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boy_wonder87 ([info]boy_wonder87) wrote in [info]dc_heroes,
@ 2010-12-16 00:48:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:batman, nightwing

A cold night wind whipped through the wind-tunnel of Gotham's streets, threatening to tear Nightwing from his perch between two gargoyles. His practised gymnast's grip on the ledge below held him firm, fingers hard and calloused by years of training, his forearms knotted like thick ropes on some ancient sailing ship.

Below him stretched West Brewery Street- a favourite haunt of his during days as Robin. The neighbourhood had been dangerous and seedy, which seemed a requirement for any part of Gotham, but underneath Dick had found a neighbourhood with wonderful characters, friendships, and sense of community. It had become a kind of haven for the wayward, the strange, the weird, and the broken denizens of Gotham's underworld. The people of West Brewery Street had not been saints- more than a few were murderers and worse- but they found a certain stoic pride in their home, and did what they could to contribute to it. Many of Dick's preconceptions about street life had been turned on their head, and his concept of right and wrong had been blurred. The street kids and hookers, the bottom-rung dealers and homeless veterans, the mentally ill and scarred products of abusive homes; they all called the West Brewery home, and they had all taught the young Boy Wonder lessons he would never forget.

Now West Brewery was unrecognizable- gentrified in the years since Dick had left. Its streets once dank and clogged with broken syringes and human detritus, were now brightly lit boulevards around massive condo buildings, patrolled by private security companies rather than police. The young and wealthy now called the area home. The streets were clogged with coffee houses and tapas bars, sushi restaurants, nightclubs and social clubs and health clubs.

It was an outcome that Batman had foreseen in his projections for the future of his city. Not a goal, but a foreseeable outcome of his work.

So now we can stamp this part of the map and say "Mission Accomplished!" and move on he thought bitterly. He wondered what had happened to the people who had lived here. He doubted any of them lived in these condominiums or worked at the high-priced bars and restaurants lining the street. We've just forced them back into another part of town. And then we'll take that back and they'll have to move again. Until we force them into the smallest corner possible, where there won't be anywhere to hide from monsters like the Falconis or Black Mask or Penguin. And while they kill each other over the scraps we've left them, we'll pat ourselves on the back and say how proud we are.

Dick had gradually become aware that his internal voice was beginning to sound more like Bruce all the time- at least in tone, if not in content. It had been one of their points of contention- Bruce continuing to see it as a war, a "never-ending-battle", while Dick would have rather spent his time trying the help the people on the bottom who were merely cannon fodder for the Police Chiefs and Politicians and Crime Families, as they fought their perpetual turf wars.

The car Dick had been waiting for turned the corner and started down West Brewery Street. Dick was pleased, but the nature of the night's work didn't allow him to smile. The black SUV made its way through traffic, and Dick pressed his micro-binoculars to his eyes. Standard plates, no official markings- but windows tinted a shade so dark only government cars could get away with. Its the little things. Dick thought, as he leaped into the gaping emptiness of an alleyway. He let himself fall for four stories, before he angled into a fire escape, catching a steel ladder at it's last rung and flipping into a graceful dive. He danced his way across the girders and drain pipes, a creature entirely in his element.

Nightwing's pace matched the car below as it drove toward the tallest of the buildings, a golden monument to excess. His movements were aggressive to the point of folly. A select few flirted with danger, but Dick Grayson made her his lover.

His athleticism was unmatched. His judgement was not. He was the prodigal son. And he had returned.

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2010-12-17 01:08 am UTC (link)
Batman watched the same vehicle as well, following it closely as he ran across the rooftops on the opposite side of the street. Batman was well aware that someone else was keeping an eye on this vehicle, but until he moved just so, diving from the rooftop and executing that flip, Batman couldn't be sure of who it was.

Now that he knew, he followed Nightwing just as much as he was following the vehicle.

He wondered what Dick could be working on that brought him back to Gotham, but the time for questions would come soon. His first priority was to find out who in the Government was supplying weapons to gangsters in Gotham; everything else, even Dick's reasoning for being here, was secondary.

He became one with the shadows, turning a corner, then firing off a line to swing through the air and keep pace with his quarries.

