The First Night Is Always the Hardest (Open)

[BARBARA GORDON]

Gotham City.

That was the place that had become her home for the last few weeks, ever since the death of her parents had caused her to be shoved into the hands of Police Comissioner James Gordon, her paternal uncle and the only person who was willing to take care of the poor girl. She had been terrified of having to come and live in a place such as Gotham City, but there had been no choice in the matter. She had been young enough to just take everything as it came to her, an orphan who was handed to her uncle as if she was simply a piece of property and not a true human being that had feelings and needs.

But she had slowly adjusted to living in Gotham City, even after the departure of her Aunt and Cousin from her life, becoming so greatful to Gordon for adopting and caring for her that she had eventually brought herself to call him "Dad" after the trama that nearly claimed her life. And part of that life she owed to Batman. He had been there that night, had helped to save her from the men who had kidnapped her and attempted to hold her for ransom against Gotham's Police Comissioner. Without him, there was no doubt in her mind that she would have been killed without a second thought and never have saved Bruce Wayne that night at the masquarade, not that he really cared.

But this was different from any other night she had spent on the rooftop of the home she shared with her father, despite the sirens and the crashing of cans and pots as voices rose to angered levels. Tonight, she was wearing the costume that she had finally pulled from the box underneath her bed, fashioned in the last few weeks since the incident with Killer Moth at the party. The bright yellow insignia of the bat sat across her chest, standing out against the black spandex material that covered the rest of her body from the winds of the night that began to blow over the city. Her dark eyes closed for a moment as she listened, drinking in the sounds and smell of the city without interruption.

And when the scream sounded, her eyes flew open from behind the mask she had created specificially for her face, hair tucked back into the hooded cowl that had also been modelled after the costume of the Batman. One heeled boot rose to the half-wall in front of her, and with all of her weight she pushed off to fly over the edge of the roof, falling in a dive down toward the city street below. In a split second, her hands had grabbed ahold of the street light, twirling around it like the bar in the same manner that a gymnast would before she released it and flew toward the alleyway from where she had heard the scream. "No, no!" the woman cried as she was backed into the darkness by about five or six men, all of whom watched her with that lusty look fresh in their eyes.

"I believe the lady said no," came Barbara's voice, which caused the men to turn toward her. Clearly, none of them were pleased with being interrupted by a smaller version of the masked vigilante, and they all turned to approach her instead with that look of utter loathing in their eyes. Clearly, they each intended to take care of her before they went back to their intended victim.

Perfect.

[SELINA KYLE]

Every night cruelty engulfed Gotham.  Crime littered its streets.  Murder. Theft. Rape. Extortion. Bribery.  Night after night, crime controlled the way that city operated.   The politicians in that city were foolish if they thought it was improving.  Gotham was at a breaking point; she saw it and she was sure she wasn't the only one.  But what was she doing - preventing it, or adding to it? 

Selina Kyle wasn't a hero.  No. Her objective was to get the hell out of that city; but unfortunately that was easier said than done.  She had a juvenile record that followed her, and a skill set that wasn't very 'standard'.  She needed crime to survive; just like hundreds of men and women that inhabited Old Gotham and the East End.  But her crimes were different, at least that's what she told her self.  Her crimes just put food on her table; her crimes never impacted the innocents that city destroyed.  


Innocents like the women below.  The Cat was on her way home when she heard that blood curling scream.  "Walk away" she told herself.  She was done for the evening, and this wasn't her business.  But wasn't it?  Those streets were her home, those streets raised her, and she was sick and tired of the way those streets destroyed lives.  Not everyone was as strong as her; not everyone could make it on their own.  A deep breathe escaped her lips as she turned on her heel, swearing as she realized walking away was easier said than done.  She wouldn't leave it on her shoulders that some innocent women died at the hands of over-zealous men.  But as she walked to the edge of the rooftop, the scene below had evolved. 


There was a girl dressed like a Bat.  Creative.  He never seemed like the sidekick type, was she on her own?  A million questions flooded the woman's mind, and she found herself watching out of sheer curiosity.  Honestly, she thought the odds were stacked against the teen.  Six to one... even though the men were senseless thugs, those odds weren't very good.  A little voice played devils advocate in her mind.  It told her to walk away.  Reinforced that it wasn't her business.  But unfortunately cats are curious creatures, and Selina already had a million questions in her mind.  Besides, it looked like there was still a very good chance the original victim wouldn't walk away from this.


Alright.  She had made her choice, and slipped down the fire escape, lingering in the shadows.  "Hey boys," she purred as she walked out of the shadows, an alluring tone to her voice.  A seductive grin lingered on her lips as she walked towards them.  The woman controlled every one of her movements, walking at a steady base her hips swaying with every step. "Can I play too?" 

"What the hell, all the freaks are out tonight." one of the men muttered glancing over at Selina. 


"Hey I've heard of this one.." another commented turning his attention to the woman.  A grin was plastered on the man's lips as he walked towards her, pulling a switch blade out of his pocket.  "Arn't you supposed to be on our side, run along kitty." 


"Now here's where you're wrong sweetheart.  I play on my own side." At her words, he flicked the blade, and she reacted almost instantly.  It was is everything moved in slow motion in her mind, her brain processing every movement.  Her knee kicked into his stomach, and he lurched forward, her fist colliding with the pressure point on his neck, and the man dropped like a sack of bricks.  "I should mention," she commented dark eyes looking at the men, that alluring grin refusing to fade from her lips. "I like to play rough."

