Fall In Love With Batgirl

    Batgirl was much better prepared for the cold this time. She wore a specialized water-proof insulating layer of black fabric under her costume, and one over her head underneath the mask. It both kept her warm, and protected the part of her face that was normally exposed due to the costume's design. Only her eyes could feel the chill in the air.

    Rain was falling again, but it wasn't freezing as it was the night before. It was still rather chilly - the cold snap affecting Gotham City showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Completely water proof with her hair tucked inside her costume, she didn't feel the cold or wet at all.

    That gave her the advantage this time, as she was able to sit atop a two-floor apartment in a soaking rain without feeling a drop of it transmitted to her skin. She could sit atop that building all night if she had to, no matter the weather.

    Two cops inside a police car below finally exited, batons drawn. They headed over to a large cardboard appliance box, turning it over suddenly. Inside was a man, huddled for warmth, looking up at the two officers as he suddenly found himself exposed to the elements.

    Batgirl tensed as she watched the two cops lift the man by his arms, and pull him, stumbling, toward the car. But then she calmed herself when she realized t

    A young boy, perhaps nine or ten years old strolled down a street in Gotham City just after 8 p.m., carrying a bag full of groceries. His parents were going to be home soon after working a twelve hour shift at the factory - and it was up to him to bring the raw materials to make dinner home.

    He walked with his head down, cringing at every voice, every crash of breaking glass, or clink of aluminum cans hitting the street. Just like every week, he prayed that he would be left alone to complete his small mission - or that he would simply slip through unnoticed.

    But tonight, he realized as he saw tall shadows blocking his way, that would not be the case. There were three shadows - one took the paper grocery bag from him and began emptying the contents onto the street. Another shadow shoved him into a brick wall. The three shadows then began laughing as they picked up the most valuable of the grocery items and wandered off, fading away into the darkness of the street.

    The boy sighed as he looked at what was left - a loaf of bread and a head of lettuce, both purposely torn open and cast into the rain-slicked street. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down again, quickly shuffling toward home. His mom and dad would be very disappointed...again. For the second time this month, they would spend the week hungry -

    As the Batmobile came to a screeching stop, it was obvious to Batgirl that Batman wasn't just driving around frantically out of aimless anger. He knew exactly where he was supposed to be headed, exactly where the Joker had been holed up since he was forced from his last hideout.

    A converted warehouse on the edge of town, painted purple.

    Batgirl exited the car, mentally kicking herself for not noticing the place before. Joker always had a flair for being blatantly obvious - why should his latest dive be any different?

    She suddenly focused her attention as she watched Batman leap out of the driver's side of the car and head straight for the warehouse, pausing only to fire a steel cable up at the roof and take off. It was well known that entering one of Joker's places through the front door was a deadly proposition - he made sure to place armed guards and traps to catch those who lacked such knowledge.

    Then again...it was also his nature to be unpredictable. The only sure way to catch him was to be thoroughly unpredictable--

    Batgirl's mouth hung open for a moment as her own thoughts led her to a revelation. Joker had been studying Batman's style! He always knows what Batman would do...and those who follow in his footsteps a

    Cassandra looked up from a small table in the kitchen of her next door neighbor's home. Her eyes showed the hurt she felt, and her disheveled hair and torn clothing made her seem like a teenager who had just escaped from prison...or someplace worse.

    The slight bruise on one cheek told the rest of the story. Yet she didn't cry, or even speak a word, as the kindly older woman slid a bowl of chicken soup under her nose. Perfect communication existed between them...yet neither spoke a word.

    A gentle clinking sound was made by a metal spoon as Cassandra dipped it gently into the bowl, taking a scoop of noodles, and raising them to her mouth. She blew on the spoon slightly, silently, to cool the soup enough to eat it.

    Finally satisfied that the teen was eating, the older woman quickly headed into the living room, where her husband paced back and forth, staring out the front window, and stewing.

    "I aught to call the police," he mumbled as he paused to stare at the house next door, "He threatens me, and then hits his own daughter with a bible. A bible, for God's sake! There has to be a way to stop this."

    "No, Harry, don't," his wife whispered quietly. "If it backfires...they might really hurt Cassandra next time. They might--"

&nb

    Everything turned to hell so quickly.

    Broken glass littered the concrete floor of the basement of the Gotham City public library. Billows of smoke began pushing through the huge boiler room as flames licked at the ceiling.

    Batman carried the weakened Batgirl over one shoulder, and the unconscious Robin over the other. He was the only one of the three to have a breathing filter with him - he wasn't immediately overcome by the smoke and heat. The night vision added to his mask allowed him to navigate through the totally darkened room toward the stairs.

    Once he use a fireman's carry to race up the stairs and out to the street, he realized that Robin was in much worse shape than he originally thought. His hands and arms had been burned somewhat...while the skin wasn't severely damaged, it was bright red.

    He pulled a small tool from his belt and opened the valve on a fire hydrant nearby, letting the water douse Batgirl and Robin as he pulled a high-tech burn kit from inside the Batmobile. Time was running out - the sound of fire engine and police sirens began to echo off of nearby buildings. There wasn't time to stick around.

    He heard a cough and sputter, and watched Batgirl sit up quickly and begin to take in her surr

    The sounds of cursing filled a suburban street as Detective Williamson stood outside the former home of a young girl they knew only as Cassandra. They had returned to the burned-out shell of a building to seek evidence...a specific kind of evidence.

    He came, with his partner, to try and decide whether the window of the girl's bedroom had been blown out by fire, or if it had been shattered - either by the girl herself, or by someone on the outside. Williamson's theory was the latter on both counts.

    But by the time they had arrived, they almost immediately realized that the crime scene had been tampered with since their last visit. The cursing only started after he realized that the car which just drove past them with the brights on most likely contained those who did the tampering.

    "Fred, are you sure you didn't get anything on the car?"

