batwomans_gotham | Entries tagged with nightlife

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Dick curled up in the library, sure this was the one place nobody would think of to look for him, frowning intensely as his hands flew over the game controls. His eyes, however, seemed to be staring through the handheld, and though he was curled up in a more or less hidden corner on a beanbag chair his body was rigid and trembling slightly.

There was a noise, and he jerked, looking up in time to see a shadow slip out of a vernt and land, forming into the tall, slender black and gold form of Katalyn. She blinked and stretched, then looked over.

"Hiding?" she said scornfully.

"And what've you been doing?" he shot back, anger making his face flushed. Kat stared at him, then sniffed and walked out.

"Nothing I'd let you get into, crybaby," she said, going to walk out.

"I'm not a crybaby!" Dick snarled.

"Right. That's not why you destroy everything and run off to hide in corners," she snorted, leaving. Dick glared after her, then settled back and shivered, putting the game down and covering his face.

"I'm not a crybaby," he snarled softly to himself, even as his eyes burned.

anotherbwayne.livejournal.com

Brenda came home from the Nexus, telling the girls to take Ace out and throw the ball for him for awhile and then wheeling wearily toward the elevator. The slight cough she'd wakened with that morning was worse, and her head was ringing slightly as though she had a fever, but she pushed away the symptoms as she rode down to the Cave. The formula that she hoped would restore Kat to her proper age was completed, and she'd finished the initial testing. Trials on adult mice had shown no effect, but trials on mice that had been regressed with the formula that Kat had been exposed to had returned to their proper appearance.

She'd done those tests seven days ago, and the mice continued healthy. So all that was left now was for human testing.

Brenda wheeled into the lab and scrubbed her hands, then removed the container of de-aging compound from the locked cupboard and set it in her lap while she also got the antidote. This done, she wheeled toward a containment room and locked herself inside.

One whiff of the compound had her blinking disorientedly at the change in perspective and a little sick to her stomach, but she steeled herself and injected the antidote straight into a vein.

Perspective changed again, and Brenda managed a smile before her eyes slipped shut and she toppled from the wheelchair.

Current Mood: sick

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Jim shut off his car and slowly got out, stretching before reaching in and grabbing some disks he'd brought from the office. He couldn't wait to see what the Bat computers made of the information he'd brought, not to mention what Brenda herself would think.

Bringing out a small bouquette of her favorite flowers he blinked, then looked at the house nervously before sighing and going up. He really, really hoped the small girl who ran about in the black and gold costume didn't try to trip im down the stairs again.

anotherbwayne.livejournal.com

She'd taken a quick ~~patrol~~ joyride in the Tumbler while Leslie and Alfred's backs were turned, just needing to get out and think after the conversations that she'd had a few days before in the Nexus. Those talks had stirred up memories; made her restless.

So she'd slipped into the new uniform that she'd designed (not too different looking from her first one but sporting several integrated upgrades and robot boots) and come here to her favorite vantage point to brood among the gargoyles as the wind blew her cape to billows around her.

She frowned and pulled it around her, hiding the yellow symbol on her chest despite the fact that she was wearing a cloaker and no one would be able to see it. Her mind went to the child that she'd left curled contentedly in the passenger seat of the Tumbler, and she frowned at how determined her younger twin was to pursue the life of a costumed vigilante. Bree did the workouts she assigned and would often have to be ordered out of the Cave when workout time was over. And Brenda had found her more than once pouring relentlessly over any information that fell into her small hands, be it encyclopedia or information pamphlets that she'd written away for. And the child's little pink notebooks were marvels of organized data.

Brenda shook her head. -I never started that young. And she doesn't even remember her parents.-

The thought made her frown and turn her face to the wind.

Current Mood: contemplative

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Jim Gordon sighed as he pulled up to the Wayne mansion, still reeling over discovering the true identity of the Batwoman.

