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 White, Red, and Black [Rose/Open]

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Bloom Rose

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Female Posts : 3
Age : 21
Location : Gotham

PostSubject: White, Red, and Black [Rose/Open]   Fri Apr 24, 2015 1:03 am

I stood above the city and gazed at the lights. I remember my former days of the Team and how much I missed it. I began to wonder what my soul purpose was being here, in Gotham. I came as an unknown. No family. Nothing to fall back on but a home of lies and despair. I was nothing but a mutation, a full out experiment that failed. On every stand point.
But that just lead me to become more of a failure. More of the hero I was not made to be. But the hero I wanted to be, regardless of what was destined for me. My friends who have taken me in meant everything to me. I sat myself on the edge of the building and looked out. My gaze fading off into the deep city. I was not on a mission nor was I patrolling the streets, I just needed air. I needed air at 2 am. Like any college student needed.
I felt the thick misty air start to rise from the streets, like it was about to storm… I perched up on the building and begin to straighten my knees when a force of darkness came across my spine. The shadow of someone or something was behind me and I couldn't do a thing but stand and wait. It was thicker than the fog below and the haze that began to burn my throat.
Do. Not. Move. An. Inch.
I clenched my teeth and centered my energy. The weight lightened as I threw myself back. Flipping in mid-air. I caught myself on the building with my hands. I looked and saw nothing but a white rose sitting in the middle of the rooftop.
It can’t be… He is the only one…

I balanced myself upon my palms and looked more. I lunged my feet forward and felt the ground before me. I looked at the rose, it was not dropped but more than likely placed... The force and pressure I felt was someone. Someone who knew I was up here, knew the spot where I came to look into myself, the only person who left me the white roses… But he’s dead… My poor Jason is dead. The rain began to pour down on my back and dampen my hair. I gently held the rose and began to turn around to head back home.