    Detective Callahan shook his head as he held a cell phone next to his head. His current task was to call a supervisor and re-secure the crime scene. He and his partner would have to wait for a uniformed officer to arrive to guard the scene.

    Williamson sighed and kicked some debris on the sidewalk outside the house. "Someone's playing games with us, dammit."

---

    Detective Williamson kicked a chunk of burned plaster which settled on the charcoaled carpet below a small bedroom window. The house had been a crime scene for at least a year - and so far, the Gotham City Police had been unable to gather enough evidence to convict the murderer of the couple who lived there.

    The top suspect in the case was the couple's only daughter. They had no idea what her name was, where she went, or even if she was in the house at the time of the fire which killed her parents. The broken window in the room meant nothing - glass windows often shatter spontaneously due to the heat of a fire. Even the clothing left in the daughter's closet was burned to the point of being useless.

    Being the lead Detective in the case, his job was becoming frustrating. Every day, the Chief pressured him to either close the case or shelve it as unsolvable. Outside pressure was most likely primarily coming from the bank, which foreclosed on the house months ago, but has been unable to fix it up or sell it until after the police were done with it.

    "See anything new?"

    Willimason stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head at his partner, Detective Callahan. "We may as well just write this one off."

    "Hey, Wil

    Cassandra felt the room spinning as she opened her eyes slowly. Above her she could see only a white painted ceiling, lit from below. Her face and all of her limbs still felt numb, but she could feel something on her hands. She squeezed her left fingers into a fist, hearing a distant creaking sound...leather. She was still wearing her costume.

    She gasped as memory rushed back to her of the Joker's face. He had shot her with some sort of paralyzing tranquilizer and had his henchmen load her into a purple car which smelled like...either baking powder or theater makeup. She lost consciousness before she figured out where they were taking her.

    Her arm began to regain some of its sensation...and she used that to try and get a sense of what she was wearing. She began to feel confused as she realized that she was still covered from head to toe in leather - her costume hadn't been removed, not even her mask!

    Was Joker just really stupid? She began to wonder why he would pass up the change to learn her true identity. Her costume was still fitted to her just as it was the moment she put it on, save for a small hole where the tranquilizer dart punctured through. No one had even attempted to figure out who she was...Joker was indeed completely insane.

    But she had no idea just how cra

    "You'd better run!"

    A young man, perhaps seventeen years old, ran through the streets of Gotham City, gasping desperately for breath. He was being chased by four thugs, at least twice his size - they spotted him as he walked from his grandfather's house to his parents', only a block or two away. Worse yet, he dropped the inhaler he needed to treat his asthma...and he was quickly blacking out from lack of oxygen.

    As he paused for a moment to try and catch his breath and regain his bearings, he felt something impact the side of his head, and shatter. His head throbbed, his left ear partially deaf now from the sound of glass exploding so close to him. He could feel blood running down his scalp, inducing another wave of panic - he picked himself up and began running again as he heard them approach slowly. They didn't bother to run...they were waiting for him to tire out.

    His original plan was to try and lose them through the neighborhood - but now, as he felt blood running down to his neck, he began to realize that these thugs were deadly serious. He needed to run home, where he would be safe...

    "C'mere! We just wanna talk to you!"

    The teen bit his lip to keep from crying as another bottle went

    Cassandra tapped a finger on a steel post as she waited impatiently for her turn. She felt like cattle as she waited in a lane marked by a velvet rope and steel poles much like the one she tapped on, staring at a sign which read 'Wait here for next teller'. She was next, but it would apparently be a long wait - the man ahead of her asked for something beyond the abilities of the average bank teller, meaning the manager had to be called.

    She began to feel a little conspicuous as she stood in line in her black long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Everyone else in the bank, the customer in front of her included, wore dark suits and formal wear. Sighing to herself, she wondered why Bruce sent her to the bank - it was just...strange for her to be standing there, thousands of dollars in cash to be deposited encased in a small leather pouch dangling almost carelessly from her left hand.

    If anything, she guessed, it was an excersize in trust. Bruce simply handed her the pouch without hesitation, and sent her to the bank - totally secure in the knowledge that she would indeed be able to take it there with almost no risk to herself or the cash. He knew that no one would be able to successfully take it from her by force.

    As she leaned against the steel pole, using her foot against the base for leverage, she felt both confide

    Cassandra sat on a plain wooden bench, her head hanging as police officers passed her looking down at her as if she were common street scum. She was supposed to be a hero - yet there she was, chained to a wall by a pair of steel handcuffs like a common criminal.

    The last thing she remembered was punching a man - no, a sickening creature who preyed on those weaker then himself - and feeling proud of herself for it. She may not have been able to protect the woman he attacked, but she did manage to make him feel a penalty for what he had done.

    Unfortunately, the two police officers on the scene didn't feel the same way. Before Cassandra knew what had happened, one of the two officers slammed her against a nearby parked car. She struggled, tried to fight him - but she relented as she realized it was a futile struggle. Fighting the police for doing their job would be plain stupid.

    So she sat on a bench, waiting for Barbara to arrive. At least she hoped it would be Barbara that Tim would call - asking Bruce for help would be adding insult to injury. He always told her, and Tim, to stay away from law enforcement. He wouldn't care that her cause was just.

    "You're sprung. He dropped the charges."

    Cassandra looked up to se

    An expensive office, decorated in wood paneling and various glass sculptures, gave away the fact that the psychiatrist who worked there was rather high-priced. He sat in a deep leather chair, as his patient lay down on an even more plush leather couch, staring at the white painted ceiling. As he stared, he didn't say a word, much to the irritation of Dr. Craig Marcus.

    Dr. Marcus sat up straight, writing furiously on his notepad. He gave his patient, known to him only as Robert, no indication of how frustrated he felt. It might delay any possibility of getting him to talk. Unfortunately, anger seeped into his voice every time he spoke.

    "Look, Robert...I'm being paid one way or the other. The only way the court will let you discontinue your therapy is if I tell them you're better."