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2010-12-22 11:06 pm UTC (link)

Breath shuddered through Dick's body as tumbled along web of fire-escapes clinging to the apartment block. Black wrought iron bars jutted out all around him, bending and joining into shapes that would slow a wiser man, or cripple one possessing less skill. But Dick had been born and bred for this. Moving at incredible speed, he leaped from one escape to another, his feet barely touching the railing before he somersaulted forward. His arms smacked the iron floor of the fire escape precisely as the flat of his back did, absorbing the impact expertly, as he slid forward with his substantial momentum. He slid forward like a bobsledder, and made through an impossibly space between the iron railings. His body tumbled forward, spinning in a somersault that threatened to never end.

But it did. His hands found a jutting steel flagpole that flexed with his weight, but held firm. He swung back and forth a moment before pulling himself up to a crouched position, looking down on the street below. The large intersection of 4th and Lovecraft allowed him clear view of the SUV, as it pulled into the gated parking garage of a towering apartment block directly across from Nightwing.

He slowly reached into his belt, careful not to disturb his precarious position, and pulled out a small digital visor. Cutting ties with Batman had included rejecting any financial assistance, but Dick maintained a cordial relationship with Lucius Fox, who had inadvertently become Q to many of the Bat -Family over the years. Dick had managed to afford a handful of high-tech staples with his family's inheritance, this being among them. Lucius called it the “Nightvisor”. Dick loved it.

He pulled the Nightvisor over his eyes, pulling the elastic band securely behind his ears. Immediately, augmented reality programs took over as he looked at the building below. A wireframe model of the architectural blueprints overlaid the actual structure, active smartphones were pinpointed via their internal GPS devices, giving him a read on most of the people within. He singled out the one he was looking for- Trent Darby, Colonel, US Army. Currently entering the private freight elevator with four other men. A small datapoint told Dick security code for roof access had been entered into the elevator.

“Going up.” Dick said, immediately deciding the best route to ascend 37 stories in 3 minutes. He winked with his left eye- immediately plotting a digital waypoint into the 4th floor apartment balcony he was looking at. The Nightvisor suggested riding a zipline across the intersection, an easy and efficient way to cover the distance.

And boring as hell Nightwing thought, springing forward. He reached onto the back of his belt, pulling out a pair of small silver grapple guns. The intersection was large, and there was nothing close enough for Nightwing to swing from like he normally might, not if he wanted to continue forward in a straight line. His leap had carried him almost 5 meters forward, when he extended his arms out level to both sides, and fired. Grapnel lines exploded across the intersection, striking opposing buildings with their pitons. Dick continued to descend, but as the lines grew taught, he swung forward like a great pendulum, his feet just missing the top of a car as he hit his lowest point, just over the centre of the intersection. His arms felt like they were about to be ripped from their sockets, but he held firm, carried forward and upward by his momentum. He was slowing, reaching the peak of his swing, and so he pulled the trigger of the two guns again- cutting their lines. He flipped forward once, having anticipated perfectly, and landed lightly on the balcony of the 4th floor apartment building.

He raised his arms like a gymnast at the Olympics, grinning. “9.3” he whispered, as he stole into the empty apartment. Beyond, he would be just in time to catch his ride on the roof of the elevator, as it made its way to the roof- where the Meet was about to go down...

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2010-12-24 01:48 am UTC (link)
Batman is silently appreciative of Dick's new moves; if he hadn't know the man for so long, Batman might have found it nearly impossible to keep up with him.

As it was, Batman had to move a bit faster to keep Nightwing in sight, until he disappeared inside the of the apartment building. Batman considered following him in, but thought better of it. He knows that particular building is a favorite meeting spot of low-level thugs and gangsters, but he's busted up so many meetings there that it would be foolish for them to do it here.

Instead, Batman heads to the rooftop...and finds a meeting about to start. He melts into the shadows and waits to see if this where Nightwing is going or if he'll have to handle this himself.

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2010-12-29 04:54 am UTC (link)
Nightwing found himself a good vantage point to watch the meet from. The roof was fairly barren except for the silver air-conditioning units spread out at even intervals across the rooftop.

Dick crouched in the shadow of one of these now, pulling equipment from his belt silently. A device the size and shape of an iPhone, and flexible tripod he wrapped around a solid piece of pipe. He fiddled with the equipment silently, his attention never leaving the two groups of men on the rooftop.

Apparently done with his preparations, Nightwing inched his way to a better position. It was painstakingly slow, but he knew better than to rush himself. Finally, he was within earshot, albeit less than two meters from one of the armed guards.

Colonel Darby stood with his four guards, all clad in matching black trenchcoats. The guards clustered around Darby, each man delegated a field-of-fire which was his to monitor. Rifle butts protruded from under their coats, slung to allow instant functionality should the need arise.