I continued down the sidewalks of Gotham until I reached my motorcycle and headed back to Wayne Manor. Bruce tried stopping me when I was on my way out. He did worry a lot about me when I would leave at such an hour. Especially without my suit on. I had it with me but in a bag on the side of my bike. I took the helmet out of the bag on the left and then took the keys from my jacket. I felt the thorns of the rose and jerked my hand back. The rain was at a slow speed and I started the engine. I placed the helmet on and sighed. I couldn’t help but continue to think about the rose. What it meant and who left it for me… It was not Dick because he never left white roses. Only Jason did…
Jason was family to me, when he was alive he was the son I always wanted. And I was the mother he wanted. He showed me compassion and love. Not how Dick did but Jason showed me in a way how a child of a mother should. I taught him everything I knew and Dick taught him everything he knew. But Jason died young…
I was on a mission with Dick as Jason was being held hostage by the Joker… I was unaware until Batman called on our communication system that Jason was in trouble… I told Dick that I’d join him as soon as I knew Jason was safe. I turned around and sped to the coordinates that Batman sent to me… Dick and I arrived just as Batman ran up to the building and then an unsettling feeling came across me. I jumped off my bike and the building exploded. I ran faster and became worried, angry, and most importantly scared… I got up to the top as Batman held Jason in his arms… I trembled and started to cry. I screamed to the heavens and dropped to my knees. I then felt Batman’s gaze. He sighed and said, “Rose…”
“Let me hold him.” I reached up to him and Jason was laid in my arms. I held his head to my shoulder and cried into the nape of his neck. I murmured the lullaby I sang to him every night he would ask me to. I ran my fingers through his hair and brushed it aside, just so I could see his face. I burst into tears and continued to hold my dead son in my arms… He may not have been blood to me but that boy sure had my heart as a guardian, mentor, and a mother.
I wiped pulled up to the gates of Wayne Manor and sighed holding the call button, “Alfred…”
“Ms. Goldman, welcome home.”
The gates opened and I smiled a little. I drove up the drive way and saw then my garage open. It was illuminated in green from all the plants I had stored in there, all the testing of how they grow and how they feel. I stop the bike and balance on my feet. The door opens and Dick is standing in the door frame. His pajama pants bagging down, “Hey good looking, what were you doing out there?” He walks over and takes my helmet off.
“Just getting some air.” I sighed and kissed his cheek taking my helmet and throwing it on my work table. “Why are you up?”
“Waiting on you. I was thinking—“
“Master Richard, Ms. Goldman. Come see this.” Alfred calls from the kitchen and I toss my keys on the work bench in my helmet. I rush over and find the kitchen television on and news reporters scrambling, it was 3:30 am and they were streaming, something was up. I heard a pattern of thuds as Bruce came in and watched with us. In silence.
“Breaking News: New live reports of head line drug dealer, was shot. He was pronounced dead on the scene and the murderer was not seen. No leads from authorities yet but if you have reports of what happened, contact Gotham City Police.” I reached in my inside pocket as she continued to talk. The Rose. I looked at the footage they captured that was live and I knew where that street was. I turned and walked to the garage.
“Rosie,” Bruce stops me before I got to the door, everyone looked at me. “Don’t go out there alone again.”
“Too late old man.” I opened the door and slammed it shut. I jerked my jacket off and dug in my bag and grabbed my suit. I slid the top over my head as Dick knocked at the door. “I’m not here.”
“Be careful and don’t leave, I am coming with you.” He walked off and I hurried and slid on my gloves and my belt. I grabbed my keys and helmet and sighed started up my engine. I saw the white rose shine on my desk. I had to get out there. I couldn’t wait on Dick.
“Sorry Alfred, but I am leaving without Dick. Open my door.” I pressed on the intercom in my helmet and crouched on my bike. The dire need of broadcasting at 3:30 am was something to worry about. Whether only I felt that way or not. The door opens and I speed out of my garage and down the drive way. I past the gates and turn left. This scene was not too far but it was in the city. It was at the building where I just was. I knew I didn’t hear or see this happen but the fact I was so close tells me that the person who left that rose could have seen the killing or did the killing… I revved my engine and sped up and continued to weave through the occasional cars.
“Rose, I said to wait.” Dick sounded frustrated.
“I had to get out here. You took too long.”
“Ya know, a full bodied suit is more difficult to slip into.” He snickered at me.
“I am almost at the point. It’s near the building I go to…”
“I know. I saw.” There was a long pause, “I’ll be there soon.”
I saw my building and skidded into the block before it and saw blue and red lights before it. About two blocks down. I placed the keys in my belt and climbed up the ladder, getting ready to reach the top of my building. I look up and see a broad shadow standing up on the ledge. The figure did not move. I gracefully climbed up and got three feet behind it when I heard a harsh voice. “You come up here often?”
“I should ask you the same thing.” I squinted my eyes in my mask, clenching my fists.
The man turns around and I see nothing but a red face mask and a biker jacket and gloves. Piercing white eyes, it felt as though he was looking straight through me. He inches closer and I breathe deeply trying to find the nearest plant source. I needed to find out who he was.
“Still cautious as ever.” He smirks. Then he throws a punch right and I swerve left, dodging and smiling. I aim for his legs and he jumps and flips over me. I turn in disbelief as I see a knife come from his inside pocket and I tumble forward and grab his wrist. He tries pulling it away as he grabs my other wrist. He chuckles a little at me. I grit my teeth.
I knee upward as he lets go of my wrists and pushes it back down and tries face palming me. I duck and swing my leg from the left and felt nothing as he jumps over it. He was dodging everything I threw at him. We both stopped and looked at each other. This time I felt not piercing but appreciation. He steps back and chuckles more.
“You haven’t changed a bit Rose.” He drops down backwards and grabs the metal of the stairs and slings himself on the roof heading south. I stood paralyzed. He knew… How could he have known who I was? I mean, yeah I am a hero but only seldom do I hear ‘Rose’ as my name… It has always been a nickname. From the people I loved…
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TheDusk

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Male Posts : 189
Location : Lake Hylia

PostSubject: Re: White, Red, and Black [Rose/Open]   Fri May 01, 2015 1:59 am

The Dusk let out a fierce panther roar as his elbow came spinning directly into the forehead of the thug in the ghost face mask. The white plastic cracked as the boy yelped, falling into the hallway of the derelict building. The Kruger and Jason masked men joint tackled the dark avenger into the wall. The exposed wooden boards cracked under the pressure.  The Dusk let out a groan of pain, feeling the impact in his gut. The shadow wrapped his arms around their necks into headlocks.  He leapt up onto the wall. The spiked planted feet of the beast propelled him forward into a front flip. The two men were flung into the opposing wall, the Kruger smashing through a rotted section of the wall into another room.  The Jason slapped against the wall with a grunt, but had already planted his hand in an effort to get up. A shroud of blackness fell upon him with a monstrous roar. A swift heel carved across the thug’s chin, causing his head to dent the wall. His head fell into a deep slumber.