    Robert didn't even budge as Dr. Marcus leaned forward to try and gauge even the smallest response from him. It was like this every week - Robert would come in precisely at his eleven a.m. appointment and lie down, saying nothing or even moving until his time was up an hour later.

    "All right, Robert, we'll try something different." Dr. Marcus tossed his notepad aside and walked to his desk, removing a picture from one of the drawers. He glanced at the young woman in the picture - a brown-eyed bru

    A dark female form stood over two neighboring graves, he cape and her head both drooped down, motionless. The only witnesses were the moon and the birds as the form heeded neither the sounds of the night nor the stiff wind caused by an approaching storm. Even a sudden flash of lightning did nothing to capture her attention.

    Batgirl stood in front of those two gravestones even as rain began pelting her costume mercilessly. She stood, eyes closed, trying to fight back tears which were trying to force their way through. She had to keep control of her feelings. She had to face her fears.

    As she opened her eyes to look at the two graves once again, her feelings of regret and inward turned anger gave way to a wave of loneliness. She knew was an orphan now, and had no close friends to share her thoughts with. Her mind looked back at her thoughts before she set that fateful fire - for some reason, at the time, she thought she would finally gain some control over her life. She was wrong.

    Her parents' graves would stand forever, an eternal monument to her arrogance, and her stupidity. She had taken their lives without a second thought as to how it would affect anyone besides herself. The two gravestones would stand for centuries, mocking her and every one of her future descendents. No matter what she could possibly d

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PAGE 1
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PANEL 1

Exterior: Female silhouette about the same height as Batgirl (5'5", for those who missed orientation), wearing her cape and mask, standing over two neighboring gravestones, overgrown with vines. The moon is above (it's at night, unless the moon started shining during the daytime), filtered through both approaching clouds and trees. The tree branches and Batgirl's cape are being blown by a stiff wind caused by an approaching storm.

PANEL 2

Exterior: Flash of lightning tearing across the sky. Rain starting to fall in the foreground.

PANEL 3

Exterior: Closer shot behind Batgirl, her head is hung, and you can see two vine-covered gravestones in front of her. The writing on them is obscured by the pouring rain, large drops are bouncing off her leather cape.

THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): "I AM ALONE."

PANEL 4

Exterior: Shot from behind the gravestones. You can see them at the bottom part of the panel, Batgirl is standing above them. A "phantom" image of fire surrounds the stones and Batgirl both, as it's something out of her imagination.

THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): "I AM AN ORPHAN NOW, IN THE TRUEST SENSE. I THOUGHT I WAS GAINING SOME CONTROL OVER MY LIFE. BUT I WAS WRONG. NOW, THEIR GRAVES STAND FOREVER, A TESTEMENT TO MY OWN ARROGANCE AND STUPIDITY."

    "What have we done, Renee?"

    Commissioner Gordon sighed loudly as he stared out his office window at a group of officers leaving the station. The Gotham City police force had changed so much, so fast. His brothers and sisters were now more like storm troopers, forced to walk the streets of Metropolis on foot, wearing heavy armor - all in the name of safety and security.

    But it was the citizens he worried about. The police had become an intimidating presence on the streets. And the curfew wasn't helping to improve their image, either. He turned and stared at the pile of paperwork on his desk, wishing it would all just vanish. He wasn't in the mood for it at the moment. "This proud city of Gotham...my city...has survived earthquakes, crime waves, supervillains--"

    "At least we won't have that problem anymore, Jim." Renee Montoya had a hint of contempt in her voice, bordering on sarcasm - not for Gordon, but for the new situation she and the other officers had been forced into. In fact, as she spoke to Gordon, she stood before him wearing now-required black-colored Kevlar body armor.

    "The price is too high, Renee. Much too high." Gordon shook his head sadly as he reached down to his belt, carefully removing his badge and gun. He handed them both to Re

    Batgirl's head was spinning as she felt herself plummeting down the side of a thirty-floor building. She had little time to take inventory of her situation - only to react. She was falling fast, out of control - and it seemed like every effort of hers to slow her descent were useless.

    The police were waiting for her on the roof. They had set up a trap for her. Officers running onto the roof of the building across the street forced her to swing across to the nearest building - where more officers were waiting, guns drawn. She didn't think before reaching down to her belt - and before she knew it, a trigger-happy rookie officer opened fire, prompting a hail of bullets to chase her as she purposely threw herself, backwards, off of the roof. She didn't think about where that would send her - but at that point, it didn't matter...as long as she didn't end up shot to death.

    She spread her cape quickly to try to slow her rapid descent, but that only sent her spinning out of control - and a thirty floor drop didn't give her enough time to regain control. She closed her eyes and cringed as she watched herself approaching a concrete ledge quickly.

    Pain filled her from her right shoulder as it impacted the corner of the ledge, breaking off some of the concrete. She knew she was definitely in trouble by that point. But n

    Cassandra heard voices echoing down the hall as she sat on her bed reading a book. She tried to ignore the sounds, but she just couldn't - and it was preventing her from concentrating.

    She slid off of the bed and snuck over to the door silently in her socks to find out what was going on. She recognized Bruce's voice - and heard her own name mentioned - but she couldn't seem to make out much more then that besides the fact that she heard one man's and one woman's voice.

    As soon as she reached the door, she could hear footsteps approaching. She raced back to the bed, deciding that she was going to pretend to be reading again. Only when she reached the bed, she discovered that she misplaced the book somehow - she couldn't find it anywhere.

    A loud knock at the door started her heart racing, as she wondered who the other two people she heard were - and why they were talking about her.

    "Cassandra, open up...I have a couple of people here who need to talk to you." It was Bruce. She wasn't sure if she should trust the other two people with him, but she knew she could trust him.

    She was suddenly aware of the sound of her jeans rubbing against the comforter as she slid off the edge of the bed. It seemed like an eternity had passed before she reache

    "I swear, this city's getting worse every day." A tall man laughed at his own comment as he sat on the stairway of the Gotham Public Library, loading nine millimeter shells into a gun clip. "One of these days I'm gonna head for Metropolis, or Leesburg. Anywhere but this sewer."