He stopped the car, then picked up the fresh bundle of carnations he'd picked up on the way back from the late shift, going up to the door and lifting his hand to knock, only to suddenly hear an angry scream and then the sounds of a heated argument coming from inside.

Suddenly an older woman Gordon knew as the poor-treating doctor Leslie opened the door suddenly, looking hassled and inviting him inside. He frowned and entered, then started and bolted for the crashing sound coming from a side room that was the opposite direction from the parlor where he'd been invited.

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Katalyn ran down the street, panting as she hurried, skidding to a halt in a dead end alleyway she froze, then looked back at the pair of thugs coming after her.

Looking around she quickly grabbed an old pipe, holding it up.

"Leave ma alone!" the tiny girl said feircely.

"Oh ho, look at that," one of the thugs snickered, nudging his buddy. "Little girl has a weapon."

"Better be scared," his partner snickered. Then he shook his head, then advancing on her. "Seriously, sweetie, just put the pipe down. We'll make it a lot better for ya if you jsut come without a fuss."

"Like @#%$!" she screeched, lashing out quickly.

The man screamed, toppling over.

"My knee!" he bellowed.

"You little @#%#^," the other man screeched, reaching for her and grabbing the pipe as it swung again.

Katalyn's eyes got huge, and she started to squirm and kick at him, desperately re-reaching for her powers, which were still not working when she needed them to.

anotherbwayne.livejournal.com

Brenda gritted her teeth as she rolled her wheelchair toward the door of the Thomas Wayne Museum of Antiquities, feeling painfully aware of the three dark-haired little girls who clustered around it. Alfred had suggested that she take Kat, Bree, and Clara out to celebrate the lovely day, and she privately wondered what she'd done to tick him off so badly. She'd already seen tabloid stories about how at least one of them was a secret lovechild from some union with this actor or public figure or that, and was sure that this would only add fuel to the fire.

Bree thanked the doorman seriously as he opened the huge carved door, then stepped aside and watched as Brenda rolled inside.

"It's good to see you up, Miss Wayne," said the man respectfully as she passed.

She smiled her socialite smile, eyes dancing with a happiness that she was far from feeling. "Thank you, it's so lovely to be out and about again!"

He touched his cap and smiled, and she faced forward again, wishing that Bree would stop laughing at her. She could read the kid's mind like a book and what it was saying was seriously annoying her.

Come to think of it she understood why Alfred had sent her out today.

Current Mood: aggravated
Current Location: Thomas Wayne Museum of Antiquities

anotherbwayne.livejournal.com

Brenda crutched slowly through the Manor, hearing the sound of Alfred whistling somewhere upstairs and feeling that it added to the sense of unreality she was feeling. It had been three weeks since she'd been kidnapped and dropped in a Lazarus pit by R'as al Ghul; about the same length of time since Clark and Will and Bruce had disappeared. Now here she was, back on her feet and with custody of three small girls; one of which was a younger version of herself.

"Monsieur Alfred sounds happy," came the subdued comment from somewhere by her hip.

"Of course he's happy. It's two in the afternoon and I'm up here being normal," she said dryly.

"I wonder what became of him in my own reality," said Bree wistfully.

Brenda swallowed. "We could try to find out after I'm off Dr. Leslie's invalid list."

"I would like that, thank you."

-So grave and old for her age. I wasn't like that, was I?- "You're welcome."

Current Mood: somber
Current Location: back halls of Wayne Manor
Current Music: softly the Batman theme

detectivebats.livejournal.com

Two days had already passed since Bruce had seen Katalyn, and it was safe to say that he was seriously worried. She should have at least contacted him, let him know she was okay, even if she wanted to be alone. So now he was at her home, not finding any sign of her presence for at least 48 hours. He crouched in the dark little home, pawing through her things, looking for anything, any clues that would give away even the slightest hint to where she could be.

Current Mood: restless

dbattyones.livejournal.com

She sighed as she wandered down the alleyways. This was such a stupid idea, but she didn't like how Leslie kept trying to get her into normal clothes. She liked her costume. So did Bruce, and Superman. And now they'd all left. You close your eyes for two minutes and all the men leave.