There must have been men in the other room. At least four other masks began pouring out of the room from where the Kruger slammed through. The first to come through was a Jigsaw whom drew a shotgun at the glowing white eyes of the monster. The Dusk dove to the ceiling as a blinding shell illuminated the dark hallway. The shadow detached inches from the costumed man. Through the mask he could see his fear as he removed the shotgun from his hands. The next sound was the splintering of wood across his forehead. The Dusk used the barrel of the shotgun, the only part left, to charge the Pinhead behind him. The Pinhead tried to throw a punch, but the beast blocked it with his left forearm. Cold steel shattered the man’s zygomatic in his face. Blood sprays out from his mouth as he falls to the floor.

The next man was a problem. The man was wearing Michael Myers mask as he tackled the Dusk like a thrown spear. He impaled into his gun, sending them crashing to the floor back in the hallway.  The man must’ve had some knowledge as to how to fight. He planted his knees heavily on Dusk’s shoulders. The three hundred pound frame of the Myers began to slam down on Dusk’s face with unforgiving fists. The metal barrel of the shotgun rolled out of Dusk’s hand as the impacts became harder and harder. The Dusk growled as his wrists seized the heavy man’s ankles. With immense strength, the Dusk pulled the man’s ankles toward him with a quick jolt. There was a sickening pop of the man’s knees as legs suddenly arched into two ninety degree angles. A shrill scream echoed through the dirty hallway. The beast tossed the man away from him.

The Kruger had not been put away. He came zooming into the room when Dusk hadn’t even reached his feet yet. The burnt masked man threw a wild punch into the cheek of a kneeling Dusk. His head snapped back, almost sending him reeling. The man attempted to throw a kick into the face of the dark avenger. Instead, the Dusk seized the leg under his arm and twisted it with a violent jolt. It cracked under the pressure. The shadow stood to his feet tossing the villain into a spiral. The Kruger slapped the floor holding his leg in anguished terror.

The Dusk breathed heavily, panting as he drearily rose to his feet. He stumbled towards the lone door at the end of the hallway like a man who hadn’t slept in years. His claws grazed across the torn drywall that had yellowed with age and lack of treatment.  The boards creaked under the stress of his weary body. The blood that boiled in his veins was the only driving force keeping him on his feet. The adrenaline of the fight was bearing down on him and he was having trouble standing. He felt the rib that had been bruised by the double tackle and he couldn’t help but nurse it with his free hand. His back ached as it always did, only magnified by the slam into the wall. The Dusk idly stared back at the crack in the wall that traveled all the way to the tip of his finger up the hallway.

His keen ears picked up a distinct click. The Dusk preemptively moved, saving his own life as the door suddenly swung open and a bullet grazed his arm. Blood instantly began streaming down his bicep as the Dusk dove into a side room. His forearms hit a dusty rug and he moved on all fours like a panther. The beast leapt to a torn couch left beside the doorway. He perched on the back like bird of prey. The dark avenger winced a bit as his nursing hand moved from his rib to the new wound on his shoulder.

The blast sounded like it was a revolver, the kind that his Dad used to have. His footsteps were heavy, like he too hadn’t slept well. The boards whined under the stress of his steps. His breathing was raspy and broken, a smoker no doubt. The noise that caught Dusk’s attention was the sound of high pitched whimpering. The noise sounded like a mix of pouting and crying all at once.

He had the little girl, no more than eleven, with him.

The Dusk closed his eyes, allowing all sound in the area to go into an eerie silence. It was the most he could muster with his current state. His powers, as limited as they were, were tied to his own fatigue and injury. Such effects like the fog and traveling between the worlds took so much out of the Dusk. After sustaining injuries fighting through the building, he was broken and tired. However, he would not rest until the girl was back in safe hands.

Using the soft cousin of the couch, the Dusk move silently towards the doorway. His cape pressed against the wall, trying to stay as much out of view as possible. Sound had been rendered useless by his abilities. All he needed to worry about now was being seen.