    "Kenny, you're such a pessimist." Another man sat next to him, leaning against one of the decorative gargoyles near the staircase. "This city's not getting any worse. It's you, Kenny...you just notice more of it lately."

    "Yeah, Max?" Kenny snapped the clip into his gun, pointing it at Max while turning it sideways. "Dead men can't be optimistic."

    "Knock it off, Kenny!" Max pushed the barrel of the gun away from him, and gave Kenny a shove. "You do that again, and Jack's gonna hear about it."

    Kenny smiled and snickered to himself. "Jack's an old man...and he spends too much time running from the law to care...What's so funny, Max?"

    Max looked up at Kenny, suddenly pausing in the middle of loading shells into his shotgun. "I wasn't laughing."

    "Well then who--" Kenny suddenly turned pale as he turned slowly toward the doors of the library. There, standing in front of him, was a man with a white painted face, wearing a purple

    Batgirl froze in fear at what she saw as Bruce and the strange, bronze-skinned, golden-eyed Samantha came up behind her. She reached her hand behind her, trying to signal Bruce to stay inside the elevator car for a moment while she tried to assess the danger.

    The entire lobby of the Lexcorp building was filled with some kind of large soldiers, each carrying heavy weaponry of some kind. They were surrounding a large, hulk of a man with blond hair - only they were protecting him rather then assaulting him. They appeared to be generally heading toward the door, though they were also loitering longer then Batgirl preferred.

    She took a step forward, slowly, trying not to alert the troops to her motion. She was half afraid that they would simply see movement, and shoot before they had a chance to find out whether she was friend or foe - but from her point of view at that moment, the fact that they were armed made them foes until they proved otherwise.

    Batgirl drew a large bat-wing from her belt and unfolded it silently. She quickly took inventory of the room, scouting her best shot.

    "No."

    She heard Bruce's single spoken word even though it was just above a whisper. She knew it meant that he didn't want her to try to dis

    "Record."

    Bruce sat alone in a darkened office, the glow of his computer screen reflecting off of his reading glasses. Once in a while, he would record his thoughts into his computer, securely, so he would have time to peruse them later on and gain a new perspective on things. This time around, the foremost thought on his mind was...

    "Cassandra. Alfred was right about her. She is a lot like me when I was younger."

    Bruce sighed and pressed the 'pause' button on his recording software. His own words echoed in his mind, reminding him that he ventured too close to place he didn't want to visit - his own childhood. He took a deep breath, and pressed 'record' again.

    "Her intelligence and fighting skills are extraordinary. She may even rival my own skills one day...But at the moment she's still immature, inexperienced."

    Bruce bit his lip as his feelings about what happened earlier surfaced. "I...I thought the exercise with The Joker would humble her a little. She surprised even me."

    He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he continued. "Still...I'm not sure if she's right for the job. She doesn't take orders well, she complains. If she's to succeed, she'll have to

    An old man with a beard, wearing a dark coat and hat walked quickly down a street in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Gotham City, with his grandson in tow. He looked around nervously as he motioned with his other hand for his grandson to walk faster. The old man lived there for most of his life, and he could never remember feeling as unsafe in Gotham City. He knew of the rumors spreading through the community - young thugs wearing uniforms reminiscent of the Third Reich in Germany were terrorizing his neighbors.

    As he heard many heavy footsteps behind him, he held on tighter to his grandson's hand. Memories flooded back to him of when he was torn away from his family as a child in Germany. They were taken from him, led onto trains where he would never see them again. He glanced up at the high fence that protected the Synagogue from the world outside, a hostile world of vandals and thieves who wanted to destroy what he held so dear. He could never understand why.

    Just as the old man reached the front door of the Synagogue, he felt a heavy stick of wood hit him in the back of the head. He cried out in pain as he shoved his grandson through the doorway. He turned to face the men who attacked him with dignity. He would not fight back - he would survive them through sheer will, and protect his grandson from harm. He'd los

    She stared at the discarded television set on the roof of an apartment building for a full ten seconds before she gave it a sideways kick to send it crashing into the alley below. It just made her feel better, to see something break. Scaring the homeless residents of the alley was just a bonus.

    That's what wearing the black costume and cape of Batgirl meant to her - scaring people. Batman told her many times it was a symbol of justice. She knew better. Batman worked outside of the law, and she knew it. When he selected her, he took into account that she was accustomed to doing so as well. If he only knew.

    As Batgirl walked across the roof and glanced down at the street below, she reminded herself of a line she heard in the movie 'Titanic': "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." Secrets. She laughed to herself at the very idea of what most people kept from each other.

    She squinted a little to confirm what seemed like a call to action. A man taking a woman's purse on the street below. No witnesses, no one to help her as she called out for help. Batgirl removed a small device from her belt and sighed as her new life's mission became clear once again - the job of Batgirl would be to prevent anyone else from feeling the pain she's had to endure.

    One second, and a lack

Sat Nov 09, 2002
Issue #21 - Made In America, Part 2	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Batgirl was much better prepared for the cold this time. She wore a specialized water-proof insulating layer of black fabric under her costume, and one over her head underneath the mask. It both kept her warm, and protected the part of her face that was normally exposed due to the costume's design. Only her eyes could feel the chill in the air. Rain was falling again, but it wasn't freezing as it was the night before. It was still rather chilly - the cold snap affecting Gotham City showed no sign of letting up anytime soon. Completely water proof with her hair tucked inside her costume, she didn't feel the cold or wet at all. That gave her the advantage this time, as she was able to sit atop a two-floor apartment in a soaking rain without feeling a drop of it transmitted to her skin. She could sit atop that building all night if she had to, no matter the weather. Two cops inside a police car below finally exited, batons drawn. They headed over to a large cardboard appliance box, turning it over suddenly. Inside was a man, huddled for warmth, looking up at the two officers as he suddenly found himself exposed to the elements. Batgirl tensed as she watched the two cops lift the man by his arms, and pull him, stumbling, toward the car. But then she calmed herself when she realized t Read More 0 comments

