Bane's Sewer Mouse
Chapter 1
Ooo
Through a series of criteria, Bane has chosen a woman to carry on his genes. Unfortunately for him, her temper and foul-mouth was something he hadn't anticipated. For this to succeed, she needs to cooperate, and he needs to figure out how to do that. Bane/OC Takes place during DKR.
AN: Hi! I took this offline for a while so I could edit it and make it an all around better story. You won't be missing much of the plot if you have read this before and don't want to read through it again. It just sounds better this time :)
ooo
It was the opening performance of Lysistrata at the Gotham Opera House. It was a highly anticipated event, a red carpet had been rolled out and local celebrities and personalities had been invited. The GOH had just been completely revamped, thanks to a completely anonymous donation. The gossip columns tried for months to pin down who the donor was, but in the end no names were reveled. In reality, it didn't matter because in the end, the center of the city now glittered with the bright lights that constantly shone on the beautiful white building, with it's marble steps and gold accents. Although not publicly acknowledged, the increased police force in the area was mainly to protect this building. Gotham, after all, is not known for having the most savory of citizens.
While the celebrities meandered in through the gigantic gold-framed front doors, the actors, technicians, and management came in through a much simpler door in the back. While the chatter in the house grew to a roar, assistant stage managers parked orders at the actors.
"Do a prop check, guys," The mousy ASM shouted into the girl's dressing room. "Fifteen 'till places."
"Thank you, fifteen," The girls droned in monotone, the polite way in the theatre world to acknowledge what they had said without taking too much time.
This particular show was not, in fact, an opera, but a very old Greek play. It seemed odd at first and the community was timid about giving the show support, but when it came out that it was requested by the donor, the community opened up. The previews had gone well and the reviews were nothing but glowing.
Or so Ann Goynes had been told. Playing the title character, Ann refused to read any blog or newspaper article about the show. It was a habit she picked up in undergrad, when some bio student wrote all the articles about her shows for a job at the newspaper when they didn't know theatre at all. It frustrated her. Now, when her name appears, it is written by a professional, but it is also not her name. She leafed through the playbook in front of her. Winifred Todd's name was next to her picture. It was still strange, her agent had suggested only a year ago she change her name and it was still hard to respond too. But she had gotten more rolls because of it, including this one.
"Can I borrow your lipstick, Winnie?" Another actor, a sweet girl named Jillian, asked.
Without saying a word, Ann handed her the tube. She was nervous, obviously, and feared palling around would take her out of the mood. She didn't make very many friends with this production anyway. Everyone was too busy trying to make it perfect.
The other girls bustled in front of their own mirrors lined with lights, putting the finishing touches on their faces and costumes. Ann glanced to the mirror one last time, adjusted her wig, and walked out. This is it, everything she's worked for. People laughed when she said she was going to be an actress, of the stage no less, but here she is. Ann swells with pride from her own little pep talk but quickly stamps it down. A cocky actor is a horrible actor. She got into place and waited for the show to begin.
Ooo
There was a witness who came forward after the event who told what he saw from the outside, which was all the police could get about the events leading up to the attack.
With fifteen minutes until the curtain was supposed to raise, the front doors were closed. As if on cue, a team of motorbikes screeched to a halt down the street. The bikes were pulled into an alley and their riders continued their mission on foot. All of them were men, all imposing, about twelve of them, and all but one laden with heavy machine guns. The one that wasn't was the most imposing of all. A hulking figure with heavy boots that made a loud thunk with every step. At the base of the steps, the party halted. They all turned to the giant as if waiting for a signal, and he in turn looked at another member who checked his watch. He then held up one hand, all his fingers splayed. Five minutes until curtain.
The apparent leader then nodded his head and all his men went running, surrounding the building. He himself then walked up the marble steps. There was a pause, and then a whistle. The man then kicked open the glass door, which easily shattered. The witness then saw him dart inside with incredible speed, out of sight just in time for several people to run in to see what happened. A distraction. That's where the witness's report ended.
Ooo
Inside of the theatre, the lights dimmed and then were off, the chatter ceased, and the curtain rose. The stage burst with life as characters rolled out and dialogue started going. These actors really were the best of the best of Gotham's stage (which should be taken with a grain of salt because, well, it isn't that thriving of a scene. Which is why this remodel came as such a surprise).
Ann started the show off and hit almost every mark, but she did not hold the show alone. When she accidentally skipped a line in the first scene, her counterpart picked it up beautifully. Ending that scene, there is a monologue where Lysistrata is pleading with the audience to understand her. Considered to be a particularly hard monologue, this was the one that Ann spent the most time working on. She proudly and boldly faced the audience and as she opened her mouth the speak the first line, her eyes caught those of someone standing behind the very last row.