The thug came around the corner in a blur. The Dusk tried to reach him first, but he wasn’t faster than the gun shot that blasted into the same arm. He yelped, but no sound came out. Blood splattered across the yellow torn couch. His quick reaction allowed him to shoot out a strong strand of ectoplasm before he fell to the couch. The blast hit the gun causing it to soar out of his hands and roll down the hallway. The man with the child turned to run down the hall after the gun. The Dusk pulled through the burning pain in his arm. He used his free hand to fire another strand of sticky green ectoplasm onto the ankle of the thug. The masked man slams face first into the floor, shattering his nose. The young girl hits on her hip, struggling free of the injured man and running over to the Dusk as he stood slowly. His back was hunched, his right hand nursing his bloody arm. The little girl hid beneath the enshrouded cape of the Dusk as the clown masked perpetrator ascended to his feet. The shot to Dusk’s arm had caused him to lose control over his silence and sound re-entered the room.

He suddenly hears the clown man chuckle.

“What are ya’ gonna do with you like that?” he scoffs, approaching the girl as if to take her like a toy without resistance.

The Dusk grabs the back of the man’s head with his nursing hand and slams his horned head into the clown mask. The effort causes both men to fall. The Dusk stumbles onto his knee. The girl screams in fear. The man doesn’t yet fall. He only stumbles a bit before coming back after Dusk. The Dusk persevered through the searing in his bicep. The beast leaps into the air, hooking his legs around the man’s neck and hurling him head first into the floor. The boards snap and crack as his clown mask breaks with the force. With his keen ears, Dusk hears the man descend into unconsciousness with a dull grunt.

The Dusk pants heavily, wincing at his arm before slumping against the couch.

The young girl instantly rushes over to him.

“Hey hey, y-you’re bleeding!”

The Dusk only chuckles, his mind thinking the girl captain obvious. He ignores the concern, only using his nursing hand to grab the couch and hoist himself back up to his feet. His claw doesn’t leave the couch, using it as support as his gnarled cape folds over him.

“Wh…where did they take you from..? I’ll.. I’ll take you home little one,” The Dusk asks, heavy panting interrupting his sentences. He truly didn’t know if it was from the fatigue or the pain at this point. He stared at the child, awaiting her answer.

“Gotham. Ya know? The Knights?” the girl quirks.

The Dusk shakes his head, completely forgetting that baseball was even in season. He’ll have to remember that. He nods slowly, extending his claw to the girl.

“It’ll be awhile… but let’s go… You.. you deserve a safe ride home.”

“Thank you.. I’m Dapne. Dapne Pennyworth…,”

“Let us go Dapne,” The Dusk nods contently.

 


 


The low hum of the bike grumbled beneath the duo. The Dusk’s gnarled cape bolted in the wind behind him. The night was calm. There was not a cloud in the sky. The girl was lucky that the Dusk had started so early in the night. He had set out to save the girl at about night. It would take the two of them about twelve hours to reach Gotham on the east coast. The moon was bright over the rolling hills of Ohio. There was not another light besides the headlight of the motorcycle for miles. It was so… serene the silence.

Ohio always had a fond place in his heart. Terry had relatives out here a long time ago. They were all on his mother’s side. He had passed Toledo not too long ago, but his relatives were on the south side, closer to Cincinnati. He remembered that before his mother left they’d go to see them once a year before Christmas. It was a quaint little get together. Nothing beat the homemade food and games. His family used to get along so well back then…

… He wonders how it got the way it was. Graves assumed it was because of his father’s involvement in the Family that turned him so sour. Then again, does anyone really actually turn sour? Or are they just showing a deeper side of themselves? Terry ponders that that for a moment. When he was a kid, his father was such a hero to him. Hell, the guy liked comic books and actually played games with him. Terry could only draw because of the time he spent reading those books with him. Nowhere near Amy’s level of artistic talent, but still impressive.

After he was about nine, his mother left when Brogan started going downhill. He’d never heard from her since that night in the kitchen…

Terry shivered.