[BARBARA GORDON]

Barbara could see that they were eyeing her to attempt to get a feel for the strange girl who had dropped from a nearby rooftop and put herself in harm's way. Most would likely disregard her as a threat for her stature, spotting the figure of a girl lurking beneath the spandex costume of black and yellow. But that was to be her greatest asset, she reminded herself as her eyes drifted between the men who stood around her with vicious sneers upon their faces. They would already think that they had won this little encounter, and that meant that they would be completely off-guard for the moment that Batgirl struck.

But in true Gotham City fashion, another figure lurking nearby decided to become involved at that very moment and interrupt the stillness that had fallen between Barbara and the men who sought to get at the poor girl who still quivered behind her. This time however, it wasn't the appearance of the Batman who caused a stir, but another female who held herself with much more grace than Barbara did in her home-made costume. And this woman was clearly known to the men, for once they took in her presence they seemed to recognize that the much whispered about "Catwoman" had decided to become involved in their little situation.

Though which side she stood on remained to be seen.

A short conversation between this new intruder and the thugs revealed that she wasn't at all interested in helping them to get to their prey...and one man was rather quick to find out just how much "kitty" wanted to play. With that single action of violence the fighting was on and all of the other men shot forward at the two of them. "Run!" Barbara called back to the girl, hoping that she would have enough of her wits about her to get out of the alleyway and to a much safer location than she was currently sitting. One word was all it took, and the girl shot out. But not before one of the men saw her move and reached to grab her, which prompted Barbara to quickly lift her right leg and kick out as hard as she could at his elbow in the hopes of breaking it. As much as she hated violence, she wasn't opposed to showing a little force when necessary.

Now angered by the obvious pain in his arm, the man turned to Barbara with wide-eyes that could easily have been a shade of red in his anger. The attack her threw in her direction was almost blinded by the raw emotion, his other hand raising in a fist that she ducked beneath to bring down her hand in a chopping motion against his neck. It took only a moment for him to sprawl out on the cold pavement, unconscious from the impact of so many blows.

One down...the rest to go.

[SELINA KYLE]

The moment that man dropped to the ground, she could hear Lola's voice ranting in the back of her mind.  Lola was one of the few people who's opinion Selina remotely cared about.  Lola had been in her life since she was a kid.  She taught her how those streets worked, and she was by far the best and most reliable fencer the thief used.  She was also the only fencer who knew her inside and out.  Their relationship was more than professional.  Lola was probably one of the few people out there that gave a damn whether or not Selina managed to get herself killed.   When Selina came up with the idea of the Cat, the woman had concerns, but she saw the value in a mask.  But, it was discussed that the mask was there to give Selina the upper hand in a heist; not when she decided to play hero.  


She wanted to roll her eyes at the thought of that comment.  The last thing she was doing in that moment was playing hero.  Those streets... they raised her.  Those streets were the only home she ever knew.  And like any good feline, she had a right to 'protect' her territory.  She knew in the bottom of her heart that there was no way she could walk away without feeling guilty.   The truth of the matter was, she knew what that girl was feeling.  That sense of hopelessness and terror; that feeling that there was no way out.   When she saw that girl surrounded by the group of men she saw herself.  She saw Holly.  She saw dozens of girls who were victimized by the cruelty of Gotham.  Even if there was some kid trying to save the day, she couldn't walk away.  


As much as she knew the importance of staying on 'neutral ground' she was tired of the fact that this situation was  normal in Gotham.  It was pathetic.  And it rarely made the news.  People rarely even cared.  That was the problem with Gotham: there was a twisted social order driven by an economic divide.  Those on the bottom of the social totem pole suffered, while those at the top turned a blind eye to the world below them.  The political system couldn't help those of Old Gotham, so for one night, she'd ignore Lola's voice telling her to 'stay out of it' and make sure there was one less broken girl on the streets of Gotham.  Sure, the Bat Kid was there first, but Selina wasn't the type to have faith in a teenager in the equivalent of a make shift Halloween costume. 

The men's reaction was almost too predictable.  It was as if it was a scripted cue.   Did they really think they stood a chance?  Men and their testosterone... they'd never learn.  A smirk danced on the woman's lips as she watched the men running towards her.  She barely even flinched as body relaxed, her muscles anticipating the moves that would follow.  Her fingers flicked, signaling to extend the retractable claws in her glove.  A soft swear emitted her lips as the blades jammed, the gloves had been a work in progress.  She thought the idea was brilliant, sadly, there were still a few kinks she had to sort out.  So her mind skipped to plan B: her first victim's switch blade.  One man got to her fist, swinging his fist like a fool.  As he swung, she crouched down her hand grasping quickly onto the blade, as she moved up, she stabbed the knife into the man's thigh.  As he let out a scream of pain, her attention shifted quickly to the other man. "You keeping up over there sweetheart?" She asked Batgirl, her voice oddly calm for someone in her current situation.  As she spoke, the man attempted to take her from behind, his arm wrapping around her neck.  Did he really think she wouldn't expect that.  She stepped backwards into him, slamming her elbow into his stomach.  He lurched forward in pain, and as he did that.  She turned on her heel, slamming her knee into his nose. A yelp of pain escaped his lips, and before he had a chance to react, the edge of her hand slammed into the pressure point on his neck and his body dropped to the ground like a sack a bricks.  That was two for her... well, two and a half technically.  


She turned back to her previous opponent who had been struggling to pull the knife out of his leg.  That was his best idea?  Idiots like this were giving criminals in Gotham a bad reputation.  "Honey, that blade's the least of your worries." she purred, a hard kick driving into his chest.  The man dropped back falling to the ground.  He whimpered pathetically, struggling to get to his feet before he abandoned ship and sprinted down the alley away from the unexpected chaos.  "Coward." Selina muttered to herself, having no intentions of chasing after him.