[for damian]

[neverplays]

Even though D'Amico had been dealt with, it didn't stop the rest of the shit from rising to the top. Moving through the alley, she hopped up onto the top of the garbage disposal, using that height to grab onto the bottom rung of the fire escape. Yanking with all of her weight, she rode it down until she could pull herself up onto the rungs, climbing up it, making it shake with her quickness.

From that first landing, she just kept moving up higher; seeking out the rooftop, a better vantage point, and less of that garbage smell from the alley. All she could think about was whatever these people were eating, was seriously smelling like rotted meat. Rotted meat and melted plastic.

When she hit the rooftop, her boots slid a bit into the loose gravel as she turned around to give herself a good sense of her position in the city. She could see the main bank building, the tall, silver frame encased in thick, reflective glass. If she counted three buildings over that was one of D'Amico's dirty lawyer's office. Two blocks over and five down; the corner doughnut shop that Marcus liked to take her when she got an 'A' on a quiz.

Knowing the city had taken her almost a year of practice, but she knew that if she got taken on any of these corners she could figure out where they got out, even if she was blindfolded. Maybe it was a matter of pride, but she knew her dad would've found her even quicker.

Crouching low, she gazed toward the edge of the rooftop, brushing the strands of fluorescent purple out of her eyes, leaving herself to cling to the shadow of the air-conditioning exhaust fan. She could hear the odd crunch of gravel beneath someone's boots, but other than Kick-Ass, and maybe Marcus, she really wasn't sure who else would be stupid enough to try and track her down.

Comments

[heirdom]

Robin knew how to be perfectly silent. It wasn't hard, after all; years of League training, perfected by the Batman's stealth tactics, made it child's play.

But sometimes you needed to call 'em out. Let the more finicky ones know that you were there, so they would think they had the upper hand. Just a wanderer, or an alley cat, or some dumb fuck out for a stroll after dark, in the dark, through the dark. Certainly not the Batman, or, god forbid, the newest Robin. The violent one.

Robin looked around, the night vision in his mask lighting up every surface. If he didn't find the idiot thugs kept confusing him tonight, he'd be dealing with Batman suspiciously checking that he hadn't run off to Manhattan in secret for weeks to come.

Besides: whoever they were, they were cramping his style.

[neverplays]

Her hand reached to her side, pulling out one of her knives. Her finger flicked at the catch release, holding it loosely in her hand as she moved to stand up. Regardless of whoever it was, they made a sound and either they knew she was there or they were about to get a surprise.

Narrowing her eyes, she was grateful that she'd already let her vision adjust to the moonlight, they were wearing nightvision. She contemplated flicking on her torch, waving the flashlight in his eyes, but decided against it.

"What the fuck are you doing on the roof - thinking of jumping? I can get out of your way."

[heirdom]

He heard her move for a tool long before he heard her speak, and his attention moved that way immediately. His eyes narrowed, suspiciously; while the skirt might have swayed female, the style of the suit was too practical for the majority of the female crimefighters he'd known.

Regardless of that, though, the voice was a dead giveaway.

A girl, and even wore, a young one. If this was the suspect he was hunting down, Robin was incredibly unimpressed.

"Looking for stupid little kids who like to play vigilante," he replied, coolly.

[neverplays]

Shrugging, she took her stance, making sure to give herself a good solid foot-hold, even in the loose gravel.

"I don't have a mirror on me, otherwise I could help you out there."

Her hand allowed her fingers to rotate the blade forward, letting the metals slide open, exposing the blade, hardly making the effort to make it anything flashy. He didn't seem like the type to be overly impressed by her handiwork.

[heirdom]

"You're funny," Robin replied, evidently sarcastic.

But she was wrong on that count; his eyes roved over every move she made, carefully making assessments. Taking in details. Figuring out everything he could about this kid stepping on his territory.

He reached for his own knife. Well, if that's how they were gonna play...

[neverplays]

Her eyes flickered over toward the movement in his own hand, a smirk creeping over her features.

Tipping her head to the side a bit, she lifted her chin as she spoke, giving her words a slight air to them, "Cool. That's a Ka-Bar Plain Edge Tanto, I have one of those." Of course, not on her at the moment. She was still playing favorites with her birthday gift.

Switching her hold on it, she opted to twist the blade closed again with a flick of her wrist, building up the speed to her movements as she moved over toward him, "I think I just like the movement of my balisong, though. Benchmade Model forty-two."

There was still a lot of caution in her body positioning, making sure to line herself up for a defensive position if she needed it, but mostly just curious.

[heirdom]

And there, that was a point of interest. Robin scoffed, suddenly, putting away his tanto –– the one Batman didn't know he still carried –– and dug his balisong out of his utility belt, eyes never leaving her.

You never took your eyes off of the opponent.

"Forty-two? No. The model forty-four is obviously better. Forty-two is just the standard. Anyone can use a forty-two."

[neverplays]

Narrowing her eyes, she shrugged, "Well, you already use a Tanto blade - the tip of the forty-four is straighter. I just like this forty-two."