He blames it on the night chill. His eyes graze the long flowing farmlands before gazing up at the pale white moon. The young man smirks a bit, the glow reminding him of his eyes as the Dusk. His attention shifts down to the little girl, cradled within his cloak. She was fast asleep, clung to him with an endearing little snore.  For a six year old, it was funny to see she still hadn’t kicked the habit of sucking her thumb. The kids in class probably made fun of her for that. The thought made him laugh. Terry himself had only had Lance until about sixth grade. Even then, he only gained a few more friends. Graves had always been a drifter and it had never been by choice. He had never really known why or could place how he always ended up so far away from people and relationships. Entire groups of friends would pass him by and he had no clue as to how or why. Terry would see some as family even, but they all fell like sand through his fingers eventually. Some hurt more than others, but most had been a numb experience. He could never really get used to it, but he’d gotten pretty damn close.

It was such a strange line he walked. He was always strung up between caring too much and numbing himself to where he didn’t care enough. Sometimes he did the wrong disposition at the wrong moment. Did he throw all of himself into someone? Just so they could walk away later? Or does he throw nothing into someone and they walk away sooner? It was such a bothering ideal.

Long nights like these were the ones he both loved and hated. These were the ones where he became lost in his own mind. He thought of everything and anything in extravagant detail. Anything from that one time a simple game of patty cake spilled a Dr. Pepper all over Amy to the soldier mentality Morg was always trying to impress on him. There were memories of his time in the Family, some with his actual family, etc. He remembers Lance fondly, feeling an ache to see him again. The two had grown distant with the Dusk, college, etc.  It was a crying shame for the two of them, each other’s only friends since childhood.

Terry laughs again.

Like that one time when they had lived in the apartment next to each other and Lance literally drilled a hole in the wall to talk to him. Terry was a kid and wasn’t allowed to leave without permission and since his father was asleep, he couldn’t go see Lance. Lance, however, had wanted Terry to come over around this time and was determined to see his buddy. So determined, that apparently drilling a hole in the wall just to talk to Terry was the optimal choice. It was a child’s logic. Too bad the sound of the drill woke Brogan up. Man was he furious. Barged right over to the Dugan’s door and beat on it for years. Little Lance didn’t even answer the door.

“Like Brogan somehow didn’t know he was there,” Terry chuckled to himself silently.

When Lance’s father got home, he handled it pretty well and plastered both sides of the wall. It was always a sweet reminder of just how much Lance would do for Terry.  He let a bittersweet smile slip onto his lips beneath the mask.

He wondered where that love was now.


 


Sunlight glistening off the towering buildings of Gotham city. The Dusk had parked the bike in a secluded area outside town. He’d told Dapne as Dusk that a “mutual friend” would see to her safety and that she could trust him. That’s when he remerged moments later as Terry, dressed as modestly as he usually is.

“Are you the Dusk’s friend?” she quipped.

“Yeah, afraid I am,” Terry smirked, his face folding into a smile. He nodded affirmingly, his long hair waving about his head in a passing wind. He approached his bike, the old hike of his father’s, and motioned to her.

“I’m Terry, and the Dusk told me your family lives in Gotham?” Graves questioned as he revved up the engine and started back on the main road into Gotham. The buildings were humongous and expansive, but none of them shared the same aura than those in Detroit. Detroit was a smaller city, having a dozen of high skyscrapers with a few other buildings. Most of the “city” was simple living areas and stuffed buildings that didn’t quite count as suburbs. Some of the neighborhoods were extremely bad. As in, even locking your doors may not be enough, bad. Gotham had this odd feel to it. It felt as if someone had taken that bad neighborhood back in Detroit and built it with skyscrapers instead of a row of shanty houses. Sure, the shining Wayne Tower was still glorious, but the buildings around it didn’t fool Terry. He’d lived in downtown Detroit all his life. He knew the buildings had secrets. These secrets were something that couldn’t hide from someone like him. He saw the subtle hints. The boarded windows here and there, the disrepair, the ominous darkness. The kind that makes you stand taller and put a hood up instead of appearing as gentlemanly as possible. The kind that makes you take a gun out with you to go anywhere.

This was a city that turned black by night.

“Well… not exactly.” Dapne finally answered

Terry’s head shot around like lightning.

“Wh-what? What do you mean???” Terry spiraled down a less busy street and drove slower. Had he actually drove twelve hours to the East Coast on the whim of a child? He groaned heavily on the inside, knowing he probably should have had better judgement with a child. Then again, to his credit, he wasn’t exactly in the best state of mind at the time.