Leslie is still back in her office, freaking out. Oh well.

And here was the infamous informant. Short, tired, a little doped up on pain relievers, and trying to track down the Batman before either one of them got into more trouble. Hurrah.

dbattyones.livejournal.com

She smiled, anticipating the moment.

The scientist was fleeing, but Katalyn was in front of him, not behind. He didn't see her because he was focused on the falling shadow of the Batman.

Sticking out her foot from the shadows she smiled, satisfied when he crashed to the alleyway with a yelp.

"You'd think a genius would have some sort of aircraft on his rooftop," she shook her head, muttering as she went to the fallen man as she coughed. "I mean please. Running from a Bat on foot is just stupid."

She reached down and grabbed his gun, trigged her left claw and sliced through it, then chucked it. "Hold still. The Bat's a second away," she laughed softly, golden eyes gleaming as she put a foot on the back of his neck. He made some muffled growl, but she only rolled her eyes, then looked up, grinning.

"Hey. There you are," she said. This was a good night. A very, good night.

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Katalyn watched as a mother and her young child, a tiny girl with golden locks and a dirty nose, made their way down the street, tryin to hurry in the light rain. Nightlife faded in and out of view, shadowing the pair as they hurried to the homeless shelter, unaware of their pursuer.

Suddenly the little girl tripped, and the young mother started, stopped, and tried to help her up.

"Quickly, Macey, quickly," she said. Katalyn understood her fear. It was too late at night in too rough an area for them to stop.

And, as the mother feared, they were caught. Katalyn frowned as a tall, homeless-looking man appeared out of an alley.

"Need some help?" he asked gruffly. The mother and daughter froze.

"N-n-no," the woman said, picking up her child.

"Too bad," the man suddenly sprang forward, grabbing the mother and roughly shoving her against a wall. The woman cried out, but the child screamed louder.

And suddenly two hands grabbed the man around the neck, choking him until he let go. Then Nightlife turned and threw him into a wall, satisfied with the crunch he made and the silence of his form. Then she turned and looked at the mother, who'd snatched her child, staring with wide eyes.

Ready to be robbed. Or killed. That's how it rolled in this town.

"Go," Nightlife said gruffly. "Two blocks down, one to the right. Carry your girl, the way is clear for at leave twenty minutes."

The woman stared, and Nightlife jerked her head.

"Go," she said. The woman turned and started running, and Nightlife watched, staring into the little girl's eyes as she was born away by a loving but hard struck mother.

She sighed, then looked at the lump.

"I outta gut you," she spat at him. He moaned, but didn't wake up.

detectivebats.livejournal.com

( Happy Birthday, Bruce. )

Current Mood: exhausted
Current Location: The Alley
Current Music: Of the night

dbattyones.livejournal.com

Katalyn crouch on a rooftop, listening to the drug dealers below her, trading drugs, money, and tips about where the good cops and bad cops were, who was looking for a sale, and rumors of the Bats, the druglords, and the vigilantees. Every word they said confirmed the watcher's information, and she wondered when she'd learn to stop paying so much for the information she could collect for free right here.

But, as always, she reminded herself why. It was imperative that her information always be confirmed. She'd been caught with bad sources before, and to trust one never lead to a good situation.

Moving away from the edge she turned, and melted into the shadows. A while later she reformed on the top of Gotham's tallest building. There was no Bat here, but she shrugged, then looked around.

There was a rooftop with shrinking vines on it. Poison Ivy had been there. In back of her there were the remnents of the gangs she'd sent Batman after, struggling to reform and keep up thier bloody war. Then there were the average number of sirens, flashing lights, and fleeing crooks from other directions.

No sign of the Joker. Rumor had it Ivy had pulled him from a bad spot. He'd lie low a few days, licking his wounds, concosting his next scheme. Hardly a chance of finding him, so Katalyn wouldn't try yet.

