The sky was black with the angel's tears, thunder rolling as if God's hammer had crashed down upon the shell of the world. Smog polluted what was clear and good left in that city, seeping into the veins of the town like a sickening poison of fear and terror. This was Gotham City, and this was hell. For one lone woman, this is her home, her playground, the place she plays judge. The air smells stagnant, curtailing her vision unless her seclusion become somewhere up high. She doesn't stay in caves like silly men; she doesn't have a secret fortress like alien orphans. The church is her haven, her lookout. It is her place of solitude and reflection, amongst the cracking stone gargoyles that mirror her soul.
A shadow flickers in the lightning, distorted and convoluted into a wraith's image. Oh, but they do not look for her. She is pain and glorious rage, much more ruthless that the Bat, much more fearless than the Wing of Night. She toys and plays their games, but in the end …she always wins. Crime is in her bloodstream, a haunting notion of her father's DNA. Fighting is scorched into her mind, a trailing memory of her mother's blood. A life was taken from her so young, and now, she creates one for herself that is above any law.
Dark violet orbs pierce through the haze, ears ever pricking for the innocent to save. Blood is always due in the city…this city of one winged angels. Blood is always spilt onto the ground as if it is worthless as sewage sludge. But she will teach those who waste it's precious color, she will show them in their own crimson flow. The night is like ebony cloth, covering the wailing streets in its shadows. She welcomes the shadows as the blue and red flashes of light seek her aid. A single beam of hope bounces into the sky, the marsupial winged symbol not calling her. But she knows that within that clan, that Bat-clan, she must serve. The people she saves must fear her just as they fear him, they all must fear her.
Gun shots cling into the night noises, but do not go undetected by the angel that perches on the ledge of her cathedral. White teeth bare upon themselves as the memories of that same noise tear into her soul. The sky smells damp, liquid splashing to the tip of her boot. Soaring off into the night by a single leap of expert agility, she plummets into her city of dread. Arms spread wide and eyes lit in an unearthly maliciousness, she joins into the hunt. This is Gotham City. This is her hunting ground for those who do evil and strife. And she is…the Huntress.