“Well… uh… Mr. Terry.. th-they..,” she began to whimper, like something was caught in her throat. A red light stops the two and he turns around to see her eyes reddening with liquid. Terry’s heart sunk, knowing that look better than any. His eyes became somber and half lidded. He sighed heavily, feeling his heart sink into his toes. The only reason Graves knew was because he too often had that face. Whenever he’d actually hear someone ask if he had someone in his life. When someone would ask if he had any plans to get married when he was older. It was someone digging into your life and finding a big gaping hole. That’s what her face told him.

“It’s okay Dapne… I know,” Terry hushed her, removing a hand from the bike handle for a moment to hold her shoulder.  He sighed heavily again, turning back to his Harley as the light turned green. The two drove in silence for what felt like eons. Graves idly circled the block, giving her time to simmer down before making his next move. Terry knew above all else that something this delicate needed time.

After about five circles, and a gas gauge nearing empty, he finally pops the question.

“Do you have any family left…? I mean, here… in Gotham?” Terry speaks softly to the young girl.

The girl turns away for a moment. There were still tears in her eyes, but she did not turn away out of despair. She seemed to be pondering the question. Terry was patient, waiting at yet another red light. This time, Terry turned fully to the girl and grasped her hands.

“Do you have anyone who might take care of you?”

“Aunt Tammy always talked about a great uncle Alfred. She said he worked with the Waynes, but since he was a butler we probably wouldn’t see him much,” she finally speaks, cracked and whimpered words.

Terry sighs, knowing he and the rich never really get along well. He bites his lip a bit, knowing how sketchy it sounded bringing a girl who evidently is not very close with this relative to not even his doorstep, but to his rich billionaire master’s manor. Dapne was beginning to amount to a whole heap of trouble that Terry didn’t even know if it was worth it. It was a silly question, because doing this was of course worth it. It was more of understanding just how much Graves would suffer as the ordeal unfolded. From the current point of view, it would be significant. There were just so many ways the ordeal could go wrong. Obviously she was kidnapped, so he may be accused of being the kidnapper himself. Then again, this Alfred guy doesn’t seem to be close to Dapne at all. So he may not even know about the kidnapping…

“I hope…,” Terry mutters to himself.

The light turns green and Terry lets out a groaning sigh.

“Fine… we’ll see if this Alfred will take care of you. God knows his billionaire master can,” Terry delicately accepts her request.

Driving to Wayne Manor took more time than Terry anticipated. Graves had to drive slowly because he had no idea where the manor even was. He had to drive one handed while googling it on his phone. Which, since he had bought a cheap service due to his poor state, wouldn’t load for the first fifteen attempts. After the frustration with his phone, he learned that Wayne Manor was way out on the other side of town. This caused a total three sixty of their current direction and traveling out of the actual city itself. Even when he was half way through the suburbs, the gps on his phone still had him going for at least another hour.

It was about midday before Terry was actually into the hills outside Gotham. The hills were definitely gorgeous around here. They were drowned in lush green grass that looked like it’d all been attended to personally. It looked like something out of an environmentalist’s dream.

“Have you ever actually… ya know… met your great uncle?” Terry pops a question in the silence of the wind.

“Uh… nooooo… my daddy said that he never even saw him. He said after fought in that war he went straight to working with the Waynes.”

Terry scoffs.

“Great… just great,” Terry grumbles under his breath as the wind whips his hair.

 

After what seems like eons, Terry finally stumbles across a beautiful stone driveway that spans for miles. Nothing but evergreen trees line the path. Upon turning onto it, the whole driveway turns into its own forest. It is not long before the duo cannot see anything past these evergreens. The Wayne family must really like their home secluded. This, as Terry feared, went gravely against his chances with this day ended without him being in jail or dead. Clearly they enjoyed their privacy, and here he comes, a low class pizza boy from Detroit, Michigan with a girl that they will probably suspect he kidnapped. The day just kept getting better for him it seemed.

After a few minutes, Terry finally reached an iron gate that was as tall as a one story house. With reluctance, the young man roared down the bike to silence. He sat there for a few moments, solemnly enjoying the chirping of the birds and the overgrown nature scene about him.

“Hey, you ready Dapne?” Terry called out behind him.

“Yeah.. I guess. I’m kinda scared,” She honestly admits, unhooking from his waist and sprawling down off the bike.

Terry sighs heavily, staring out at the enormous mansion across the interminable lawn.

