Sorry about the wait! Stupid Hurricane Irene, right? That bitch better get back in the kitchen and make me a damn sammich! (That's the only cursing in here! Scout's honor!)
I'm not super-well versed in the comic timelines, so I'm changing it to benefit my story… It's fanfiction so why not?
Orange and Black
Chapter Three
Hopefully, we can build a rivalry and we'll be able to do this a lot. Make a legacy, then retire [as] champions. -Serena Williams
Low on the horizon, meeting with the ground between the partings of the oak trees, the sun was beginning to fade. Her psych class had run late, yet again. After three months of lectures, you'd have thought Crane would have learned to shorten his elaborate speeches on Jung to an appropriate length. Alas, it wasn't to be. And to top it all off, they'd been assigned a final project. Taylor's partner?
Barbra Gordon.
One of Taylor's uppity personal philosophies was to be a friend to all, but Barbra Gordon made that rule almost impossible to follow. It was a rare occurrence for the commissioner's daughter to actually stay awake for the whole of Crane's lectures, then again it was hard for Taylor to stay awake; but one had to consider that Taylor moonlighted as a vigilante beating up bad guys with her bare hands.
Taylor highly doubted Barbra had that particular excuse.
Yet, no matter how much studying Taylor did, she always came second best to smarty-pants-Gordon: the genius. Edict memory and three seconds per page reading speed? Yeah right. Taylor was positive Barbra was cheating.
There was nothing Taylor despised more than a liar…
"Barbra," Taylor called to her fellow soulless ginger, "Barbra! Will you wait up, for God's sake?"
Barbra turned around, features blocked by a somewhat large set of spectacles. Yes, she was beautiful, but in a unique way. Barbra was well built, like many heath nuts in Gotham, and shapely. The latter making Taylor's bitter attitude shift to slight jealousy. Barbra had a strong face, as opposed to Taylor's soft and very feminine features, yet it was still very attractive.
Barbra smiled back at Taylor's approaching form, who found a way to make the friendly gesture seem insincere.
"It's Taylor, right?" Barbra asked, holding out her hand expectantly as Taylor halted.
Of course it's Taylor, you idiot. Crane JUST told you my name like two minutes ago.
Taylor's brow twitched upwards with her nod, "Sure is, and you're Barbra."
It wasn't a question, but Barbra answered, "Yeah," anyway. Taylor found herself growing steadily more annoyed with the other ginger the longer they were near. Hoping that feeling would fade, being stuck with the partner, Taylor continued to hold back most of her contempt.
"So," Barbra released Taylor's hand and they started to walk towards the dorms, "What's our topic? I don't think I heard it."
I don't hear things when I'm asleep either. Taylor waved her hand in dismissal, "Ethics. You know, right, wrong, and the like."
"'The like'?" she frowned at our protagonist.
Taylor shrugged, "Crane said something about wither ethics differ in different societies or if there's a universally understood truth. How are the beliefs inspired, why do they exist, and, lastly, how can servants of these ethics manifest their practices?"
(A.N. I actually had an essay prompt very similar to this one. I used it as an excuse to write about Batman.)
That elicited a drawn out sigh from Barbra, "Great."
A ghost of a chuckle escaped Taylor's lips, "Shouldn't be that bad. I mean, at least we aren't locked to a paper or anything. We could always make a video."
A smirk etched it's way across Barbra's face, "Yeah, 'cause that worked out sowell the last time you tried!"
Taylor clicked her tongue against her teeth at that, "Granted, it was my mistake to make a parody of Crane's favorite lecture topic. I'm telling you that man's so sensitive, watch him come into school with a gun or something… but, that's beside the point."
Barbra laughed and stopped walking when they reached the parking lot, Taylor paused for only a moment to say, "If we make a video, a serious one, or a poster for all I care, we can finish this thing in a week or two and get at least a 'B.'"
The commissioner's daughter looked away in thought, "Okay. Let's think about it and talk again tomorrow. Starbucks, three o'clock?"
Taylor turned on her heel and walked away with a careless wave over her shoulder, "See yah then."
