noir_canary (noir_canary) wrote in newalliance, @ 2012-08-07 01:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | black canary |
Who: Black Canary
NPCS: Thugs, Human Traffickers, Michelle (a drug addict)
What: A New Case for the Black Canary
Where: Southeast of Robinson Park, Gotham City, NJ
When: Thursday, August 9th
Rating: R for violence, language and adult themes
There was a girl that hung out a few blocks away from the GCPD HQ. It was clear that she'd been on various cocktails of drugs for some years and was in all likelihood doing a variety of unsavory things to feed her addiction. She was missing a few teeth and wore a couple open sores that she couldn't stop picking at, whether she was high or not. But she was always there, just a few streets back from the GCPD HQ. She said she didn't work there, only slept. She said it was the safest place in Gotham.
Since Dinah had moved in to the Gotham Towers Apartments, she'd seen this girl around. She couldn't-- wouldn't-- give her any money that she could put into her arm, but when she had the chance, Dinah would bring coffee, or a sandwich, or a blanket, or a box of condoms (not that she was under any delusion that they'd actually get used, but there was always a chance) and directions to a methadone clinic or, at very least, the next stop for the mobile Clean Needle program.
Every time she bought groceries, Dinah walked home past the girl-- Michelle-- and made sure to give her something fresh. A couple pears maybe, or apples. Nothing that Dinah did for the girl was ever much in and of itself, but simply consistent acts of compassion.
There had been one time when Dinah had been coming to bring Michelle half of a huge hoagie sandwich (the other half of which was waiting for Dinah in her apartment) while she'd been "discussing" something with her pimp/dealer (they were pretty much one and the same, it seemed). He had turned and set his sights on Dinah, who was already gearing up for a fight- to show this bully a thing or two about picking on girls- when Michelle had grabbed his arm and bit him. Shocked and in pain, he knocked her aside and took off, trying to stop the torrent of blood that poured out of his arm. He was going to need several sets of stitches-- and even Dinah was surprised at the ferocity of the girl. For the first (and only time), Dinah let Michelle up into her apartment to brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush Dinah kept around for emergencies. They ate their sandwiches, and it broke Dinah's heart to tell Michelle that she couldn't crash on the couch; not even for one night. Dinah had offered to drive her to rehab right then- and that she was welcome to crash once she was clean, but Michelle wasn't ready for that, and Dinah didn't push.
That was months and months ago though, and things fell back into their normal routine with Dinah bringing toiletries, or blankets when she could, and sharing some of her groceries every week.
So when Dinah didn't see Michelle on Monday while she was walking home from the market, she'd thought it odd. Of course, Roy and Lian came over just after she got home so the strangeness of it was momentarily forgotten-- though it was never far from her mind.
But by dusk on Thursday, Dinah still hadn't seen her, despite making frequent drive-bys and foot treks past her usual location and that gave cause to worry.
She could have gone to the police, they were only a few steps away. She could have filed a missing person's report- Michelle had been missing for more than 48 hours- but despite every good intention the cops might have, they wouldn't do anything about it. They had more problems on their hand than one junkie who may or may not have gone missing. Besides, after 48 hours missing, the actual chances of recovering a person, alive, were greatly decreased. This was a figure that Dinah tried to keep out of her head as she went to her closet, stripping out of her civilian costume and changing into her battle armor-- fishnets and all.
Her first instinct was to track down Michelle's pimp/drug dealer. After what she had done to him, it would make sense that he'd be looking for revenge- and it was a lead, at least. Besides, if she still had contact with him, even if he wasn't the perpetrator, he'd have an idea who was. No one just let someone else take off with their "property" without retribution.
It wasn't hard to track him down at least. All it took was finding one low level drug dealer, throwing him up against a dumpster with the audible snap of his clavicle and asking politely to use his phone. He called his boss and set up a meeting, then wisely called the police to come take him to the hospital- albeit under threat of worse physical damage from Gotham's own Blonde Bombshell.
Her bike was just roaring into the night as the flashing lights came up to whisk her new friend off to the E.R. in police custody while Canary herself went back on the streets.
