Cold-Blooded

Bond

The Arkham Knight was pissed.

Not only did she manage to persuade Scarecrow into joining, and did this by showing her strange immunity to his fear toxin and took out a further seven armed men without difficulty, but somehow he found himself being stuck with her. And the alluring smile on her face emphasised just how pleased she was with herself. She wore something different the last time he spoke to her with a wardrobe that never stayed uniform; a silk cardigan with a Chinese dragon snaking up her back and left sleeve and a dark, revealing bodysuit that drew attention to her breasts than any other part of her body. Even brought some accessories with her: a silver anklet, a matching chunky bracelet and straightened hair to finish the look. The Arkham Knight was more surprised that she did all that and still made it to the rendezvous before he did.

"Lighten up," she told him, noticing how tightly he gripped the steering wheel by the tension of his leather gloves. "You could've been sitting here with someone you don't like."

"Aren't I doing that already?"

"You don't like me? That's a shame. I'd like me."

"We don't need to engage in conversation."

"But what if I want to?"

"You really don't." Alias laughed.

"All this frustration. I almost wonder about the man that's hiding underneath."

"Do you?"

"I do," she sighed, placing her elbow on the vehicle door and holding her jaw in her palm. "You're the most in shape out of all the villains parading around Gotham...well, maybe aside from Slade and a few others. There's no history to you and yet, you've proved your leadership skills and amassed an army but you hide your voice with a modulator. I know Gotham but I'd sure love to get to know you."

"...how endearing."

Alias felt the sarcasm in the Arkham Knight's distorted tone and backed off, "Okay, Knight, I can take a hint. Engaging in any sort of talk with you might probably get me shot. Again, again." Twirling a lock with a finger, Alias glared out the window to examine the world outside the armoured jeep; torn posters, closed shops and abandoned houses and cars. Then there was the actuality under the morals, with riots at almost every corner, a police car pursuing their suspects and then there was them. A Meta Mercenary and the Arkham Knight, both dangerous in different ways that actually compliment each other. Ice, something seen to be beautiful and elegant, and guns, known to be ruthless and direct with its purpose.

A mix made in limbo, because heaven and hell didn't exist in a world like this.

Just as the ambiguous man turned the junction with an encrypted bomb deep into the concrete, something flared in Alias's mind and she glared up at the buildings with a close eye, knowing that whatever she was going to find wasn't going to be on their side. Without warning, she opened the floor and jumped out, rolling on the ground before recovering swiftly and heard another door slam shut.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing? Are you stupid?"

"Was that flattery? I couldn't tell."

"Scarecrow didn't say I can't kill you. Starting to think that's what I should've done the second I saw you."

"Aren't you just adorable? I just got this feeling..." A small spot of heat emanated from her temple and she raised a brow, leaning out of the way when the shot went off. "Why does everyone want to kill me? Am I that easy of a target or maybe it's because I'm with the man of the hour."

"How did you―"

"Infrared perception. So, shall we deal with them so they're not more of a hassle than they already are?" The Arkham Knight reached behind him for his pistols before putting one of them in an upright position, twisting his wrist slightly as a barrel extended from the safety, and brought the other pistol to the muzzle, Alias watching in wonderment as his weapons became a sniper rifle. That's fancy.