Hearing Barbra peel out of the parking lot, Taylor rolled her eyes, insulting phrases coming to mind. Now, Taylor was never an overly competitive person, but while she'd been hard at work trying to become valedictorian of the senior class, Barbra was always sleeping yet still top of the class.
Taylor Riot was NOT jealous. It simply killed her on the inside that the old phrase "cheaters never prosper" was failing at life.
Taylor arrived in her dorm room to find Maggie had already left, probably for some frat party, and she chucked her things into the closet. In no mood to spend her usual three hours on homework, Taylor grabbed the medium sized black trunk from the bottom of her closet, opened it, and suited up.
The night was hers again.
\~~~/
The salubrious nighttime air was alive with the buzzing and blinking orange neon shining from a gentlemen's club, a warning of the…dirtier sections of Gotham. The streets seemed especially depressing underneath the cliché howl-worthy full moon, reveling the surprisingly-present pools of polluted rain littering the rooftops.
The still-damp concrete rooftops were silent, eerily so. The puddles were akin to manifested shadows, still and glass-like, reflecting the moonlight. Then quickly, missed by a flicker of the eye, the reflection rippled like in Jurassic Park. Then again. A splash sounded almost before the neon boot had a chance to kick off again, leaving the puddle blurred.
She immediately went into action throwing up her right arm to block the man's in-coming left hook. The man's wild haymaker met the teen's elbow, then his knee met Claw's sturdy hands, blocking the attack on the girl's brightly clad abdomen. Claw leapt up and threw out her leg at the man's face, missing narrowly. The masked man threw his weight into his fist, aiming for Claw's nose.
Bob and weave, vulnerable left ribs. Kick to diaphragm.
Claw, quick as a hungry guy at Golden Coral, ducked and maneuvered around the limb then sent out a swift, but strong, body hook to the man's weakened left ribs. Claw hardly gave the guy time to stumble back before delivering a jab-like kick into his diaphragm. The masked man propelled away a few feet and landed on his back, hard.
Thankful for the moments of breath, Claw took the opportunity to run. Turning tail, she quickly sprinted towards the ledge. Hearing footsteps, she quickly dodged to the left, turning in mid-air to face the man.
She ducked a high kick and attempted to swipe out at the masked man's legs. He leapt up in response, retaliating with a kick that caught Claw off guard. Trying to stand up and throw in a right cross, Claw had no time to think before a shin struck her exposed ribs followed quickly by…some sort of bone crushing Hulk-punch to her face that sent her spiraling.
With a hissing intake of oxygen, Claw stumbled away, clutching her ribs. She was lucky. If she hadn't breathed out when he had struck, forcing her ribs to tighten, she could have been dealing with broken bones. As if she didn't have enough problems. Now that she thought about it, her hand's were throbbing after that knee block, and her already injured ribs were screaming at her, her masked face could wait for analysis later.
What's with this guy? The cash is gone! Why's he still fighting?
"Is that all you've got?" the masked man taunted.
"Shut up!" Claw lashed out, voice harsh and unforgiving. The red-head charged, leaping into the air and swiping a kick at her opponent's face with an angry cry. Miss, dodge, punch, blocked. Jump off ledge, kick to face. He went around it. Retaliate. Blocked. Move, too slow! The masked man snatched Claw's bicep and heaved her in the other direction.
A traumatized outcry later, Claw grimaced in pain after she practically flew across the roof, falling into backwards summersaults before slamming back first into the two-foot concrete wall. Rolling to her hands and knees, she coughed out a swear.
"You're going to have to do better than that," the masked man chastised, "I haven't even broken a sweat."
Claw's teeth ground together like faulty clock gears and she glared, forcing herself back up. Leaping back into the fight was easy, staying in however was much more difficult than the red-head was willing to stand. There was simply no time to think about the next move with this masked man always there to exploit every flaw in her technique. A technique she'd spent five painstaking years perfecting.
Punch, kick, block, step ba-where'd that pipe come from? Turn it into a roll-he followed-go into a handstand, kick him in the chest. Success!
The masked man stumbled backward. Claw was on her feet and moving before the masked man fully regained his balance. Ducking forwards, Claw could feel just how close a blind fist swiped at her skull, but that didn't stop her assault. The masked man ducked under the red-head's unorthodox kick and attacked in return.