Tue Oct 01, 2002
Issue #20 - Made In America, Part 1	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
A young boy, perhaps nine or ten years old strolled down a street in Gotham City just after 8 p.m., carrying a bag full of groceries. His parents were going to be home soon after working a twelve hour shift at the factory - and it was up to him to bring the raw materials to make dinner home. He walked with his head down, cringing at every voice, every crash of breaking glass, or clink of aluminum cans hitting the street. Just like every week, he prayed that he would be left alone to complete his small mission - or that he would simply slip through unnoticed. But tonight, he realized as he saw tall shadows blocking his way, that would not be the case. There were three shadows - one took the paper grocery bag from him and began emptying the contents onto the street. Another shadow shoved him into a brick wall. The three shadows then began laughing as they picked up the most valuable of the grocery items and wandered off, fading away into the darkness of the street. The boy sighed as he looked at what was left - a loaf of bread and a head of lettuce, both purposely torn open and cast into the rain-slicked street. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down again, quickly shuffling toward home. His mom and dad would be very disappointed...again. For the second time this month, they would spend the week hungry - Read More 0 comments

Sun Aug 18, 2002
Issue #19 - Savior, Part 2	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
As the Batmobile came to a screeching stop, it was obvious to Batgirl that Batman wasn't just driving around frantically out of aimless anger. He knew exactly where he was supposed to be headed, exactly where the Joker had been holed up since he was forced from his last hideout. A converted warehouse on the edge of town, painted purple. Batgirl exited the car, mentally kicking herself for not noticing the place before. Joker always had a flair for being blatantly obvious - why should his latest dive be any different? She suddenly focused her attention as she watched Batman leap out of the driver's side of the car and head straight for the warehouse, pausing only to fire a steel cable up at the roof and take off. It was well known that entering one of Joker's places through the front door was a deadly proposition - he made sure to place armed guards and traps to catch those who lacked such knowledge. Then again...it was also his nature to be unpredictable. The only sure way to catch him was to be thoroughly unpredictable-- Batgirl's mouth hung open for a moment as her own thoughts led her to a revelation. Joker had been studying Batman's style! He always knows what Batman would do...and those who follow in his footsteps a Read More 0 comments

Sun Jun 16, 2002
Issue #18 - Savior, Part 1	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Cassandra looked up from a small table in the kitchen of her next door neighbor's home. Her eyes showed the hurt she felt, and her disheveled hair and torn clothing made her seem like a teenager who had just escaped from prison...or someplace worse. The slight bruise on one cheek told the rest of the story. Yet she didn't cry, or even speak a word, as the kindly older woman slid a bowl of chicken soup under her nose. Perfect communication existed between them...yet neither spoke a word. A gentle clinking sound was made by a metal spoon as Cassandra dipped it gently into the bowl, taking a scoop of noodles, and raising them to her mouth. She blew on the spoon slightly, silently, to cool the soup enough to eat it. Finally satisfied that the teen was eating, the older woman quickly headed into the living room, where her husband paced back and forth, staring out the front window, and stewing. "I aught to call the police," he mumbled as he paused to stare at the house next door, "He threatens me, and then hits his own daughter with a bible. A bible, for God's sake! There has to be a way to stop this." "No, Harry, don't," his wife whispered quietly. "If it backfires...they might really hurt Cassandra next time. They might--" &nb Read More 0 comments

Mon May 06, 2002
Issue #17 - Running In The Dark, Part 3	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Everything turned to hell so quickly. Broken glass littered the concrete floor of the basement of the Gotham City public library. Billows of smoke began pushing through the huge boiler room as flames licked at the ceiling. Batman carried the weakened Batgirl over one shoulder, and the unconscious Robin over the other. He was the only one of the three to have a breathing filter with him - he wasn't immediately overcome by the smoke and heat. The night vision added to his mask allowed him to navigate through the totally darkened room toward the stairs. Once he use a fireman's carry to race up the stairs and out to the street, he realized that Robin was in much worse shape than he originally thought. His hands and arms had been burned somewhat...while the skin wasn't severely damaged, it was bright red. He pulled a small tool from his belt and opened the valve on a fire hydrant nearby, letting the water douse Batgirl and Robin as he pulled a high-tech burn kit from inside the Batmobile. Time was running out - the sound of fire engine and police sirens began to echo off of nearby buildings. There wasn't time to stick around. He heard a cough and sputter, and watched Batgirl sit up quickly and begin to take in her surr Read More 0 comments

Sun Apr 07, 2002
Issue #16 - Running In The Dark, Part 2	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
The sounds of cursing filled a suburban street as Detective Williamson stood outside the former home of a young girl they knew only as Cassandra. They had returned to the burned-out shell of a building to seek evidence...a specific kind of evidence. He came, with his partner, to try and decide whether the window of the girl's bedroom had been blown out by fire, or if it had been shattered - either by the girl herself, or by someone on the outside. Williamson's theory was the latter on both counts. But by the time they had arrived, they almost immediately realized that the crime scene had been tampered with since their last visit. The cursing only started after he realized that the car which just drove past them with the brights on most likely contained those who did the tampering. "Fred, are you sure you didn't get anything on the car?" Detective Callahan shook his head as he held a cell phone next to his head. His current task was to call a supervisor and re-secure the crime scene. He and his partner would have to wait for a uniformed officer to arrive to guard the scene. Williamson sighed and kicked some debris on the sidewalk outside the house. "Someone's playing games with us, dammit." --- Read More 0 comments