There were a series of empty buildings at the South East corner of Robinson Park, waiting for renters. Everything had been gutted and repainted on the inside, all modern steel and sleek designs while the outside bore Gotham's signature Neo-Gothic style, gargoyles and granite. She left her bike a few blocks back to keep from tipping off her prey, and disappeared into the park to watch the entrance.
A kid, maybe thirteen, was stationed outside- smoking a cigarette. A runner. If he saw the cops or another gang coming up, it was his job to sound the alarm. Dinah frowned. They kept getting younger and younger-- and she didn't want to beat up a child who could very well only be doing this to protect himself from the gang leader's wrath. That meant she'd have to either distract him or go around him-- and honestly, it'd probably be easier to go around, which wasn't going to be all that easy.
It was times like these when Dinah was envious of heroes with grappling hooks.
Well, anywhere that they could get with grappling hooks, she sure as hell could get with fishnets. Zipping up her jacket and pulling her hair down out of the ponytail, Dinah hurried across the street from Robinson Park to the mostly abandoned building, her hands shoved into her pockets. She took the tiny steps of someone who wasn't used to running in heels and chewed on her tongue to mimic chewing on gum. The kid looked at her as she ran across the street and gave a low whistle, yelling a couple choice phrases he must have picked up from his older compatriots. For her part, Dinah looked over at him, turned up her nose and carried on. Clearly the type of hooker she was posing as was far too good for the likes of him. Chuckling and watching her leave, the kid returned to his post as Dinah disappeared down the alley alongside the building.
Once undercover of the shadows cast by Gotham's skyscrapers, the Black Canary unzipped her jacket though she left her hair down and crept towards the back entrance of the building where two 21 + gentlemen with pistols waited. Apparently she'd found the party. These two, though, she didn't feel bad about taking out the old fashioned way.
Just around the corner, Canary waited, controlling her breathing, taking her time and waiting for the opening the goons were sure to give her. People thought that you got into the life of a superhero to spend it running, jumping, and generally kicking ass-- but that was hardly the case. The truth was the life of a superhero was made up of long bouts of tedious, suspenseful waiting followed by short bursts of extreme violence. Ironically, she'd heard the same was said about prison.
After two and a half hours of waiting, it finally came. One of the thugs pulled away from his chat with his buddy and started around the side of the alley, complaining (in much less nice terms) of a full bladder. Canary backed further into the shadows and when he was at his most vulnerable, one booted foot connected with the side of his head and he dropped to his knees, then onto the ground.
His companion didn't even hear the thud, and didn't have time to scream before Dinah was coming up from the darkness behind him, locking her forearm across his throat by grabbing her own wrist and held him in the crook of her elbow, flexing her bicep to cut off his airways. Struggling, the man went for the pistol in his pants, but Canary kicked his foot out from under him, controlling his fall to the ground and moving with him to keep him in the choke. When he passed out, she let him drop. Quickly, she emptied both guns of their clips, emptying the bullets into a nearby dumpster. She left the guns. The police could use them as evidence.
Canary turned her attention to the door.
She opened it cautiously and never quite set her heels on the ground, keeping the heels of her boots from clicking on the refurbished tile. The Black Canary checked very hallway and room she moved passed as she continued towards the front of the building where she heard voices coming from.
Moving silently to the front room, Dinah paused before she hit the doorway. It was lit by a few battery operated lanterns and the streetlights outside. By voices alone, Dinah could count five. She leaned down and picked up a piece of debris, hefting it in her right hand. It had been years since Dinah played baseball, but that didn't meant she couldn't throw.
Canary chunked the piece of debris through the room- using the clatter of it on the tile to distract the thugs inside. While they were looking the other direction, she darted into the room, circling around behind. The first guy went down without a sound, Canary's gloved hand over his mouth and the other pinching a pressure point in the upper portion of his neck. Before his friends knew he was missing, she'd already moved. They found the unconscious body quickly enough though and then the panic started. Two more joined their friend on the ground when they strayed too far from the group. That only left two.
"You think it's the Bat?"
"Shut up, stupid! He's gonna hear you."