“Me too kid. Me too…,” He murmurs, slowly getting off the bike.

The awkward duo approach the gate, staring at it blankly like deer in the headlights.

“Uh… how do we…,” Dapne begins.

“Ya know, I really have no clue.” Terry reads her thoughts, not knowing how to get in either. Graves rubs his eyes, realizing he hadn’t slept. The fatigue was suddenly setting in. Terry secretly reached up under his black aviation coat to feel the wraps on his bicep. Since he hadn’t slept, he still hadn’t recovered any of his energy. This meant that the Dusk suit couldn’t properly heal him like it usually does. He had to make do with what he had and keep going.

“What’s this thingy?” Dapne chirps, running over to some sort of black panel on the brick support of the gate.

“Uh, I don’t think you should be touching that,” Terry calmly states, nursing his shoulder secretively.

Graves instead spots someone out in the lawn. In what looked like a flower garden, was a woman with strawberry blonde hair tending to the plants. He squinted hard to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating from his lack of sleep. Upon confirming his actual sighting, he turned to Dapne with a smile.

“See, we don’t need to mess with whatever expensive thing that is. There’s someone over there!” Terry finds himself chirping like a child.

“Hey! ‘Scuse me, Miss?!” Terry shouts, cupping his “X” gloved hands around his mouth to propel his voice. The two stand in a tense silence at the gate to Wayne Manor. Dapne stays close to Terry, awaiting the response of the woman.

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Bloom Rose

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Female Posts : 3
Age : 21
Location : Gotham