Sun Mar 03, 2002
Issue #15 - Running In The Dark, Part 1	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Detective Williamson kicked a chunk of burned plaster which settled on the charcoaled carpet below a small bedroom window. The house had been a crime scene for at least a year - and so far, the Gotham City Police had been unable to gather enough evidence to convict the murderer of the couple who lived there. The top suspect in the case was the couple's only daughter. They had no idea what her name was, where she went, or even if she was in the house at the time of the fire which killed her parents. The broken window in the room meant nothing - glass windows often shatter spontaneously due to the heat of a fire. Even the clothing left in the daughter's closet was burned to the point of being useless. Being the lead Detective in the case, his job was becoming frustrating. Every day, the Chief pressured him to either close the case or shelve it as unsolvable. Outside pressure was most likely primarily coming from the bank, which foreclosed on the house months ago, but has been unable to fix it up or sell it until after the police were done with it. "See anything new?" Willimason stuffed his hands into his pockets and shook his head at his partner, Detective Callahan. "We may as well just write this one off." "Hey, Wil Read More 0 comments

Sun Jan 06, 2002
Issue #14 - Rhythm, Part 3	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Cassandra felt the room spinning as she opened her eyes slowly. Above her she could see only a white painted ceiling, lit from below. Her face and all of her limbs still felt numb, but she could feel something on her hands. She squeezed her left fingers into a fist, hearing a distant creaking sound...leather. She was still wearing her costume. She gasped as memory rushed back to her of the Joker's face. He had shot her with some sort of paralyzing tranquilizer and had his henchmen load her into a purple car which smelled like...either baking powder or theater makeup. She lost consciousness before she figured out where they were taking her. Her arm began to regain some of its sensation...and she used that to try and get a sense of what she was wearing. She began to feel confused as she realized that she was still covered from head to toe in leather - her costume hadn't been removed, not even her mask! Was Joker just really stupid? She began to wonder why he would pass up the change to learn her true identity. Her costume was still fitted to her just as it was the moment she put it on, save for a small hole where the tranquilizer dart punctured through. No one had even attempted to figure out who she was...Joker was indeed completely insane. But she had no idea just how cra Read More 0 comments

Sun Oct 28, 2001
Issue #13 - Rhythm, Part 2	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
"You'd better run!" A young man, perhaps seventeen years old, ran through the streets of Gotham City, gasping desperately for breath. He was being chased by four thugs, at least twice his size - they spotted him as he walked from his grandfather's house to his parents', only a block or two away. Worse yet, he dropped the inhaler he needed to treat his asthma...and he was quickly blacking out from lack of oxygen. As he paused for a moment to try and catch his breath and regain his bearings, he felt something impact the side of his head, and shatter. His head throbbed, his left ear partially deaf now from the sound of glass exploding so close to him. He could feel blood running down his scalp, inducing another wave of panic - he picked himself up and began running again as he heard them approach slowly. They didn't bother to run...they were waiting for him to tire out. His original plan was to try and lose them through the neighborhood - but now, as he felt blood running down to his neck, he began to realize that these thugs were deadly serious. He needed to run home, where he would be safe... "C'mere! We just wanna talk to you!" The teen bit his lip to keep from crying as another bottle went Read More 0 comments

Wed Aug 01, 2001
Issue #12 - Rhythm, Part 1	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Cassandra tapped a finger on a steel post as she waited impatiently for her turn. She felt like cattle as she waited in a lane marked by a velvet rope and steel poles much like the one she tapped on, staring at a sign which read 'Wait here for next teller'. She was next, but it would apparently be a long wait - the man ahead of her asked for something beyond the abilities of the average bank teller, meaning the manager had to be called. She began to feel a little conspicuous as she stood in line in her black long-sleeved shirt and blue jeans. Everyone else in the bank, the customer in front of her included, wore dark suits and formal wear. Sighing to herself, she wondered why Bruce sent her to the bank - it was just...strange for her to be standing there, thousands of dollars in cash to be deposited encased in a small leather pouch dangling almost carelessly from her left hand. If anything, she guessed, it was an excersize in trust. Bruce simply handed her the pouch without hesitation, and sent her to the bank - totally secure in the knowledge that she would indeed be able to take it there with almost no risk to herself or the cash. He knew that no one would be able to successfully take it from her by force. As she leaned against the steel pole, using her foot against the base for leverage, she felt both confide Read More 0 comments

Mon Jul 02, 2001
Issue #11 - The Sound Of Silence, Part 2	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Cassandra sat on a plain wooden bench, her head hanging as police officers passed her looking down at her as if she were common street scum. She was supposed to be a hero - yet there she was, chained to a wall by a pair of steel handcuffs like a common criminal. The last thing she remembered was punching a man - no, a sickening creature who preyed on those weaker then himself - and feeling proud of herself for it. She may not have been able to protect the woman he attacked, but she did manage to make him feel a penalty for what he had done. Unfortunately, the two police officers on the scene didn't feel the same way. Before Cassandra knew what had happened, one of the two officers slammed her against a nearby parked car. She struggled, tried to fight him - but she relented as she realized it was a futile struggle. Fighting the police for doing their job would be plain stupid. So she sat on a bench, waiting for Barbara to arrive. At least she hoped it would be Barbara that Tim would call - asking Bruce for help would be adding insult to injury. He always told her, and Tim, to stay away from law enforcement. He wouldn't care that her cause was just. "You're sprung. He dropped the charges." Cassandra looked up to se Read More 0 comments

Fri Jun 01, 2001
Issue #10 - The Sound Of Silence, Part 1	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
An expensive office, decorated in wood paneling and various glass sculptures, gave away the fact that the psychiatrist who worked there was rather high-priced. He sat in a deep leather chair, as his patient lay down on an even more plush leather couch, staring at the white painted ceiling. As he stared, he didn't say a word, much to the irritation of Dr. Craig Marcus. Dr. Marcus sat up straight, writing furiously on his notepad. He gave his patient, known to him only as Robert, no indication of how frustrated he felt. It might delay any possibility of getting him to talk. Unfortunately, anger seeped into his voice every time he spoke. "Look, Robert...I'm being paid one way or the other. The only way the court will let you discontinue your therapy is if I tell them you're better." Robert didn't even budge as Dr. Marcus leaned forward to try and gauge even the smallest response from him. It was like this every week - Robert would come in precisely at his eleven a.m. appointment and lie down, saying nothing or even moving until his time was up an hour later. "All right, Robert, we'll try something different." Dr. Marcus tossed his notepad aside and walked to his desk, removing a picture from one of the drawers. He glanced at the young woman in the picture - a brown-eyed bru Read More 0 comments

