Batman and the Copycat (TOT x X-vash00)

[Touch Of Temperament]

Batman and the Copycat.


Sophie slipped into the tight suit in the changing rooms at the back of the bar. The suit was entirely black , encasing her from ankle to neck when the zipper was up. The look was completed by high heeled boots and of course, the cowl. Her long black hair was twisted up and pinned to her head underneath the cowl, with black eyeliner around her blue eyes. Loud music and commotion from the bar itself was muffled by the closed door, but only made her feel more uncomfortable. She still needed the money, but that was, as it had always been, the only reason she was there. Already her thoughts were hours away, after she’d danced for the customers, earned the tips they’d push into the suit where she had slid the zipper down. And if they wouldn’t behave, she might just seek them out, after. And so she went through the motions. When the bar closed, she lingered until all the other girls had left. Then Batgirl would slip outside.

These nights she’d go after them with a kitchen knife and a long whip. She was not a great fighter yet, although she was taking classes in martial arts. The whip however was a prop from an earlier act she’d done at the bar, she’d gotten quite handy with that. Sophie still felt a little nervous as she stepped out. She picked her targets at work, perverts, thieves, muggers.

Yet her heart raced in excitement when she found that guy she’d been looking for tonight. This particular lowlife had been harassing Sammy at the bar, going as far as hitting the dancer when she told him off. Sammy was a friend, a colleague. This guy needed to be taught a lesson. Her luck was up as he was just going to pee. With a quick flick of her wrist the end of the long whip struck at the back of his head. He yelped, hands going up to his hurting head in a reflex, leaving the man in a rather embarrassing position with his dick hanging out. “That’s what you get for hitting women.” Sophie spoke in the most angry tone she could muster. Another flick of the wrist and the whip cracked in the air, making the man flinch. “Don’t let me catch you at it again.” It was enough to get him to scurry away, one hand on his jeans, on his head. She bit the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling as an idiot. Doing this, especially when it went well, made her proud of herself. That in itself had been pretty rare before.

 

[X-Vash00]

Night. Night was the time where things othe than daylight changed. The atmosphere changed, and the people changed. Many of those people would changed from some ordinary citizen in to a criminal, but for Bruce Wayne it was changing from a billionare, playboy, philanthropist into the dark and brooding vigilante named Batman. Was it always the choice that Bruce made? The answer would be no. While the tragic deaths of his parents weighed heavily enough on his mind to drive him to become a vigilante, his first time out wasn't the best. He busted some muggers in a leather jacket and ski mask, but the criminals did not fear him. They mocked him first and continued their mocking until he knocked them unconscious from his superior fighting skills. After that night he knew that they would. It fear him as he was. That was when the idea of the cape and cowl came to be. He brushed it off immediatley thinking that it was ridiculous and focused more on his love life and trying to move past the obsessions of his youth. Then he watched as the city decayed further without his help. More and more reports of crime filled the news stations and Bruce could take no more. After that the cape and cowl was domed and Batman began...

A few years had passed and he had grown in popularity as people lept at the chnance to verbalized their opinions on him. Some claimed he was some urban myth that was started by some punks, but it was proven wrong as a photo was taken of his thwarting a bank robbery and people certainly believed..

As his popularity grew many people began to copy him by taking to the streets and trying to do what he did. For instance this one woman who Bruce was surveying at the moment. While he was out on patrol he decided to check to make sure that none of the copycats were out tonight. GCPD reports placed one of the copycats operating in this area so he decided to take a look. He was observing the strip club as it was a cest pool where the lowest of the low gathered for viewing pleasure.

One stepped out to relieve himself but only met with the few cracks of a whip and he was running back inside. He caught the flash of black and silver and moved in after the creep was gone. He glided off of the building in front of the club and landed infront of her. He stood up and formed a menacing brood on his face, his mouth and body language as much. "What do you think you're doing?"

 

[Touch Of Temperament]

Sophie was almost humming with her small triumph of the night. She tried to calm herself down, surely Batman himself would never act like this. Shaking her head, she coiled up the whip. There was promise in the night, she'd get better and stronger, bring about real change in this city. The whip was attached to a belt on the suit and she spun on her heels to leave.

Seemingly out of nowhere he appeared in front of her, landing on the street. Her blue eyes widened and she just stared at him as he straightened up. "It's you." She breathed softly. He was huge, taller and broader than she'd even pictured him. The newspapers for once had not exagerated anything. His suit emphasized his physique and he looked dangerous. Definitely the type to inspire fear in the hearts of the worst criminals. She admired him, this man had been her inspiration. She strove to be like him, if only the feminine version.

But in his expression she read nothing positive, he was obviously not impressed by what he saw. Sophie swallowed, but refused to look away or even step back.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Her mind raced, how to respond to this. She never expected this question, she didn't want to defend this choice. "I'm helping.." She finally said, biting her lip again softly. Quickly she added. "I know I'm not very good at it yet, but.." It sounded pathetic to say she was taking classes, or anything else that popped in her mind for that matter. "I'm getting better."

Then she knew what to say, new confidence infusing her posture. "It's not enough, you know." She gestured at him. "You can't get at all of them by yourself, there's too many of them in this city. So I like to help."

 

[X-Vash00]

Helping? She really thought that she was helping him right now. His eyes narrowe, the white eyepieces narrowing with them, as he stared daggers at her. "I don't need help, especially some untrained and undisciplined wanna-be." His words were as sharp and harsh as steel. He was doing so to keep her safe, especially if she was planning on moving higher in the food chain of the underworld. He looked her over again and just shook his head. "You think that it you throw on some silver and black spandex that you're on the same ground as me? I've already had to deal with a group of men in hockey pads and shotguns last night. Go home."

He then grabbed his grapnel from his utility belt and zipped off to find his real target of the night. There were reports coming in from Gotham, Star City, Coast City, and Metropolis regarding a string of murders. The only thing connecting them was the way that they were murdered. All were found with a large hole in their forehead. Ballistics report says that no bullet could cause that large of a hole without an even larger exit wound, and there was no exit wound. It was an interesting case and Bruce was determined to solve it.

 

[Touch Of Temperament]

Her words didn't impress him either. It was all she could do at that moment to hold his harsh gaze. Stubborn enough not to back away from him, but sensible enough to keep quiet. His words were equally harsh and cut at her confidence like razorblades. She stiffened at them. Hurt, anger and frustration rose in the pit of her stomach, but she just pursed her lips, chewing on the inside of her cheek.

There was no time to argue with him, as he used his grapnel, disappearing into the night in a far more spectular way than she could. Sophie released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Who did he think he was, telling her off like that. He didn't have a certain exclusive priviledge to what he was doing.

If anything, she had endure the seedy element of this city every night, and she was sick of it. She wasn't going to submit to that, when she didn't have to.

There was truth to his words, she was no where near to being on the same ground as him, which is why they stung. So she did decide to go home that night. Angry, but undeterred.