For now she sat, playing with a knife she'd liberated from an old timer, picking on a young kid. A boy. The kid had been bugging him, sure, but still. She hadn't tried to keep it quiet. Katalyn never worried too much about being caught. She always liked meeting new informants, and those usually came about whenever a fuss was made.

Current Mood: contemplative
Current Location: The top of Gotham
Current Music: The sirens

detectivebats.livejournal.com

He had just come back from patrolling his Gotham, and well...here was another that needed it. He was curious to how Batwoman was faring, but he knew that the place needed more than a bit of guidance at the moment. Batman had heard the rumors of many a vigilante running about, and he groaned with the very thought of it. Leave Gotham alone for two seconds and all these types spawn out of it. The talk with Gordon was a little odd, to be sure, but it wasn't his Gordon. Ugh.

Batman swung across the familiar neighborhoods, seeing minor differences but it was familiar enough for him to handle it easily, and soon the criminals were getting the message that despite Batwoman's absence, they did not have a free reign.

But not enough criminals. There was probably a good month's work to be done to keep everyone in line. It was pretty busy out there.

Perched atop an apartment building where he just foiled three (yes, three) robberies in that one building, the dark knight actually wished for morning this time. Get his bearings, get a chance to take a moment to think. Think about the situation he was in now, and how to get back. Morning was still a couple of hours away. It had been a long day, especially that whole debacule with the apperance of Bree.

Current Mood: busy

-madmartigan.livejournal.com

A brave new world it was indeed. The future. It was hard to think of, but it was true and he was there.

Madmartigan had finally gotten a foothold in this place. Wandering the streets for a few nights and getting into plenty of fights only proved one vital fact--these people had no idea how to react against a swordsman. The guns-that's what those magical black exploding things were called--were the only thing he could not stand up against, and in fact had gotten a couple of sideswiped shots nicking his leg and arm. He had managed to figure out how to use the money he had gotten from last time and procured a seedy apartment in a seedier part of town. Okay, so money had worked pretty much the same way here. By watching the enchanted box--television--he had slowly learned about this world. Of course daytime TV was not the best place to learn about this world, either...

Despite the differences, the elements were the same. There were poor and rich, thieves and brigands, despots and dictators. There were fair maidens that begged to be rescued and warrior women that enjoyed a fight. Madmartigan slowly realized that he could make money by being a vigilante, by foiling the oddly many attempts on people's money and banks.

And that's where he was now, foiling a bank robbery in some rather rich part of town, a small domino mask on his face. He wore slightly medeval-ish brown, green, and leather clothes, but they had a modern twist. (Actually now he was up to wearing modern clothes). It was late afternoon but the sun still shone brightly upon the gothic buildings. He pointed his magnificent sword at the cowling thug's face, holding the money in a sack in his hand, intending to keep it as payment for the foiling of the robbery.

"And that, my friend, is why they call me the greatest swordsman in the world."

_robin_3:

That's when I chose to make my entrance in this version of Gotham, having been directed to it by my mentor/adopted father. As silent as a pin I dropped from my previous position on top of a building and landed right behind the masked individual with a sword in his hand. I'd watched him foil the bank robbery but took notice that his exit wasn't in the direction of the aforementioned bank.

"You are planning on returning that bag of loot, right? Or are you a different Robin Hood for this century-steal from the rich, keep for yourself without caring for the poor?"

_madmartigan:

The sound of a youthful voice caught his attention, and he turned around almost lazily. He twirled his sword around in that same lazy manner, though it consisted of quick, graceful movements all in the wrist.

"Oh, don't tell me you wanted in on this too? Look kid, if you're hungry you can bring the rest of those brigands in to those guards and I'll give you 10 %, okay?" He grinned roguishly. "And I think that it's more like--I'm poor, so I can take from the rich?" He had watched a Robin Hood movie that week and understood the reference.

Current Mood: busy

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Brenda Wayne-Gordon's Gotham

Entries tagged with nightlife

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