She didn't let any of her emotion slip through her words, instead she just continued her movements, letting the handle bounce over the blade near her shoulder. "Sometimes all someone needs is the forty-two."

[heirdom]

"Forty-two's practically for decoration. For idiots on youtube who just want to put on flipping shows."

He flipped his open, once, more interested in seeing what she was capable of. After all, he already figured he was better than her.

A little confirmation would have been nice, though.

"Ever tried a Bradley Mayhem?"

[neverplays]

Hit Girl, moved around him a bit, keeping her eye on the rooftop behind him, but also making sure to pay attention to his hand. She'd used the Bradley before, actually for combat purposes the Bradley was a better choice. She knew that. It was a bit more compact, but the blade had a good rounded edge against her thumb when he choked up on it, and the handle wasn't as straight in her palm, it had a natural curve to it.

It was sentimental reasons that made her always fall back on the Benchmade, "Yeah, it's a good knife. Comes in a cloth sack though, what blade manufacturer gives a knife owner a purse for it?"

[heirdom]

"Who cares? Get a new one."

He flipped it again, copying her last move.

"But enough wasting my time: who are you?"

[neverplays]

Smirking, she watched him mirror her movements, but she hadn't even been trying to pull anything too complicated, mostly because she didn't want to show her hand so soon.

Idle movements, just things that came naturally.

"I'm Hit Girl," she replied coolly.

[heirdom]

"Hit Girl," he repeated. "Lame name, but I'll take it. I'm Robin."

He moved closer to offer his hand to shake, entirely bold about it.

[neverplays]

Examining his hand, she hesitated on actually taking it, mostly just to get in a poke, "Isn't that a girl's name?"

She wasn't sure why he was offering his hand, history reminded her that extending her hand to another hero had gotten her shot and out a window, but maybe this time would be different.

Shaking his hand didn't have to be the end of the world, so she reached to shake it.

[heirdom]

"It's a bird. Or like Robin Hood."

He shook, firmly, and then swung a punch with the other hand.

Sucker. That'd teach her to get him in trouble, and steal his child-prodigy-vigilante thing.

[neverplays]

She wasn't entirely impressed by the Robin Hood thing, who stole from the rich and then didn't use it to fund their own enterprises?

The problem with him taking a swing at her, was that it needed a swing toward her, which sent his own body into a distribution that twisted her other arm, as she held to his hand, it gave her something to hold onto, too, which gave her the leverage to attempt and duck away from the blow.

As it landed though, a bit off what he probably aimed for, she pulled his arm, pressing her foot to the toe of his boot trying to leverage herself against him to topple him over, at the same time, shifting away, if at all possible.

[heirdom]

Damian felt it connect, but not properly; his immaculate (self-claimed or not) aim had failed him for the first time (this week), and suddenly he was trying to keep his balance.

And then, suddenly, he was grabbing onto her to keep himself from pitching backwards. A backflip could have been easier, but not when she was holding onto his arm.

"Whoa––"

[neverplays]

As he fell, so was she, which wasn't exactly the plan. She'd let go, but he was still holding on. Shifting her balance, she pulled his arm again, this time to help him stay upright, because even she knew that it sucked to get a face-full of loose roof-top asphalt.

"Relax, you're not going to die of a fall."

[heirdom]

He held on, not exactly relaxing, but easily regaining that smirk along with his balance. It wasn't exactly genuine, but it helped.

"Obviously not!"

[neverplays]

As she helped him back upright, she flicked her head to the side, whipping loose purple strands out of her eyes as she returned the smirk. Gloved fingers brushed to her cheekbone, closer to her ear, she could feel the sting that had come with the strike, but it was just a grazing blow, nothing to even make her ears ring.

Letting go of his hand, she shrugged, "Should we try that again or are we just not going to be friends."

[heirdom]

He was surprised –– very surprised. In his upbringing, he'd be taught to beat down anyone who dared strike him, to prove his worth, but here was this girl, around his age, shrugging it off.

Robin had expected a fight, not some admittedly cute rival who could probably go toe to toe with him.

"Tt," he scoffed. "Why would we be friends, exactly?"

[neverplays]

Having other heroes, ones that were around her age, it could be cool. Of course, it could also bite her in the ass - and she had to consider that her dad might worry more about her if he was around to see it, but he wasn't. He'd brought them into the trouble with Kick Ass, so why couldn't she just reach out and try to meet another hero.

The scoff though, wasn't encouraging.

"Because it's better than being enemies." She didn't explain that she killed her enemies, but if she had to imply it at some point, she would.

[heirdom]

Robin thought on that for a second. Well, she had a point, but conceding was too easy. He smirked, leaning in closer to her.

"Alright," he said. "If you're good enough to lay a punch on me... we'll be friends."

[neverplays]

When he leaned in, her hand reached for the front collar of his shirt, tugging hard trying to hold him in place as she brought her fist sailing through the air.

It was at least his own fault for getting that close.

[heirdom]

There was a second where he tried to haul himself out of her grip, but it was too late. He saw stars with that one, and honestly, he SHOULD have seen it coming.

"Uh," he said, "Friends it is."