Claw used a short back-handspring to dodge, then kicked out at the masked man's abdomen. He easily avoided the girl's limb and expertly dodged an angry right cross. For Claw, time was moving much to fast as they blocked, bobbed, and weaved around each other's fists, elbows, knees, kicks, and was that a head-butt? Claw was so out-of-it, in fact, she was unable to recognize what movements she was making until she was already in the middle of the attack.
But, the masked man remained three steps ahead.
"Speed, aggression, adaptation, improvisation, good technique." he praised, blocking Claw's frustratingly slowing attacks.
WHACK
Having picked up on Claw's breathing patterns, the one-eyed man was able to strike a powerful hit to the vigilante's diaphragm, effectively knocking the breath out of her comparably small body.
With a coughing release of the remaining air in her lungs, followed by a painful thud, Claw collapsed, hitting her head hard against the textured concrete rooftop. The red haired girl groaned, finding it excessively painful to move as she rolled over. The feeling increased when the masked man's foot stomped on her abdomen, forcing a painful shriek from the girl's lips and pinning her to the rooftop.
"But, I was expecting perfection from one of Batman's sidekicks," the masked man said cruelly, "How disappointing."
Claw's hands desperately clawed at the crushing foot as she seethed, "Are you kidding?-*breathes heavily*-I'm no sidekick!"
"Really?" He asked, voice monotonous and portraying none of his surprise.
She gasped another deep breath, "What's your-*breathes heavily*-deal?-*breaths again*-What do-yah want?"
"Now, now, child." the masked man chastised at the gasping teen as if he had said this a million times before, "Patience."
Shaking in some mixture of exhaustion, pain, and fury, Claw growled through clenched teeth, "Don't lecture m-!"
The masked man lifted his foot and slammed it back down onto the poor teen's diaphragm, interrupting the shouting and instead bringing a blood chilling outcry. Claw released the man's foot as it lifted again; groaning, she rolled over to her side, facing away from the man, and hugged her chest, trying to relieve the pain in any way she could. Claw's face scrunched up in pain as her eye involuntarily twitched, responding to her turmoil.
"Get up, girl."
Claw groaned again as she rolled onto her front and supported her body on the right elbow, leaving her left arm to caress her torso.
The masked man's voice grew frighteningly deeper, "I said-"
Claw greedily sucked in oxygen, before losing it after a foot connected with her bruised ribs, chucking her onto her battered back once again. In the distance, something dark, a flying shapeless blob faded into sight.
"Get up," the masked man repeated menacingly, his one eye narrowing.
Clenching her teeth, Claw rolled over and forced herself onto all fours. With the sort of rejuvenated energy the masked man knew came only from shear willpower, and fear of course, the vigilante began to push herself up. The shadowy blob grew larger, looking almost like a humanoid yet monstrous version of the black-glass puddles that soaked Claw's cape.
"Very good," the masked man cooed, sounding pleased before his voice turned serious, "Now ru-"
WHAM
Boots, black combat ones, collided with the man's shoulder blades, sending him flying forward. The shadow person, no longer a blob, landed with a small splash where the masked man had been previously. The man, Claw was glad to see him caught off-guard, landed on his face only yards away from Claw herself.
Last night, Claw had decidedly held contempt for The Bat. Yet here she was, defying her feelings, never as joyous to see anyone more than she was to see him now from her peripherals.
Claw stopped trying to get up as she reached her knees, palm to the unforgiving ground. Her jaw dropped and her brow furrowed like a dumbfounded cartoon. That wasn't The Bat; it had the ears, the cape, the belt, but this was all wrong.
Batgirl bobbed and weaved around the masked man's attacks much easier than Claw had, but her moves were more predictable, too formal and lacked improvisation.
The man was gaining control of the fight eerily quickly and eventually, Batgirl shouted for Claw to run. Forcing herself to her wobbly knees and catching herself before she could fall back to the ground, Claw knew she had to get out of there. As much as it murdered her pride, she wouldn't be any help in her current state; heck, she might even get herself, and Batgirl, killed.
