and, potentially, her camera and notepad. And, of course, the gas mask, in case she ran into any trouble along the way.
Octavia jotted down information about the apartment in the Narrows, as well is a description of the night, just for memory's sake. Maybe even as early as tomorrow evening, she'd be completing the job already, the thought both exciting her and depressing her. After all, Octavia expected an assignment like this would have been way more exciting than it turned out to be.
'Oh well,' she thought while looking back over her notes, eyes halting on an image of Crane that she had printed out. For a few long moments, she stared at his portrait, 'guess next time I'll just have to secure a job killing the Batman if I want any excitement.'
And with that final thought, Octavia decided it was time for her to get some rest for the next day.
Sooo, let me know what you thought of the chapter! Reading reviews is like opening Christmas presents, I love them!
Also, shout out to Forbidden Moons and a guest reader for reviewing so far, I'm happy to be hearing your thoughts!
