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June 10, 2015 2100 hours-- Wednseday

Cold. Cold is one word of many others that can describe the Cave. The atmosphere of it's blanketed darkness... the eerie feeling that always remained. In the inclusion of the swarms of bats that hung above, through their fierce survival of the outside world... one would turn and run if they were to ever encounter these predators. Much less the conditions. Since I was a child I faced one in particular, in this very same cave. It frightened me.. To the point I would have reoccurring nightmares as a boy. Since then my fear of those creatures became to lessen, and my fondness increased. They are surely the Fiercest Survivors that could dwell in such conditions. Growing older--in several restless nights-- I would watch these creatures roam the night sky... Shrouding the moon as if they were displaying some kind of omen. One night, I watched a particular trailing herd fighting amongst one another, conflicted over some sort of prey they had captured... They glared at me with their cold glowing eyes like they caught me watching. I still remember their grotesque fangs covered in bloodied decaying meat, petrifying me to even look... From the wickedness of their dark manners is when I realized they were indeed the Purest Warriors.

The night is young and there are plenty left to do. Over a workbench, the Knight stood. Picking up any tool and gadget laying on the table that would deem themselves useful for the fortuitous conditions the night would have to bring. The sound of the last pouch from his utility belt locked as he walked away into a crossed section platform. Screeches from the rocky ceiling could be heard above, the clapping wings of the creatures calling out. Down the steps he continued onto another set, until he stopped. From the corner of his eye something glowed, the very something that hasn't made him freeze like this for a while. He turned, looking at it-- staring at it. Reminding himself of his greatest failure. It was Robin's uniform-- Jason's uniform. Displayed inside an air-locked capsule that had always remained lit. He thinks about him, reminiscing the time before he was lost... to that maniac. He shook it off, returning his focus back to the matter at hand. It was clear to him the message was well received. Behind him a voice rung, wishing him and heeding the call to be careful. He marched forward, approaching closer to the turning table that sheltered his car. The gears and pistons hissed, locking themselves in place to keep the platform steady. The car was already on by the time he went inside. Sitting in, the cross-belts buckled over his torso as he ran starting ignitions over the interior one last time. The engine roared, zooming down the lit path out of the cave and into the guided tunnels. Nearing horizontal blast doors, they opened as water seeped in without the right of seclusion. Once out, the car was exposed; surely prepared for the pending battles his war had to offer.

Some time had passed since the departing race; Batman was out of his vehicle now and had been awaiting atop a roof overlooking Black Canary's dojo. His eyes were steady, looking at the entrance with binoculars as he made himself known to the right person(s) watching. He looked to the right of him, glaring downward to an alleyway. Noticing oblivious bystanders passing by the secluded passage holding the controlled WMD within. He turned his attention back to the building as warm winds channel in from the west. He thinks about the Red Hood and Shadow: about who they could be. The thought fuels his anger even more of what their reckless means could bring to and endanger for the city. Thinking elsewhere, his thoughts redirect themselves over un-finalized plans he had discussed with Poison Ivy and Nightwing before early dawn. Tracing the exact steps over what he may do for the narrowed concluding act. Too many cases to solve.. so little time. He thought, as his cape rustled to the breathing wind. A storm was certainly brewing..

With keen attention, his eyes sweep the surrounding blocks for any figure worth taking note of. Deviating from his current position would be something unwanted due to his latest objective, but he does so anyway; knowing fully well of the regular occurrences of this section from the East End. From down below the building's street corner, he notices a silhouette darting back from their original path. It was too unusual for one abruptly reacting like that despite the reputation of these streets, there were absolutely no one hostile enough to could have scared off that individual.. Unless. it was the one he had been waiting to anticipate. He returned his binoculars to eyeview, switching it into x-rays to see if his hunch was correct. It was. He watched Dinah through the slits of the binos, seeing her skeleton peek by the edge of her window frame after entering her home. Once realizing she had caught the glint of his gadget's reflection, he tucked it away back into his belt. Now, he awaits for her to come forward to him. A few minutes passed until he noticed the same building's roof entrance opening, following suit was a promiscuously dressed woman revealing herself to the shaded moonlight. The sleek figure would give a wink as she turned and made her way over to his roof. By the time she did she would find him with his foot over the ledge and the other behind on the flat surface, leaning forward while he continued to sweep the area for signs of petty attention. "A visit from the Dark Knight himself. I wish I could say I was expecting you." "Dinah." He stated her name grimly, persisting himself to look down to the street below. "I'm going to go out on a limb here, but you need some info right?" She questioned him, almost instinctively she knew almost exactly to why he was there. He began, "The Red Hood and his affiliate Blue Shadow." He returned his arched leg back to stable footing, turning his head to look at her with his cold gaze. "There's been several rumors from low level sources that the 'Red Hood' had been quietly distinguishing himself to the Gotham mob. Subsidiaries of Falcone Shipment and Sionis Industries is said to have struck deals with him, altering their street distributions and marginal profits into a steady decline. For this Shadow character, her methods since she first appeared had been contradictive; but her actions would deem consistent when involving herself with the Red Hood's affairs." As he filled her in with a few basic tips he had politely received, darker and more denser clouds had began to plenish the clear gaps that touched the light polluted sky. A burst of wind flailed his cape drafting it to the East, in the same moment he watched as her golden hair respond to mother nature's tempest. "What do you know of them?" He asked, with a slightly hoarse tone.