You see, the thing about stage lights is that you can't see anything but white for about 100 feet, but after that, everything is clear. And this man, he was impossible to miss. A bulky, enormous figure with the biggest arms she'd ever seen folded across a massive chest. She locks eyes with his, most of his face was covered with a thick scarf. In that second, she realized she had been staring at this man and her words and movements have just been done thoughtlessly, so she quickly looks away and tried to gather herself and finish it off strong.
But only a few more lines in, there is a gun shot suddenly fired inside of the theatre. It was so loud that it rung in Ann's ears. Out of instinct, she hit the floor, and tried to look past the stage lights to see what is happening. She can hear a lot of panic, even her fellow actors were racing off stage. Ann decided to make a run for it with them. She jumped up and started to run for the wings, crying out when more shots were fired, selfishly thankful each time it wasn't her that was hit. She saw Jillian and few other of the girls motion for her to hurry up.
Someone catches her arm and whirls her around. Her artfully designed wig falls off. Ann's assailant looks down on her, he's at least six feet tall, dirty, smelly, and bearded. He looks over his shoulder and shouts something in some other language, Russian maybe? But from the screams and chaos of the house, an answer in the same language comes, but with a strange, hoarse accent.
The man holding Ann turned back to her and said "I'm sorry", in English.
A second later, the butt of a heavy gun comes crashing down on her skull.
Ooo
Ann wakes up with a start. Everything around her is dark and for a split second, she believes she has gone blind. But slowly, her eyes start to adjust to the dark. There was some thunderous noise coming from somewhere, but she couldn't place the sound. She was lying in a large cot that smelled rancid and old. Beyond the foot of the bed, she couldn't see much. She also didn't hear anybody, but it was hard to be certain with that noise in the distance.
Gingerly, with two fingers, she pulls back the moldy blanket that is covering her. It was rough and scratchy and a little crunchy but it must have been warm because as soon as she pealed it off, the cold hit her and struck her to the bone. She was still wearing only the white Grecian gown that was her costume. Her feet were bare and felt icy old when she put her feet to the floor. Vaguely, she wondered where her shoes had gone. Her eyes had adjusted not much more.
"Where am I?" Ann whispered to herself, folding her arms around her for warmth. She remembered everything, and she touched her fingertips to where the gun hit her. She cringed with pain and picked off some dry blood. Mindlessly playing with her wound, she stood up and started to softly pad her way around.
"Oof!" She ran face first into a wall. "Wow Ann, you're quite the escape artist." She was mumbling to herself. It was to keep herself calm. The lack of life scared her, the attack shook her to the bone. But if she can figure out how to get out of here, then she would be able to get home. She clung to that as she walked, using the wall to guide her.
She figured it was a hallway, simple and straight, but it twisted and turned so much that she became frightened that she would never made it back.
"But why would I need to?" She whispered. She was saying most of her thoughts out loud, the noise of her voice keeping her heartbeat from getting too fast. The thunderous noise was getting louder, and after one more turn, light could be seen. Ann started to run, wherever that light was coming from was better then the pitch black of where she was.
Dashing forward, she took a couple more turns and then burst out into the open air. Well not completely open.
In amazement, Ann took everything in. It was obviously some sort of structure, walls on every side, meeting at a circular hole that was letting all the sunlight in. And she found the source of the noise. Right there in front of her stood a huge waterfall. But it wasn't a pretty site like when you see a waterfall in nature, but dirty and brown and LOUD.
She also appeared to on a ledge, with a short hallway on one side, completely lined with old monitors, and a set of descending stairs to the other. She walked to the stairs but only made it to the first step before she heard other voices. They were getting closer.
"Shit shit shit shit," Ann chanted as she ran from the stairs and ducked back into the dark hall, pressing her back against the wall.
The party was walking up the steps, she could hear them getting closer and closer, and then they were on the platform with her. she willed herself to melt into the stone. If she needed to run, she was certain she couldn't find her way back on her own. She could only imagine how easy it is to get lost down here.
The party came into view and then stopped. There were four men, and two she easily recognized. One was her bearded assailant, his gun now missing, and the other was the giant. She slapped herself on the back for knowing something was up with this guy the moment she saw him, but took it back when she realized that did her no good in the end. The giant had his back toward her, but she feared if she moved a muscle, the others would surely see her. Trying to hear them over the water, she realized they were talking in the same language as before.
Ann decided that running away from them was her best bet right then, even if she couldn't find her way back to the end of that one corridor, there had to be another exit somewhere. And if not, she can hide in the darkness until they went away.
The thought only just processed though, and she barely had time to move her feet before the giant man turned. Through a terrifying metal grate-like mask on his face that froze Ann in her track, he hissed in a strange accent,
"Well, it looks like our little mouse crawled her way out of the sewer."