The LOAD is back. Apparently she got bored with New Orleans and took a trip up to Gotham. Poor Bats.
It was night. Dark. The woman walked down the streets of the city with an air of arrogance, or would have if she didn't trip in about three holes as she walked. She was of average height, thin as a rail yet not flat chested and looked like she was in her early twenties. She wore black, heeled boots that she was having difficulty walking in and a tight red body suit that showed just enough cleavage. At her waist was a dagger. It had a silver blade that looked as if it had never ended a life. The handle was golden with two rubies at the end. The sort of dagger you would see in some kind of occult ritual. The woman's hair was a dark shade of black and here skin was just the right shade of pale. At the moment her eyes where brown, although that could change at any moment. In fact, none of her appearance was permanent. Her true form was far more powerful than this pitiful atrocity. She moved like a shadow across the street making sure none saw her. She was on an important mission that she had sent herself on. Despite her apparent youth she was far older than any human on this world. She had been born long before the first upright ape had even appeared. Due to her age she was on a constant quest to entertain herself. And the resent happenings in Gotham city where to good to pass up. The "Rogues Gallery" that was plaguing the city as of late seemed just the sort of crowd she could nestle into. The woman slipped into the building where she new them to be meeting, a delightful little nightclub called The Iceberg Lounge. She entered the building cautiously, carefully making sure she made not a sound. She glided past the guards that prevented citizens from disturbing the criminals while they held their meeting. The woman approached the door, turned the handle and entered.
The rogues quickly ceased whatever discussion they were in the process of having and stare at the woman standing in the doorway before them. She flashed the group a small, wicked smile.
"Mind if I come in," she said in a low voice. Before they had the chance to answer she had entered the room and closed the door. When the door was shut she turned back to the group still smiling.
"I much prefer it when doors are closed," she said. "It gives the illusion that ones conversation is private and secure." Chuckling, she walked up to the table, waiting for one of the group to make the first move.
"Who are you?" one of the rouges asked. She turned to see the speaker was and froze when she saw him. Her eyes narrow and her heart raced with a combination of terror and utter loathing. A low growl echoed in the back of her throat as she attempted to suppress her rage and a long hidden phobia. Scarecrow. Ever since she was a still in her egg (she would never forgive her guardians for that) she had feared them. As she grew older and stronger her terror of the object was replaced by another emotion, hatred. She swallowed her rage (and resisted the urge to tear open the man's throat) and answered the question.
"Who am I?" she chuckled. "I have many names, but you can call me…" she paused looking for the right label at the moment but none came to her. Fuck, I knew I should have planned this out. Eliza? No. Landi? Hell no. The Once and Future King? Maybe…
"We're waiting," the scarecrow man said, sounding as though he was becoming annoyed.
"Hold on," the woman said, loosing her confidence. She ran through a few more names before picking one. "… Lizzie." She turned back to the scarecrow waiting for his reply.
"Lizzie?" he said the name with a certain skepticism. "Alright then Lizzie, why are you here?" Lizzie turned towards the man and looked him over. He was tall and lanky, certainly no threat to her (or anyone) physically. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting her incredibly sharp hearing take control. She could hear the beating of his heart and made note it was faster than it should be. He was afraid. That or angry. Probably angry. Perfect. She started to pace around the table speaking as she went.
"I am here because, to put it simply, I'm bored. I have traveled all around this planet and have grown rather tired of the usual." She walked around the table as she spoke, keeping her gaze on the straw man in front of her. "So making a long story short I want to join your little 'club.'" She stopped walking and waited for their response, standing behind the one called Riddler.
"Join?" again the Scarecrow spoke. "Why should we let you?" Her eyes narrowed at his insolence and Lizzie once again found herself resisting her murderous urges.
"Why?" she echoed. In a swift motion she drew her dagger and placed it to the Riddler's throat. "I'll give you three good reasons. One…" she placed a finger on the man's carotid artery. "Two…" she touched his windpipe. "Three…" the jugular. "Three very good reasons, don't you agree?" she grinned wickedly at the group as she waited for their answer. The rogues (other than the Riddler of course) formed a huddle and began to discuss the present predicament. Finally the Scarecrow once again spoke.