Brown eyes catching sight of a wooden door, that would probably open to downward stairs, Claw stumbled into a weak sprint. Stride growing faster and faster as she approached in excitement, Claw braced her shoulder for impact, no intentions of stopping once she was in.
CRACK!
Claw's disoriented body ricocheted off the wood door and she fell on her face, shoulder screaming. Yes, the door had caved against the force of her body, but only partially. When she looked back, she saw why: the hinges were on her side of the door.
Stupid, she berated herself, stupid, stupid, stupid.
Rolling back towards her shoulders, Claw used her hands to push off the ground and kicked herself up to her feet, only for her side to suddenly get acquainted with the masked man's foot.
Mind you, this wasn't the kind of kick that someone delivered after walking up to you, picking up their leg, and letting you have it. No, this was a "dynamic entry" type of kick and it sent poor Claw crashing through the splintering remains of the wooden door.
She fell through the air with prolonged suspension, meeting the bottom of the first flight of stairs when gravity finally did it's painful job. A curse flew from Claw's breathless body as she lay there, movement a laughable subject for several moments. Even if she wanted to suffer the pain of movement, Claw would never have made it anywhere, for the masked man was crouching over her.
"Not so fast, girl," he growled sharply as an unforgiving hand close around her throat, "I'm not finished with you yet."
Claws eyes, aided by the surrounding shadows, narrowed to white slits behind her serrated mask, "But, I'm finished with you!"
With a kind of B-A battle cry, she kicked out with her legs into the man's crotch, sending him flying forwards into the wall behind her head.
CRASH
Sparks danced across Claw's vision and for a moment, she thought she had passed out. No. She rolled to her stomach, and saw the yellow flicks of electricity coming from the masked man's face.
No flipping way…
The robot slouched to the floor and Claw's adrenaline had her crawling to the imposter's side in nano-seconds, ignoring the cries of concern from the top of the stairs. With a grunt, she flipped the hunk-o-junk over and saw the mask, half orange and half black was split. The majority of the black side crumbled at her touch and clattered against the floor, revealing half of a cracked glass screen.
With a twitch of her fingers, the orange side (attached to a the few remaining black pieces) fell into her hands. The screen contained nothing but static for a moment then it flickered, the quality was terrible and the static combated with the picture for dominance.
On the screen, Claw couldn't believe what she saw.
"Very good, child. I never would have expected you to go below the belt," the masked man on the screen praised, though his voice suggested nothing less than distaste. The red-head's jaw dropped as the sound of timid footfalls sounded from behind her.
"Wha-? Who-?" Claw stammered, her hair stuck to her face with salty sweat and something warm trickling from her hairline.
The masked man interrupted, "All in good time, girl, all in good time," before the static reclaimed control of the screen. Then it was black. The staircase was dark as pitch and eerie as the eye of a hurricane.
"I have a name, you kno-"
Suddenly, something sturdy and unforgiving was around her neck. Claw gagged and struggled as she was dragged back up the stairs. Black spikes from the side of gauntlets unveiled themselves in the moonlight when she reached the top of the stairs, only for a shove to sit her on the rooftop.
"Was that really necessary?" Claw shrieked, regretting it a bit later when yet another figure was crouched over her. Trying the same maneuver, Claw brought her legs up to the shadow's groin.
"Ah!"
Claw cursed again, pulling her leg back from The Batgirl's body armor, clutching it tightly against her battered frame. She'd come prepared. Batgirl possessed a short slender frame, yet she was very imposing from that angle in her black and yellow garb, a mask covered her whole head and sported two pointed triangles on the top of her hidden hairline.
The Batgirl's costume consisted of, apparently, full black body armor, with claw like spikes on the sides of her forearms, a yellow utility belt, black boots, and a short black cape (grey on the inside.) An outline of the bat symbol sat proudly on her chest, beaming yellow in Claw's fuzzy vision.
Claw suddenly felt very threatened.
Batgirl's eyes were only small concaving circles in her mask just above the impression of a nose, like hollow sockets ready to swallow Claw whole. The bat's sidekick leaned in close to Claw's face, "Why was he chasing you!"
