GOTHAM | NOIR

Prologue

Rain had been dumping onto the streets of Gotham for the past two days. It had been cloudy for what seemed like years, so long that the mere idea of sunlight seemed to be impossible. In reality, it had only been a handful of days as a line of supercells made its way across the east coast. Forecasted to last another two days, depression swept through the city in waves. The citizens of Gotham trudged on, bleary eyed as they commuted home from their long day of work.

For others, work was just beginning.

The water slipped through her fingers as she waited patiently beneath the florescent light of the bathroom. Glancing at her reflection, she splashed her face quickly, wistfully remembering a time when things had been easier. Long, grimy violet hair framed her face, and she tried to find some sort of life behind her irises as she gripped the porcelain of the sink and sighed.

"Hello, ghost." This was the name she had taken to giving herself, after the incident. No longer viewing herself as a person, but rather an empty shell. An entity. A rush of anger surged through her veins, and she grabbed her flask from the inside of her bra, taking a swig of the amber liquid within. It burned down her throat. A creature, searching for feeling. She had been numb for so long. Grabbing her bag, she slipped out of the dingy bathroom, out into the bar to meet her client.

GOTHAM | NOIR
Chapter 1: The Beginnings of a Trail

As the streetlights fizzled on in the squalor of the east side, a young woman sat patiently waiting at a bar. Fat Tony's- the neon sign read, blazing a trail through the rain to the conglomerate of degenerates that always seemed to make its way in, no matter the time of day.

Pale, slender fingers tapped the greasy counter top as she sat cloaked in shadow. Young and beautiful, but with an edge to her. Clothed in a long-sleeved gray shirt with a plunging neckline, black washed jeans, and long black boots that gave the illusion of never-ending legs, she polished off her glass of whisky. Raven pulled a black trench coat more tightly around herself as she noticed a handful of the other patrons giving her lusty looks. The empath felt a slight nudge as their lust began to trickle into her senses. If she hadn't been drinking, it would have overwhelmed her. But now? She was too numb to care.

"Ya want another?" Grunted the balding bartender, Fat Tony. She said nothing, only nodding curtly. It didn't take long before another glass slid down the counter to rest in front of her.

She was dressed for warmth, as she could never seem to keep the cold out. Violet eyes flicked up to rest on the TV in the other corner of the seedy dive bar, watching the Gotham City News while it was muted. She felt a wave of cold creeping in as the door swung open and another soggy customer hunkered down at the far end of the bar. Raven studied him as the bartender poured him two fingers of whisky without asking. Must be a regular. Her eyes flicked back to the old, dusty television. Reporters hastily updated a hostage situation on the air. Two dead at the old Steel Mill, four more being held hostage.

This wasn't her typical meeting place. But she kind of liked it. It looked how she felt inside, essentially. Dirty, dangerous, and broken. A shadow approached her from the corner, and she swiveled. Her client. Silently, she slid a folder from her bag and handed it to the gentleman in exchange for the obscene amount of cash he slapped into her palm.

This is how it always went. Wordless exchanges. It might be because she had a reputation as Gotham's best private investigator. Or it might have been the clientele she had. None of them were quite on the "right" side of the law. But she didn't care, money was money after all.

She took a swig of the whisky, holding it in her throat so that she could feel the burn for awhile longer. It cleared her senses.

Shuddering slightly, her eyes landed once more on the stranger at the end of the bar. She was surprised when her eyes met his bright green ones. A mop of disheveled black hair clung to his head, soaked, sticking to his face like dark fingers. He had an angular jaw, and was undoubtedly handsome, though she could see now that his face was pocked with scars. They studied each other for a moment, and something seemed to burn behind his gaze. It seemed to warm her, almost uncomfortably, yet she couldn't seem to break herself away. She was entrapped in those irises. She felt them piercing through her soul, a green so vibrant it seemed to be moving.

A scraping sound, and the chair next to hers was suddenly occupied. She scowled. A young man had draped himself across the counter next to her, giving her the side eye.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He inquired, voice pitched low. A disgusted chortle escaped her throat. Looking up, she did a double take. A mop of disheveled red hair greeted her, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Roy? What are you doing here?" Another glass lightly tapped her hand as it slid into place. She downed it in one gulp. His expression was haggard, his clothes warn. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Working." Roy smiled uneasily. "It's been a difficult few years Rae. I've been doing detective work, I guess you could say. Ever since we all disbanded after the brotherhood incident. Not everyone 'integrated' as well as you, it seems." Lifting his hands, he dramatically drew quotation marks in the air. Raven rolled her eyes, stifling a smile.

"I haven't seen you in a few years. What are you up to these days?" His hand slid out, carefully touching her pale, gray skin. Jerking away, she glared at him. Roy had always been crass and forward. Her eyes flicked up to the stranger at the end of the bar, and she looked away quickly. He had been studying her with an odd expression, almost bemused as he tried to hide his smile behind another glass. She wasn't sure why she cared, but she did.

"I'm a private investigator." Outside the rain picked up, the cacophony resounding off of the tin roof of the bar. She shivered, pretending to disappear. Willing herself to disappear. "I'm actually working right now."

"That's actually part of the reason I'm here. We need some help." Cocking her head to the side, the demoness swiveled more closely to him, curiosity piqued. "I'm working for the GCPD." Glancing around quickly, he lowered his voice. "There's been a string of disappearances. We think they're linked, but we can't find anything. We have our best detectives on the case. Nada."

Her brows furrowed. Gotham hadn't seen anything like this in awhile. Gingerly, he dropped a few files on the counter top in front of her, shoving his wet hair out of his face. Thumbing through them, she frowned.

"But these are all—"

"Villains." He nodded, raising an eyebrow. Raven's eyes flickered to the man at the other end of the bar, who seemed to be lounging and watching tv. She knew better though, and could tell he was eavesdropping.

"Let's take this conversation somewhere else." Shoving the manila folders into her bag, she stood, dropping a wad of cash onto the grimy counter. Something about the other guy made her uneasy. Roy motioned her to stop.

"There's nothing else to talk about. Look over the files, and give me a call. We'll pay of course, but we need all hands on deck for this. And I can't seem to get ahold of anyone else." Slipping her a card emblazoned with his name and number, he readied himself for the influx of freezing rain as he slipped out the door. Twisting the card between her fingers with a frown, she pocketed it, downed the last of her whisky, and set off for home.

Hey guys. I hope you liked this. I actually have this pretty well mapped out and am already working on chapter 3. I'd appreciate the reviews. If you have any questions I'd be happy to answer them.