Standard close-protection training at the least, have to see them in action to get a better read on their skillset.

Across from Darby stood six men. They wore dark jackets and workmen's coveralls, the kind of attire you might expect from mafia thugs- which these were. They were armed with an assortment of weapons, shotguns, pistols and the like.

He caught the Colonel as he finished berating the lead mafioso.

"-nd let me assure you, my men do more than kill fat old men in restaurants for a living. There is a difference between assassins and warriors, son. I brought the latter." The Colonel's voice was hard edged and level. He wasn't angry, merely supremely confident.
Not exactly surprising, considering how much of this guy's Agency files were redacted...

"Now did you want to see my merchandise, or have a shootout at 2 in the morning on an abandoned rooftop?" the Colonel asked. He waved one of his men forward, and the man stepped slowly toward the other group, pulling something out of his jacket and handing it to the lead Mafioso.

Nightwing watched intently, trying in vain to figure out what it was. The Mafioso held it up in front of his face, and a pair of glowing red dots suddenly sprang to life in front of his eyes. Eyes which happened, by sheer coincidence, to be aimed directly at where Dick was hiding. Thermal optics! They're trading goddam- Dick didn't even have time to finish his thought, as the Mafioso immediately pointed at him, starting to yell.

"Merry Christmas dirtbags!" Nightwing yelled, throwing a pair of flash grenades into the air as he sprang forward.

He was just glad Bruce wasn't around to see this...

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2010-12-31 01:02 am UTC (link)
Batman does not immediately spring into action for two reasons: first, he wants to see if Nightwing has been keeping up on his training in Bludhaven, so something like this shouldn't be an issue for him. Dick has always been a performer at heart. Where Bruce would have simply moved in and taken down the attackers without words, Dick leaps into the fray with witty banter, acrobatics and a mercurial joy that has nothing to do with Batman's teachings.

The second reason that he doesn't move into action immediately is that he's looking for a better vantage point from which to make his own attack.

Nightwing is easily handling these thugs despite their initial notice of his presence, but his back is turned when the Colonoel himself reaches into his coat and produces a handgun. The Desert Eagle gleams slightly in the darkness as the Colonel looks down his sights at the former Boy Wonder, readying himself for what will be a lethal shot.

Or, he would have been, had a bat-shaped shuriken not embedded itself in his hand first, throwing off his aim and causing him to drop the gun.

The Colonel's head snaps in the direction the shuriken came from and finds none other than Batman staring back at him.

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod..." is all the man can say before breaking into a run toward the access door to go back into the building, still clutching his hand.

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2011-01-11 05:11 am UTC (link)
It was the distinctive [i]ting![/i] of the batarang that told Dick that the worst case scenario had in fact occurred.

[i]Bruce is here[/i]

Nightwing closed his eyes while the flashbangs exploded, sending a distinctive ringing in his ears. Luckily, he wouldn't be needing them for the next few minutes.

Two carbon-fiber fighting sticks were in his hands instantly, and then he was among his enemies.

Tang! Tang! Tang! The the sound of hollow ringing filled the air as he struck with precision and grace. He ducked a kick and balanced on single hand, his legs twirling in the air as he kicked two men in the face at once. He bounced back up onto his feet, smacking a rifle to the ground and cracking it's wielder's nose a second later. A pair of men were charging at the left. Nightwing ran up the edge of an air-conditioning unit bigger than he was, and leaped into the air. He summersaulted forward, planting a foot square in the chest of each of the attackers- driving them into the ground like a freight train.

Intuition told him to duck, and Dick heard gunshots seconds later. Rolling right, he ducked behind another air-conditioning unit. He hesitated a moment, searching back through his memory of the fight. He spun out into the open- flinging his two fighting sticks without even looking at the intended targets. He didn't need to. He knew precisely where the men were.

Two final metal thwacks let Dick know the fight was over. Around him lay the bodies of bruised and broken men. And somewhere nearby, was Batman..

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2011-01-13 02:16 am UTC (link)
Batman knows that Nightwing can handle the rest of the trash. The Running Man is the one he's more interested in. Without another world, Batman steps to the edge of the rooftop and leaps over, falling toward the concrete at an alarming rate.

Expaning his cape, he catches a draft and slows his descent enough to land on the concrete in the shadows, nearest the entrance of the building. The guest of honor should be arriving any moment now.