Sun Apr 22, 2001
Issue #4 - Medium	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
A dark female form stood over two neighboring graves, he cape and her head both drooped down, motionless. The only witnesses were the moon and the birds as the form heeded neither the sounds of the night nor the stiff wind caused by an approaching storm. Even a sudden flash of lightning did nothing to capture her attention. Batgirl stood in front of those two gravestones even as rain began pelting her costume mercilessly. She stood, eyes closed, trying to fight back tears which were trying to force their way through. She had to keep control of her feelings. She had to face her fears. As she opened her eyes to look at the two graves once again, her feelings of regret and inward turned anger gave way to a wave of loneliness. She knew was an orphan now, and had no close friends to share her thoughts with. Her mind looked back at her thoughts before she set that fateful fire - for some reason, at the time, she thought she would finally gain some control over her life. She was wrong. Her parents' graves would stand forever, an eternal monument to her arrogance, and her stupidity. She had taken their lives without a second thought as to how it would affect anyone besides herself. The two gravestones would stand for centuries, mocking her and every one of her future descendents. No matter what she could possibly d Read More 0 comments
Issue #4 - Medium (Comic Script Format)	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
------ PAGE 1 ------ PANEL 1 Exterior: Female silhouette about the same height as Batgirl (5'5", for those who missed orientation), wearing her cape and mask, standing over two neighboring gravestones, overgrown with vines. The moon is above (it's at night, unless the moon started shining during the daytime), filtered through both approaching clouds and trees. The tree branches and Batgirl's cape are being blown by a stiff wind caused by an approaching storm. PANEL 2 Exterior: Flash of lightning tearing across the sky. Rain starting to fall in the foreground. PANEL 3 Exterior: Closer shot behind Batgirl, her head is hung, and you can see two vine-covered gravestones in front of her. The writing on them is obscured by the pouring rain, large drops are bouncing off her leather cape. THOUGHT CAPTION 1 (Batgirl): "I AM ALONE." PANEL 4 Exterior: Shot from behind the gravestones. You can see them at the bottom part of the panel, Batgirl is standing above them. A "phantom" image of fire surrounds the stones and Batgirl both, as it's something out of her imagination. THOUGHT CAPTION 2 (Batgirl): "I AM AN ORPHAN NOW, IN THE TRUEST SENSE. I THOUGHT I WAS GAINING SOME CONTROL OVER MY LIFE. BUT I WAS WRONG. NOW, THEIR GRAVES STAND FOREVER, A TESTEMENT TO MY OWN ARROGANCE AND STUPIDITY." Read More 0 comments

Sun Feb 25, 2001
Issue #9 - Tower Of Gotham	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
"What have we done, Renee?" Commissioner Gordon sighed loudly as he stared out his office window at a group of officers leaving the station. The Gotham City police force had changed so much, so fast. His brothers and sisters were now more like storm troopers, forced to walk the streets of Metropolis on foot, wearing heavy armor - all in the name of safety and security. But it was the citizens he worried about. The police had become an intimidating presence on the streets. And the curfew wasn't helping to improve their image, either. He turned and stared at the pile of paperwork on his desk, wishing it would all just vanish. He wasn't in the mood for it at the moment. "This proud city of Gotham...my city...has survived earthquakes, crime waves, supervillains--" "At least we won't have that problem anymore, Jim." Renee Montoya had a hint of contempt in her voice, bordering on sarcasm - not for Gordon, but for the new situation she and the other officers had been forced into. In fact, as she spoke to Gordon, she stood before him wearing now-required black-colored Kevlar body armor. "The price is too high, Renee. Much too high." Gordon shook his head sadly as he reached down to his belt, carefully removing his badge and gun. He handed them both to Re Read More 0 comments

Sun Jan 28, 2001
Issue #8 - Civil Disobedience	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Batgirl's head was spinning as she felt herself plummeting down the side of a thirty-floor building. She had little time to take inventory of her situation - only to react. She was falling fast, out of control - and it seemed like every effort of hers to slow her descent were useless. The police were waiting for her on the roof. They had set up a trap for her. Officers running onto the roof of the building across the street forced her to swing across to the nearest building - where more officers were waiting, guns drawn. She didn't think before reaching down to her belt - and before she knew it, a trigger-happy rookie officer opened fire, prompting a hail of bullets to chase her as she purposely threw herself, backwards, off of the roof. She didn't think about where that would send her - but at that point, it didn't matter...as long as she didn't end up shot to death. She spread her cape quickly to try to slow her rapid descent, but that only sent her spinning out of control - and a thirty floor drop didn't give her enough time to regain control. She closed her eyes and cringed as she watched herself approaching a concrete ledge quickly. Pain filled her from her right shoulder as it impacted the corner of the ledge, breaking off some of the concrete. She knew she was definitely in trouble by that point. But n Read More 0 comments

Sun Dec 03, 2000
Issue #7 - Cuts Both Ways	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Cassandra heard voices echoing down the hall as she sat on her bed reading a book. She tried to ignore the sounds, but she just couldn't - and it was preventing her from concentrating. She slid off of the bed and snuck over to the door silently in her socks to find out what was going on. She recognized Bruce's voice - and heard her own name mentioned - but she couldn't seem to make out much more then that besides the fact that she heard one man's and one woman's voice. As soon as she reached the door, she could hear footsteps approaching. She raced back to the bed, deciding that she was going to pretend to be reading again. Only when she reached the bed, she discovered that she misplaced the book somehow - she couldn't find it anywhere. A loud knock at the door started her heart racing, as she wondered who the other two people she heard were - and why they were talking about her. "Cassandra, open up...I have a couple of people here who need to talk to you." It was Bruce. She wasn't sure if she should trust the other two people with him, but she knew she could trust him. She was suddenly aware of the sound of her jeans rubbing against the comforter as she slid off the edge of the bed. It seemed like an eternity had passed before she reache Read More 0 comments