They circled each other, back to back, trying to keep the Batman (or so they thought) from sneaking up on them.
"Go towards the door." The leader said, nudging his lackey back towards the door, their handguns drawn. Since he was walking backwards, the leader didn't notice when his friend was replaced by a much softer, though more deadly body. At least, not until Canary raised to her tiptoes and whispered right in his ear...
"Boo."
Starting, the leader jumped away from her, whirling and trying to get his gun leveled. But it was alright late-- Dinah brought up one forearm to block the gun arm, wrapping her hand around his inner arm. With one sharp tug and a forward thrust of her head, Dinah headbutted the man before pushing him back as soon as the gun fell out of his hand.
Stumbling two steps back, he held his face, his fear changing into anger, "You little bitch!" He yelled, reaching out with his fingers spread wide, going to grab a handful of her hair.
But Canary was faster and better trained that he was. Yielding just enough to move inside his guard, Dinah moved her own hand up to lace her finger in his, her grip like steel. She shoved his hand back with force- further than fingers were supposed to bend naturally. He shouted in pain and surprise, his wrist twisted and over extended. Canary rested her other hand on his shoulder and pushed at the same time that she kicked his ankle, knocking his foot out from under him and forcing then bigger man to his knees, still holding his hand up above his head and his wrist only one good twist away from breaking.
"I'm looking for a girl. Michelle. Where is she?"
"I don't fucking know- get the fuck off of me, you crazy bi--GRAH!" He cried as she started to twist his hand in her grip.
"Language. Where's the girl?"
"I already told you I don't know!" He protested, nearly whimpering.
"Then who would know?" She asked, not letting up.
"Last I saw her, she was hanging out with this group of guys down by the docks. Said they had work. I don't know anymore than that, I promise!" He shouted.
Canary let go of his hand without breaking anything and planted her foot on his chest, shoving him back onto the ground along with the rest of his crew. He clasped his wrist in pain.
"There are two things I don't allow in my house." She said calmly, circling the pile of bad guys in the middle of the building. "Guns, and drugs. Unfortunately for all of you," She said, tilting her head to look at the gang leader as she kicked his gun out of his reach. "You have both. This is a big problem to me."
Regaining a little bit of his bravado now that his wrist wasn't on the line, the conscious leader spoke up again, "Bitch please, this is Batman's t--" He stopped short when his comment was met with a heeled boot pressed against his throat, the blonde woman just as steady and strong on one fishnet clad leg as she was on both.
"What did I say about language?" she said, watching her prey. He gulped. She could feel it through the sole of her boot. "Now that I have your undivided attention- listen and listen good." She didn't lighten her foot on his throat and held his eyes. At this moment, it didn't matter that he had been armed, that he had a good 70 lbs on her or six inches. She, in the flesh, was just as intimidating as any boogie man who was said to haunt Gotham's criminal underworld. She was very real, very dangerous and very scary. And she wasn't the bitch here.
"The police are on their way. You are going to stay here until they come for you. And when you get out of prison- because we both know that you will- you are going to run. And you are going to pray that I don't find you. Understood?"
He looked away, trying to avoid the conversation, the humiliation of being defeated by a woman and having his whole empire pulled out from under him in one night, but she twisted her ankle turning his head back towards her. At that, he relinquished and nodded. She had won. And he was frightened.
Canary gave a nod of her own and dropped her foot from his neck, heading towards the front door, the opposite direction than the one she'd entered from, though she paused in the door way.
"Oh look, there's Batman now. Speak of the devil." She said lightly, leaving the criminal to cringe. If Black Canary was this bad-- he didn't want to incur Batman's wrath.
Smirking to herself, Dinah left and crossed to Robinson Park as the police sirens sounded, coming their way.
It was 5:15 am by the time Dinah made it back to her apartment building after changing clothes at the Clocktower. She rode the elevator up to her floor, and let herself into her apartment, closing and locking the door behind her. She collapsed in bed without bothering to take her boots off, just as dawn started to peek up over the skyline of the city. Despite the bodily exhaustion she felt, Dinah's eyes were open, staring up at the ceiling, her mind churning and restless-- already moving on to the next lead.