Less than a minute later, the Running Man bursts from the door screaming at his driver to take off, the shuriken still embedded in his hand. Batman reaches out and grabs him by the collar, tossing him down to the concrete.

"You're not going anywhere." he growls. A familiar tickle crawls up his spine and Batman's fist rises up near the side of his head to connect with the face of the goon who thought he was sneaking up on Batman. He never takes his eyes of of Running Man.

The man drops to the ground with a thud and Batman moves forward as if the interruption had never occurred.

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2011-01-26 09:35 am UTC (link)
Nightwing moved to secure all of the men, plasticuffing them to secure anchors. He piled all of the weapons in the corner and made sure the roof was secure until police arrived.

He found himself wasting time trying to delay the inevitable- but it came to a point he couldn't wait any longer.

Nightwing ran to the edge of the rooftop, and fired an anchor-piton into the concrete. He swan-dived off the building, falling ten stories before the line tightened against his belt harness and began to slow his descent. He exhaled as the pressure built against his waist and was distributed over his chest harness. The concrete sidewalk came toward him and he spun backward landing on the sidewalk lightly.

He cut the line and followed Batman to the alley where he had cornered his suspect. Dick crossed his arms, a sliver of light illuminating his features as he watched his old mentor at work.

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2011-01-30 04:17 am UTC (link)
When Nightwing arrives, Batman takes a tack unseen by the former Boy Wonder in all of their history together. He steps back, turning only his head in Nightwing's direction.

"This is your perp, Nightwing. I suppose you have questions for him." Batman says. It's not a question.

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2011-02-02 09:58 am UTC (link)
Nightwing closed in, on the perp. He considered a moment "Look Colonel, we both know the score here. I've been on your tail the past three weeks." He twirled one of his fighting sticks, bringing it up under the Colonel's chin expertly- narrowly stopping himself before he breaks the man's jaw. "Where the hell do you get off selling this kind of harware to scum the Scarlotti's? What's you're angle?"

The Colonel's eyes narrow and he shifts his gaze from Nightwing to Batman. "Why don't you ask your boss."

Nightwing shoved the man back against the wall, coming between he and Batman. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" he yelled angrily, cracking a brick above the Colonel's head. The Colonel winced away from the strike. "You cowboys think you can just run around and we're not goin to see what you're up to?! That we're not going to take steps?" He eyed Nightwing indignantly. "You may have gotten me. But I'm just the first. Uncle Sam isn't content to let you freaks treat this City like your playground." He leaned past Nightwing, locking eyes with Batman "We're watching you too, Bats"

Frustrated, Nightwing punched the man across the face- knocking him unconscious. He turned back to Batman slowly. He looked past his mentor, not quite meeting his gaze "It's been a while" he said evenly.

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2011-02-04 01:02 am UTC (link)
"He's right. The other families are gearing up." Batman rasps, wasting no time with preamble. Recriminations of past issues and missteps served no purpose here. The Colonel had given away his buyers, and now it was up to him to shut them down.

"The shipments come at different times, and they think they're avoiding me by splitting the shipments and using other means of transportation. There are three warehouses just on the East End with enough weapons to start World War III. Two in Crime Alley, one on the West Side.

Which part of town are you taking?" Batman asks, pulling the remote-call device for the car (he /never/ calls it the Batmobile) and pressing the button. The call will arrive shortly.

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2011-02-07 01:12 am UTC (link)
Nightwing thought a moment. "I'll take Crime Alley" he replied. He wasn't exactly protecting his mentor- his work took him to Crime Alley all the time. But Dick took any opportunity to keep Bruce from being confronted with his parent's murder. It occupies his mind enough as it is. He doesn't need any help in that regard.

Nightwing hit his armoured timepiece, dark red numbers appeared on his wrist. "Rendezvous at 0100 at location omega" Dick said, referencing the Batcave in old field-code Bruce had made him use in his first few years of training. The kind of extremely subtle joke that Batman would appreciate, and might even make himself (if he was in a good mood).

The car arrived at one end of the alley, while simultaneously Dick's bike appeared at the other end. He couldn't help but at a not-so-subtle addendum. "My Nightcycle is cooler than your Batmobile." Dick said, grinning like an idiot and finally looking Batman in the eye.

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2011-02-12 06:16 pm UTC (link)
"Don't call it, that." he says.

Batman simply turns and walks away.

But Nightwing will hear Batman speak as he's walking away.

"Chicks dig the car, more, though." he says, going back to the car.

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2011-05-15 12:27 am UTC (link)

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