Mon Oct 16, 2000
Issue #6 - No Good Deed	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
"I swear, this city's getting worse every day." A tall man laughed at his own comment as he sat on the stairway of the Gotham Public Library, loading nine millimeter shells into a gun clip. "One of these days I'm gonna head for Metropolis, or Leesburg. Anywhere but this sewer." "Kenny, you're such a pessimist." Another man sat next to him, leaning against one of the decorative gargoyles near the staircase. "This city's not getting any worse. It's you, Kenny...you just notice more of it lately." "Yeah, Max?" Kenny snapped the clip into his gun, pointing it at Max while turning it sideways. "Dead men can't be optimistic." "Knock it off, Kenny!" Max pushed the barrel of the gun away from him, and gave Kenny a shove. "You do that again, and Jack's gonna hear about it." Kenny smiled and snickered to himself. "Jack's an old man...and he spends too much time running from the law to care...What's so funny, Max?" Max looked up at Kenny, suddenly pausing in the middle of loading shells into his shotgun. "I wasn't laughing." "Well then who--" Kenny suddenly turned pale as he turned slowly toward the doors of the library. There, standing in front of him, was a man with a white painted face, wearing a purple Read More 0 comments

Sat Sep 16, 2000
Issue #5 - SGPI Crossover: Strange Days	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
Batgirl froze in fear at what she saw as Bruce and the strange, bronze-skinned, golden-eyed Samantha came up behind her. She reached her hand behind her, trying to signal Bruce to stay inside the elevator car for a moment while she tried to assess the danger. The entire lobby of the Lexcorp building was filled with some kind of large soldiers, each carrying heavy weaponry of some kind. They were surrounding a large, hulk of a man with blond hair - only they were protecting him rather then assaulting him. They appeared to be generally heading toward the door, though they were also loitering longer then Batgirl preferred. She took a step forward, slowly, trying not to alert the troops to her motion. She was half afraid that they would simply see movement, and shoot before they had a chance to find out whether she was friend or foe - but from her point of view at that moment, the fact that they were armed made them foes until they proved otherwise. Batgirl drew a large bat-wing from her belt and unfolded it silently. She quickly took inventory of the room, scouting her best shot. "No." She heard Bruce's single spoken word even though it was just above a whisper. She knew it meant that he didn't want her to try to dis Read More 0 comments

Wed Dec 31, 1969
Issue #2 - Window On The Past	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
"Record." Bruce sat alone in a darkened office, the glow of his computer screen reflecting off of his reading glasses. Once in a while, he would record his thoughts into his computer, securely, so he would have time to peruse them later on and gain a new perspective on things. This time around, the foremost thought on his mind was... "Cassandra. Alfred was right about her. She is a lot like me when I was younger." Bruce sighed and pressed the 'pause' button on his recording software. His own words echoed in his mind, reminding him that he ventured too close to place he didn't want to visit - his own childhood. He took a deep breath, and pressed 'record' again. "Her intelligence and fighting skills are extraordinary. She may even rival my own skills one day...But at the moment she's still immature, inexperienced." Bruce bit his lip as his feelings about what happened earlier surfaced. "I...I thought the exercise with The Joker would humble her a little. She surprised even me." He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he continued. "Still...I'm not sure if she's right for the job. She doesn't take orders well, she complains. If she's to succeed, she'll have to Read More 0 comments
Issue #3 - Love And Hate	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
An old man with a beard, wearing a dark coat and hat walked quickly down a street in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Gotham City, with his grandson in tow. He looked around nervously as he motioned with his other hand for his grandson to walk faster. The old man lived there for most of his life, and he could never remember feeling as unsafe in Gotham City. He knew of the rumors spreading through the community - young thugs wearing uniforms reminiscent of the Third Reich in Germany were terrorizing his neighbors. As he heard many heavy footsteps behind him, he held on tighter to his grandson's hand. Memories flooded back to him of when he was torn away from his family as a child in Germany. They were taken from him, led onto trains where he would never see them again. He glanced up at the high fence that protected the Synagogue from the world outside, a hostile world of vandals and thieves who wanted to destroy what he held so dear. He could never understand why. Just as the old man reached the front door of the Synagogue, he felt a heavy stick of wood hit him in the back of the head. He cried out in pain as he shoved his grandson through the doorway. He turned to face the men who attacked him with dignity. He would not fight back - he would survive them through sheer will, and protect his grandson from harm. He'd los Read More 0 comments
Issue #1 - Winged Menace	Jason Owner Member Since: Fri Jul 31, 2009 Posts: 16
She stared at the discarded television set on the roof of an apartment building for a full ten seconds before she gave it a sideways kick to send it crashing into the alley below. It just made her feel better, to see something break. Scaring the homeless residents of the alley was just a bonus. That's what wearing the black costume and cape of Batgirl meant to her - scaring people. Batman told her many times it was a symbol of justice. She knew better. Batman worked outside of the law, and she knew it. When he selected her, he took into account that she was accustomed to doing so as well. If he only knew. As Batgirl walked across the roof and glanced down at the street below, she reminded herself of a line she heard in the movie 'Titanic': "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets." Secrets. She laughed to herself at the very idea of what most people kept from each other. She squinted a little to confirm what seemed like a call to action. A man taking a woman's purse on the street below. No witnesses, no one to help her as she called out for help. Batgirl removed a small device from her belt and sighed as her new life's mission became clear once again - the job of Batgirl would be to prevent anyone else from feeling the pain she's had to endure. One second, and a lack Read More 0 comments