PostSubject: Re: White, Red, and Black [Rose/Open]   Wed May 06, 2015 1:19 am

Rosie heard a below from the gates. “Hey! ‘Scuse me, Miss!” She turned and found a young man with long hair and a cargo jacket on with a little blonde girl hiding behind him. She stopped water her flowers and placed the watering can down.
Alfred should have opened the gates.
She walks over to the gate and smiles warmly to the strangers. The young man smiles back at her and holds the little girl’s shoulders. “Hello. I am Terry and this is Daphne. She says her uncle lives her.” Rosie opens the gate manually and kneels down to the little girl. She smiles warmly and looks up at Terry.
“What is his name?” Rosie smiled and tried hiding how puzzled she was because she knew that Bruce did not have a blood brother and Dick didn’t have any children. Even if he did this girl couldn’t be his, she was about five or six. Dick was 19 and that would have made him a father at 13. Rosie shook her head and the thought of Dick cheating on her. She did not want to grow angry.
“His name is Alfred. My daddy’s name is Wilfred. I am sure Uncle Alfred will know me by my father’s name.” Daphne looked down at her shoes. She looked tired and worn out. Rosie placed a hand on her shoulder, warmly and let out a little chuckle.
“Well, we will have to go see now won’t we Daphne.” Rosie puts her hands under Daphne’s arms and hoists her up. Daphne smiles and look at Rosie. Terry looks in disbelief, it’s like this young woman had her own way with kids and she definitely did not have the physique to carry one. But he was proven wrong when Rosie shifts Daphne to her left.
“Terry, I am Rosie Goldman. I live here.” She holds out her right hand and Terry shakes it smiling a little.
“Nice to meet you.” He sighs and looks at Daphne. “I must be going now?”
“Mr. Terry, don’t go yet.” Daphne reaches her little hand out as he tries turning away. “I want you to meet my uncle.”
Terry sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and looks at the two girls in front of him. He couldn’t say no to the five year old. He smiles and chuckles. Walking forward without a word. Rosie shuts the gate behind them and walks up to the door with Daphne at her hip. “So Daphne, are you hungry?”
Daphne smiles and nuzzles into the strawberry blonde mess of curls. Rosie smiles and walks cautiously up to the doors that seemed to be opening. Terry walked behind them as far back as he could. He felt extremely uncomfortable coming up to a stranger but he was lucky Rosie was this sweet and kind.
There was an older gentleman at the door. He looked in shock and awe at the child. Like he has somehow seen her before but not remembering when and where. She knew the face but not the name. It made him wonder what she was doing here and why Rosie had her carried on her hip. He did not know the young man behind them.
“Alfred, this is Daphne and Terry. Daphne says she is your relative, her father’s name is William Pennyworth?” Rosie continued to look at the older gentleman with hope. Terry looked at Rosie’s face and tried to comprehend why she cared so much for a child she just met. She was too young to be a mother. Maybe not… Her looks were deceiving as it is…
“Ah, that’s my brother. This is his daughter, I knew her face from somewhere.” He smiles warmly, “I know what happened Daphne and I am sorry… You are welcome here as long as Ms. Goldman can take care of you. You see, I take care of everyone here and Ms. Goldman is outstanding. She looked after a young boy here a few years ago.”
There was a brief silence and Alfred stepped aside and welcomed them into Wayne Manor. Terry entered cautiously as Rosie went into the kitchen with Daphne. The little girl awed in amazement of the mansion. The little one held onto Rosie as she giggled.
“What would you like to eat Daphne?” She sets her down on a stool and smiles at the girl.
“A sandwich would be tasty!” She smiles and looks at her feet. Then there was a tall build young man in the door way and Daphne froze. Rosie just laughed and said, “Honey do not scare our new guest. This is Alfred’s niece and she will be staying here for a while and I will take care of her. Daphne, this is my boyfriend, Dick.” Rosie ruffles around and scraps up a peanut butter and jam sandwich for the girl. Placing the plate in front of her and giving her a water.
“Hello.” He smiles a little and walks over to Rosie.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet you Dick,” She stuffs her face and continues to munch on the freshly made sandwich.
“Rose,” Dick grabs her arm gently, “Does Bruce know?” He looked at her concerned. He did not want him to grow angry or even worse, furious with them.
“Honey, it will be fine.” Rosie looks at the girl and smiles. It reminded her of taking care of Jason and it made her heart and eyes swell. She shakes her head and Dick looks at her, he knew what she felt. He too lost someone but for her, it was her losing her child that made it the worst experience to go through… It has not been long. Maybe a couple months or so. Regardless, Rosie continued on with her days as a hero and still felt the heaviness of Jason’s death and the new mystery of who this murderer was going around Gotham killing people in drug lines.
“Ms. Goldman, Master Richard.” Alfred peered his head into the kitchen door way. “Mr. Terry Groves must be on his way.”
“I will tell him thank you.” Rosie looks back at Daphne, “I will be right back dear.”
Rosie walks towards Terry and smiles, holding out her hand. He shakes it firmly as she feels muscles tense and Dick’s protective aurora fills the room. Terry just chuckles, “Stay in touch friend. I live in Detroit and I expect a post card now and then.”
“Likewise Terry. Thank you for bringing Daphne here. I promise to take care of her.”
“Thank you. Good evening to you all.” Terry lets go of Rosie’s hand and does a little wave on his way out. There was something about him, something special that made Rosie hope she will see him again but hopefully as the Terry she felt present with her. The intercom buzzed. “Rosie, Dick I need to see you. Now.” Bruce firmly echoed over the intercom system by the door. It was coming from the bat cave.
Rosie and Dick traveled to the hidden doors in the study. Rosie rushes in first and very prepared to feel the wrath of bringing in a stranger into their home. Someone who could possibly foil everything but no. There was familiar pictures of a red mask and a dark silhouette of a man, the man Rosie saw a few nights before. Each shot was taken at different times throughout Gotham and Bruce sat at his computer, in his Batman costume, and waited for Rosie and Dick. Rosie knew the little girl upstairs was at the least of Batman’s worries and sighed as he turned and looked at the two.
“Tonight I need patrols on the streets. I want you to keep a look out for this man, Red Hood, I want him captured alive. I will stay here. Rosie and Dick, go out tonight and in different spots. You will join up with a new hero of ours, her name is Jaybird and she will be helpful to you both. I believe you have already met her Rosie?”
Rosie smiled, she did know Jaybird. It was her best friend from class. College didn’t come easy enough and making friends was never Rosie’s expertise. But her and Jaelynn grew close and became friends. Rosie knew she would see her as a hero because she constantly was talking about being up late and being all broken inside and bruised. It was true, the petite Korean girl was smart, cunning, brave, and most importantly sassy. “Yes sir.”
“She will stay with you then, until tonight. Take care of that child and head out when she is asleep. Alfred can handle it from there.”

So it began, tracking down Red Hood. No one knew who he was, where he came from, or what his purpose was in Gotham. At this point Rosie knew something special was going on and she knew she would find out what.
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