Claw's fear overlaid with confusion at that, "What?"
A growl of annoyance, "Why. Was. He. Chasing. You? It's not a difficult question!"
"How should I know! I passed him on the rooftop when I heard a bank alarm! He just attacked!" Claw sent a fierce glare.
Batgirl paused, perhaps in surprise, Claw wondered. After a moment, the sidekick spoke, voice much less harsh, "You mean he attacked you for no reason?"
"Isn't that what I said?" Claw snarled. She shoved at the girl above her, "Now get off me!"
Batgirl allowed Claw to shove her up. The latter rolled over, resting her head on her arm.
"What'd he steal?"
Claw huffed a chuckle, "Nothing."
Bargirl's voice morphed to confusion as Claw pushed herself up, "You said-"
"I know what I said," Claw snapped, "I didn't let him keep it. The cash he stole, I mean."
Standing at full height now, Claw could see just how powerful Batgirl looked; something about her standing straight made her seem in control, or was it the faceless mask? Claw couldn't be sure.
"Where is it?" Batgirl asked impatiently, quickly getting over Claw's attitude.
"Some alley back that way," Claw waved her hand to the north, "It's probably still there."
\~~~/
Elsewhere, in an alley about three buildings back, the scruffy elder gent from chapter two was trotting along his favorite path; in fact, it was the only one he knew of which didn't hind a million and one druggy inhabitants. He never touched the stuff, personally.
Probably because he couldn't afford it, but let's not argue semantics; the point was he didn't dabble with the drugs, no matter how much Arty, his friend, insisted he try.
Back to topic, "scruffy elder gent" practically strutted down the alley as if he owned it. Spotting his favorite dumpster hangout, he bounded for the green container he planned to sleep in that night, when she spotted something funny. Or rather, funny looking.
Pausing in his steps, he stared at the bag whose slightly damp contents were spread out of it like spilt milk. Spilt green papery milk. Taking three big steps, he knelt over the bag, inspecting it.
Perhaps it was time to pay Arty a visit after all…
\~~~/
"So what's your name?"
The question caught Claw off guard, "Tay-wha-…Why do you ask?"
Batgirl shrugged, giving no indication that she had noticed the slip, "You've got the costume, so you gotta have a name, don't you?"
Claw rose an eyebrow, "…Claw."
A nod later, Batgirl held out her hand, "Batgirl."
"Duh," Claw sighed, taking her hand. The shake was uncomfortable on Claw's part, so she quickly released the hand and started walking in the opposite direction. Eyes locked on the ledge, knowing of the escape route waiting for her. With a careless wave over her head, Claw spoke awkwardly, "Thanks, I guess. For the help, I mean..."
"Wanna meet up?" Batgirl inqured, cautious. "Starbucks? Three o'clock?"
Claw halted in her steps, chest constricting for a moment, before a smirked apeard on the vigilante's face, "Make it three thirty, I've got a previous engagement."
When she turned, Batgirl was gone.
\~~~/
Warning: I've got a lot to say.
I've been thinking and I figure that it's only fair to tell you what characters I plan to use in this story (some have already appeared):
Confirmed: Batman, Alfred, Nightwing (later), Jason Todd/Robin (later), Batgirl/Oracle, Commissioner Gordon, Scarecrow, Slade(small part for now), The Joker, The Red Hood (later), The Black Mask (later), Amazo (later), Ra's al Ghul (small role later), and Salvatore Maroni (later).
Under Consideration (I have ideas, but not sure how to properly use them): Two-Face, The Riddler, Hush (Tommy Elliot might make a brief appearance soon), Harley Quinn, The Great White Shark, Carmine Falcone, Victor Zsasz, Hugo Strange, Jack Ryder/The Creeper, and Catwoman.
Feel free to request someone. I promise to deliver! …I'm a woman of my word.
ONE LAST THING:
I chose the Cassandra Cain costume because it seemed the most intimidating, but the character is still Barbra Gordon. Plus, if both Claw and Batgirl had exposed red-hair that would be weird (and this author is dumb and didn't think of that before she started writing. Stupid, stupid, stupid.)