nightly stroll...(open)

[huntress]

A woman stood in front of a bath room mirror. She studied her edgy features. The unkind, sharp stare was searching for something but couldn't point out what it was exactly. Her long black hair licked her face, landing on her shoulders as she opened her hair pin. She reached for something on the bath room sink. It was a black mask. Slowly she placed it on her face. Something felt different within her. Energy. Strength. Anger? The Huntress was ready.

Soon she found herself standing on a roof top. Glancing down at the empty street. Many knew better than to move around at night in Gotham. This didn't mean there was nothing to worry. No. There was constantly something going on. Huntress knew this well. She backed away from the edge and took a seat, leaning against an air conditioning channel tube. It was raining slightly. The heavy drops drummed against the ventilation shaft. Rain fell on Huntress. It rolled down her face, making her lips taste like salt. Of course it's raining...

Huntress sighed. There was no one to talk to. No way to pass time while waiting for something to happen. This was the down side of working alone. But it was her nature. It was hard for her to work in a team. She longed for acceptance but couldn't do what was needed to gain it. It was a strange pull that wouldn't allow her to work well with others. She just had to do things her way.Hence many looked at her with caution. They knew she was good and they appreciated her most of the time, but she was also unpredictable. She remembered how people seemed to think she was crazy not so long ago. Huntress snorted at the memory.

BAM

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted. A bullet hit only inches above her head. The one single shot turned into a bullet rain. Huntress took a leap behind the ventilation shaft, using it as a shelter. "Sonova--!" Another bullet came too close. How did she fail to miss people lurking, waiting for an opportunity to shoot her? She took another leap, this time over the roof edge. For a fraction of a second she considered if her move was a smart thing to do but it was too late. Luckily she found herself landing on fire escape. She heard the gunfire pause above her, which most likely meant they were now coming after her. She narrowed her eyes. A sting of anger hit her and she pulled out her pistol. They were getting too mean to be faced with a crossbow.

Huntress leaned against the building wall, listening in silence, trying to detect where the gunmen would come. Yes, she would shoot without hesitation now. She would have no mercy. The more she thought about it the more angry she was. "Come on where ever you are, come on..." She whispered as she slowly switched the safety off her pistol. The rain made it harder for her to hear the steps. It was a risky situation. They could come out of nowhere. She would have to rely on her reflexes. See? In situations like these some help would be handy...

What the hell is the matter with this city? That's probably something anyone not born in there would ask...hell, even the locals asked themselves that very same question.

[Captain America]

He didn’t normally spend time in Gotham, not because of any particular aversion, but simply because his travels rarely took him there. It wasn’t as if he did much traveling to begin with, to be fair. Getting out of New York was something of a rare occurrence, especially in the last year, things had been too hectic in his home town. Now, however, he had a reason to be out, or had had, if one wanted to be entirely precise about it. His reason, whatever following up he had done on a criminal who had fled his city and now rested comfortably in the hands of the city’s police, was a non-issue now. The point was that he was there in the city, standing on the roof of a building very near the precinct he had only just visited, watching the brilliant orange sunrise that only heavy pollution could provide.

It didn’t last very long, and the rays of sun reflected in the blue and red on the back of his uniform, and Capt. America turned back toward the dark half of the city. He was leaving in the morning, staying somewhere safe for the night, but he didn’t quite feel like retreating into a well-lit hotel room for the night. Not yet anyway. He wasn’t tired, and the rush of adrenaline in his system hadn’t quite calmed down. Still, this wasn’t really his place, had it been New York he might have stayed out all night, but Gotham was a different story, there were quite a few people (both villain and hero) that he didn’t particularly want to meet on a dark night here. In the end, he resolved just to take the long way back, and stick to the rooftops, what happened happened, but he wasn’t about to go looking for trouble.

As it was, trouble found him, as it made a bad habit of doing. Gunfire broke up and scattered a brief bout of thoughtfulness, and the Captain, from sheer force of combat-trained habit, dropped back behind the stairwell of an adjacent building. He peered out, looking across the rooftops at a number of shadowy figures chasing a young woman. They were firing on her, and she leapt down from the roof. He almost couldn’t stop himself being startled, just as certain as she was that this was a very bad idea. But he heard her hit the fire escape, and breathed a brief sigh of relief. While the woman’s pursuers tried to find better angles, he made the mad leap across the alley and onto their building. They hadn’t heard him, too busy trying to go after this woman, but they certainly noticed him quickly.