"Alright, you can join but first we need to know more about you." Lizzie removed the blade from the Riddler's throat and cocked her head to one side as she wondered were to start.
"Fine. For starters I am 26 million years old." She laughed inwardly at the humans' confusion. "I can be that old because I'm not human. I am what my kind call a Draconic Beast."
"'Draconic,'" the Scarecrow mimicked. "As in dragons or Dracula?"
"Both really. You see Draconic Beast is its own kingdom of life, sort of like bacteria or animals. Both dragons and vampires happen to belong to this classification, as do many other things." She answered almost cheerfully.
"Such as?" the Scarecrow queried further. This only made Lizzie happier! Talking about her kind was like crack to her.
"Well, there's unicorns, dragonflies, seahorses, werewolf, angels, harpies, sirens, elephant, whales, pigs, frogs, krakens, kelpies, pegasi, birds, mothmen, chupacabras, merfolk, hippocampi, phoenixes, rocs, thunderbirds, bats, manticores, lake monsters, sea serpents, chimeras, sphinxes, griffons, hippogriffs, basilisks, cockatrices, gorgons, wyverns, lindworms, kappas, jackalopes, hellhounds, nagas, centaurs, minotaurs and fauns, just to name a few!" Lizzie grinned even wider at the apparent confusion of the humans before her. Once more the Scarecrow was the first to speak.
"Most of those things don't exist," he stated almost angrily. Scratch that he was mad. He was insulted by the very idea that someone would think him stupid enough to believe such faerie tales. "If you want us to believe in such an impossible thing you will need some incredibly convincing evidence. Prove you're a dragon!" he commanded.
"Insolence!" Lizzie roared. Yes roared. Her voice was changing as she flung herself on the table. "If you want a dragon you shall have one!" Lizzie's eyes had already changed, becoming red and slitted. Her teeth were close behind, changing into fangs as her tongue became long and forked. Her legs and arms changed to match each other's length so that she now stood on all fours. Her nails grew to silver talons, both sharp and strong. Her neck and snout stretched out giving her a serpent's throat and a muzzle. Her ears shrank to nothing and were replaced by two silver horns. Black scales sprouted out from her skin, covering her entire body and replacing her hair. Her body elongated slightly followed closely by the growth of a tail, as long as her body and powerful. At the end of her tail grew an arrowhead, strong as diamond and as sharp as her dagger. Lizzie let out a cry of pain as the most painful part of the transformation began, the growth of her wings. Two limbs sprouted from her shoulders, each having six fingers and a thumb. The fingers elongated and when this was completed skin grew between the digits. Scales covered this skin making the wings strong as well as light. The wingspan when stretched out fully would have been three times the length of her body and more than enough to support her in flight. When her body had changed she grew so that she could look Solomon Grundy straight in the eye. As a final touch she took a deep breath and blew out a massive fireball into the air. "Well, that's better." She said when the transformation had ended. "Now do you believe?" Lizzie said to the Scarecrow placing her head (which was about the size of his torso) inches from his chest. He nodded quickly, swallowed and did his best to smile at the creature before him. "Good! I wouldn't be able to think of a way to convince you if you didn't. Hmm. I suppose I would have had to eat you."
"Eat me?" the Scarecrow sounded like he was about to faint. Lizzie however paid him no mind and returned to addressing the group.
"Now then I will be needing a Rogue name," she thought for a moment and then…"Aha, I have it my alias shall be L.O.A.D." she smiled smugly to herself.
"L.O.A.D? What does that mean?" asked the Scarecrow (once again). Lizzie turned back to face him no longer smiling and he immediately regretted his boldness. "If you don't mind me asking." He added hastily.
"L.O.A.D. means 'Leader Of All Draconics' if you must know and is my official title." She said as if he should have known it. He was about to ask another question when Lizzie cut him of by angrily stating, "Yes, I am the god of my kind and don't you dare question that or I really will eat you! Now then where were we? Ah, that's right L.O.A.D. it is!" and with that the Lizzie left the (other) rogues (still in dragon form ) to discuss what had just occurred.
Probably not the best of first impressions, but oh well. Don't be deceived, she isn't as mean as she looks. If you've got questions... I've got answers! So come on down to The LOAD's Emporium of Useless Info! Everything must go and we need you!