He listened attentively, drawing out key words and minute but useful details that he could identify with. It seems that his judgement of her awareness of the city's streets provided to be fruitful in times when they would be deemed useful. The wind picked up, bellowing harder than usual. With his right hand he grips his cape, containing it to his side as his fist balls up through the black flame retardent material. ".... I haven't heard much, besides the Red Hood seems to be motivated by something, personal." His eyes narrowed to the statement, letting her continue. "She stops a jewel theft and takes a few diamonds for herself type of thing....lately it seems to have been consistently mischievous. I don't think they're working together though, its more like she's tailing him almost, I would say its an interest?" In his mind he connects the possible relationship, perhaps could be delved upon as intimate. "Case files I've been digging through had recently documented several organized crime mortalities. Their autopsies shown one consistent similarity among all of the suspected victims, and they are the precise measurements of cartridges of an specific gun model." He pauses briefly, finding difficulty with himself to believe or even speculate one man could have done it all. "I wish I could be of more help." He responds, "I refuse to believe it is one man doing it all. You mentioned his motivations are linked to be personal, how do you mean by that exactly?" Just then-- while he awaits for his answer-- he hears something distinctively from a location not that distant. ".........If you need an extra set of eyes, I could expand my nightly rounds to a wider portion of the city?" Her words would serve as background noise, as he concentrated his hearing to the sound. He walked back to the ledge, overlooking the street like he once did as he witnessed a few bodies in some sort of dispute making their way into an alley a few passages short facing the North. Just before he would answer her question a voice called out.

"Hellpppp!!! Hellpp mee!!!" A woman. Followed by her hollering cries for help: a young child could be heard wailing in the distant background. His cognizance peaked, turning his head to the distressed sound from afar. Through the call of action, Batman leaped off the facing ledge without warning. Rapidly firing his grapnel gun to a neighboring structure as the line retracted, allowing him to land and obtain the ability to continue free running his way over to the frightened calls. In his mind he thinks it over, expecting for a situation like this to come up and having to heed the unwanted calls for help. However, situations like these will never be unimportant despite whatever particular circumstance he would bring himself in. He picks up the pace. Dodging roof vents and steaming air ducts, he vaults over the complacent obstacles. Once he was there to the explicit location, he views the scene over; assessing the number of individuals involved and who may be perceived as hostile. Four men, one woman, and a boy. The four were in the process of strangling her, stripping apart her clothes like a bunch of wild savages. He looks to the side, seeing the powerless boy unable to help his mother from her impotent predicament. He stood on the ledge, leaning his head down to perceive his face as a shadow. In a commanding booming voice he told, "Let go of her. Now."

From their angle they would cease, bending their necks to look up over who the voice may be. From his viewpoint, he could see their eyes widening, a sense of fear developing over their faces as they realized who it was. Fisting his cape with two hands he dropped down, his cape allowing him to fall without the worry of damage. The woman was unscathed, besides a few torn fabrics on her. She took it as an opportunity to move away from the four and embracing her more than likely traumatized son. One of the men muttered, mumbling over some sort of delusion of grandeur that he would be the one 'to beat the Bat'. The imbecile lunged forward with a powerful right hook, dodging away and catching the arm Batman raised his right foot to the air and stomped the opposer's knee in a downward forty-five degree angle. The sound of cracking bone rung in the air as he followed up with a left jab and right cross to the noggin. Two of his buddies didn't take their friend's defeat lightly and so they moved in and gave their fair share of contributions. Left, right, dodge down, throw one against the wall, side sweep the other to his lower leg. With the one against the wall the Knight bashed the mans head against the brick construction, chipping a piece of the material off as the man dropped to his side. The other was down but not out, so he balled his fist into the pervert's shirt pulling him up just to knee him in the stomach. He takes both of his hands to his shirt again and keeps him loosely steady on his feet until he started unleashing a barrage of well executed punches in the areas of the dazed individual's solar plexus and sternum. He finishes with a crushing right uppercut to his chin, suiting him to the trashed rat infested floors of the alley. He then redirected his attention to the last person standing idly by, preparing himself into a guarded pose ... surely the Canary wasn't too far behind...