As quick as lightening, the captain threw his shield, neatly severing two of the men’s pistols and knocking one of them down to the ground, his shirt torn and a thin line of blood oozing from his back. Steve, for all of his anger at seeing such an underhanded deed as creeping up on an outnumbered foe, very much regretted this. Then again, there was nothing he could really do. War was war, and just because the enemies weren’t as clear cut that didn’t make it any less of a battle. The shield flew back, he caught it easily in one hand and held it up, a protective measure. “I suggest you leave.” He said, quietly but quite clearly across the rooftops, his voice measured. If they didn’t leave, he resolved to rush them. He very much did not want that to happen.

[huntress]

Huntress flinched when she heard noises that only could mean something was going down. Something was distracting the people after her. Struggling? It was all she needed. The sun was rising in the distance but she was on the dark side. Literally. At least it didn't rain that hard. She placed her gun back into the holster on her belt. Instead she pulled up her loyal crossbow. The distraction, what ever it had been, would work like a charm. Now she could use her bow without having to worry if it was enough. She was a baster archer with it but she could never use it against a gang of gunmen, especially when she didn't know how many of them there were.

"At least this time I didn't bring this on myself." Huntress muttered. Troubles had a way of following her. Sure it was partially her fault. And kind of a part of her job description. Suddenly she saw something on the edge of the roof. One of the shooters. He was holding a gun, but he was not facing her. This was her opportunity. She aimed her crossbow without hesitation and pulled the trigger. The arrow shot through the air and hit the gunman's hand, piercing it, painfully forcing him to drop the weapon. Almost too easy this one.

If Huntress had thought about what she was doing just a second longer she would have realized to question what was it that startled the men. It could well be dangerous for her too. But it was too late, she found herself taking a leap back on the roof. She kicked a man down along the way and punched the man she had already shot at. She couldn't help it, no fear passed through her mind. Only now she started to think about the distraction. While she was in the middle of a fight. Great, just great. She mocked herself.

"You sons of bitches!" Huntress roared as she found there were four more men to beat up. Unfortunately they were packing too. One of them attacked her like a bear, trying to get her off balance and knocked out but she easily tripped him. He flew over the edge and she couldn't help but to smile when she heard him hit the metallic fire escape. Her moment of joy a la blood lust was interrupted by the ah so familiar bullet rain. Huntress threw herself out of the way. One of the bullets came too close. It licked her side, cutting a wound to her skin. She shot back with her crossbow, hitting one of the men in the middle of his chest. Huntress landed on her side feeling pain sting across her chest. "Umpf." Damn...this is the third time I land on my ribs today. Quickly she bounced up but to her surprise no one was shooting at her anymore.

Huntress glared at the men. The one she had thrown over the edge climbed back up with his ugly face cut with wounds from the fall. They seemed hesitant. Wait, what were they looking at? She would not be curious enough to remove her eyes from the men. Distracted or not, they were still pointing guns at her. "What's the matter boys? Fun time over?" She snapped at them with anger. She didn't show it but the wound on her side definitely was hurting. Show no weakness. Besides, her anger was stronger than pain. The rain stopped. Noticing things like that clearly meant she had time to think now. The fact that she didn't know what the distraction was now made her skin crawl. It was the uncomfortable feeling of knowing there could be something lethal out there but she didn't know what or where...or who.

[Captain America]

The woman appeared and fought quite well to tell the truth. She was, in fact, rather magnificent. Of course, she was still out numbered, and he wasn't about to leave just because she could handle herself. Raising the shield he bent very slightly and barrelled forward, knocking down two who lay, stunned, beside one dead companion and another who lay bleeding into the tarred roof. He was now in front of the girl and the one remaining man aimed a shot that hit, sort of.

His uniform, bulletproof, deflected the hit that would have grazed the side of his arm and he flung the shield once more. It took him square in the chest, throwing him backward toward the edge of the roof. As the shield came back Steve was struck by a choice. The man was falling back, he would likely drop to the ground and break his neck. It wasn't as if he didn't deserve something, but that just seemed like overkill... so to speak.

So, the shield back on his arm, he reached out and grabbed the man by the front of the shirt, pulled him back to standing. The man stared at him, and Cap, for all of his conflicting beliefs, had no explanation ready for him. He also wasn't about to let the man get off free. With a slight shrug, he threw a punch at the side of the man's head, the force quite strong enough to drop the man, sending him, collapsed, to the ground.

Turning away, sucking in a deep breath, he caught sight of the other standing person on the roof. The Huntress, though he didn't know her name. He gave a smile, very slight, and nodded, eyes going wide when he saw the wound on her side, "There aren't any others are there?" He queried, trying not to stare, quite impressed that she was still standing.

[huntress]

Huntress wobbled back when the man dressed up in a costume appeared. He seemed to do good job. But she still didn't know whether she should be just slightly annoyed to be the lady in trouble or be grateful that he came to help. Now she was just standing there, looking at the struggle going on. One of the shooters fell but the costume guy saved him. Oh he should have let him fall...maybe he would have landed on his ass before dropping dead.

Then the hero knocked the gunman out. That gave her some satisfaction. Huntress looked down at her side. Now that adrenaline was already dropping, she was starting to feel more pain. Yeah, there was blood. She would have to stop by at the doctor's office. She muttered out a line of cursing. Of course it was her luck to get hit by a bullet. I wonder what time it is. The sky started to clear slightly and it reminded her of the fact that it was morning.

"There aren't any others are there?"

Huntress looked up slightly startled by the question. He was glancing at her wound. He looked like he almost didn't dare to really look at her. "No. I'm okay." She replied but at the same time she raised her bow slightly. "Pardon my suspicious nature but...who are you?" It was not like he had 'hero' stamped on his forehead. He could still be some weird criminal. Slight paranoia could be helpful. At least Huntress wasn't as paranoid as Question. "A good Samaritan?" Her voice was spiced with slight sarcasm.

[Captain America]

A smile worked its way onto his face, and he shrugged. This really was an odd city, in New York, helping someone was usually met by solid thanks, he didn't remember ever being asked who he was. "A good Samaritan sounds about right." He laughed, sounding almost shy, and looked around at the bodies that littered the roof, most were passed out, one was definetly dead, if the crossbow bolt sticking from his chest was any indication.

"Capt. America though, that's what they call me." He shrugged again, the mantle had meaning, of course, but not as much as everyone put on it. In the end, he really was there for them. He cast another wary glance along the rooftopabsently rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

He wondered what he should do with them all, he could call the police, likely, though how they'd get them down off the rooftops was another matter entirely. He turned his attention back to the woman. "I guess it's the same question for you. And, well, who are these people?" This was becoming a rather bizarre place, he almost couldn't wait to get back to New York, at least people were normal there.

[huntress]

Huntress wanted to smile when she heard his alias. That sounded just too amusing. Captain America. It was somehow cheesy yet powerful. Made her think about a GI Joe, wrapped in the flag of the United States. "Well, thank you for the help Capy." She lowered her bow. No enemy would choose that patriotic name. She observed the Cap look around and she followed his eyes. Yeah, he was probably thinking about the mess too.

"I guess it's the same question for you. And, well, who are these people?"

"Huntress." She replied to his question, walking up to a body, pulling the arrow out his chest. Better not waste arrows. Who knows maybe Batman or Nightwing or any of the hero types wouldn't come to bitch at her now. Though with her luck they would find out. "That's a million dollar question right there Capy," she hunched down at the dead guy, "there are many options." She started digging his pockets but found no ID. Just a few coins and a picture of a little boy. Great, I killed a family man. "Might be the mob. They don't like me." She chose to ignore the photograph. It would just make her feel about surviving. "Don't worry about the mess. It's a problem to be left for the cops." She got back up.

"So, Captain America. I think I've heard of you. Aren't you supposed to be in--" she frowned trying to remember, "New York?" Her memory was very vague but thought it had come up in the time of JLA issues back in the day. She wiped off the blood from the arrow.

[Captain America]

His immediate thought was, of course, Capy? which was quite a new one. Odd, rather random nicknames were one thing, but this one was just strange. To be fair, however, he had had worse, and it didn't phase him as much as it might have some other time. He was standing on a roof in the midst of a half dozen or more sprawled bodies speaking to a woman with a crossbow and he was worried about being called something unusual? What a world. "It's not a problem."

She started to dig through the dead man's clothes and Steve, battle-hardened though he might be, felt a mild distaste. He had certainly done such things before, but it wasn't a pleasant experience. It tended to humanize the person you had just killed, to find something that had been theirs. It wasn't something one wanted to think about in the midst of a fight, things weren't always black and white.

"By all rights, I'm supposed to be dead. 'Supposed to' doesn't always mean much." He shrugged again, glanced around once more at the bodies on the roof and shook his head. Such a waste, but at least most of them were still alive. "Does the mob always attack people on rooftops in this place?"

[huntress]

"By all rights, I'm supposed to be dead. 'Supposed to' doesn't always mean much."

"Dead? Well...no wonder I feel misinformed." Huntress said, "but I know what you mean. I'm supposed to be a lot of things." She snorted.

"Does the mob always attack people on rooftops in this place?"

"Well, they know how to hunt too. They go where the prey goes. If they were after me, no wonder they were on a rooftop really. Just bad luck they were on the same rooftop I was." She frowned and nudged one of the unconscious men with the edge of her boot. " I don't think I've ever gotten them after me like this. But yes, not a surprise to get shot at on rooftops. What? That never happens in New York?" She blinked and looked at Captain America. She then arched her brow. "What brought you to Gotham? Looking for Batman?"