Clothed in our grief

Chapter one

People around your father had a habit of being killed.

That's why you have nothing to do with him, only staying with your mother and her husband. You were aware that not everybody's parents loved each other, and you were okay with that. Your mother and her husband loved each other, and they raised you. Making him your real father, not your biological father though. You know your father loved you, and he had his reasons for giving you up. You even had a sister that you've never even met, she's only related to you on your father's side, though. But the two of you can't ever meet for the safety of not just you, but her too. From what you know, she's not even in America. So it's unlikely you'd ever see her. Leaving the two of you separated, but safe. Safe away from the people your biological father is around. Safe from the bad things he tends to get involved with. Safe from anything in harm's way, living normal lives. You were a smart kid, and a very physical one as well. You're going to be starting freshmen year soon, and starting highschool really excited you. Especially when you live such a normal and safe life.

But then you moved to Gotham with your mother and her husband. Why make such a stupid decision? You got a scholarship. To where? Only Gotham Academy, where you could get not only a better education, but more chances to perform the skills at national tournaments that the school had to offer. What extra curricular activity did you take up? Fencing. It was hard enough as it was to find a public school that had fencing as an after hours sport, but Gotham Academy definitely has it, among other sports you were wanting to take a look at.

Why fencing? Before your father left, he wanted to make sure you got the most out of elf defense, only to go to an extent of having a woman teach you how to handle a sword. She was a friend of your father's, saying she owed him a favor. And that favor ended up being how to teach you to defend yourself. That's how it started, until she went behind your father's back out of some sick form of amusement towards you and taught you more than any seven year old should have known.

Her name was Taila. Though you never saw or spoke to your father during the entire ordeal, he kept all contact with you off limits. In fear that he would be the bright arrow that points to an opening to you being hurt, or put in danger. Placing you in Talia's care for a year may not have been the smartest choice in terms of influence, but it kept you safe and kept you with information that would keep you safe.

You understand why your father left, and at the age of fiteen, that you are now, you're completely okay with everything. You have a happy family, everybody is safe, your mother is expecting a child, which means you're going to have a baby brother. Or sister, but you hope you have a brother. Nobody to steal your clothes.

You were happy. Yes, leaving all your friends in Portland was hard.Some of your friends were very questionable. For an example, one of your friends put glitter in her mothers urn. Another one of your friends smashed a bottle of wine against a fire hydrant and then threatened a mugger with it.This is the same girl who picked up a chair and started attacking someone who wouldn't leave you alone, even though you could have defended yourself quite fine. You had friends that may or may not be getting into drugs, being in Portland meant it was easy to get pot. You can't exactly say you see the appeal, but maybe leaving Portland wasn't a great idea. As young as you and your friends were, you all did some questionable things. Now, you've never smoked. You've never gotten into a real downright fist fight. You've never stolen anything, you've never drank any alcoholic beverages unless it was given to you by a parent on news years eve, or something. You didn't live in a big house, but you didn't live in a small house. Some of your friends are okay, but some of them you truly worry for. Just barely staying out of juvie, everyone saw you as the mother in the group. That one mom friend.

Portland was normal. Okay, so that's a goddamn lie. Portland is far from normal. From a parade that included men wearing nothing while racing down the treet on their bikes, to odd occurances were people get soaked in neon bubbles. Even some of the religious things were quite odd. One of your friends was a wiccan, with very religious parents. It was so cool and interesting, considering who your father is. But what your father does compared to the wiccan religion? That's completely different. Things like Sun fest during the summer, Fall Equinox, you've seen your fair share amount of topless women for your entire life.

But the best part about Portland that made you almost mistake it for normal?

No vigilantes. No nut job criminals, no superpowered mutants, no aliens, no brooding men dressed in black, just police. People who were meant to take care of the crime. Sure, every now and then there would be acts of vigilantism. You're slightly guilty of it yourself. Though that was only on one occasion, and no matter how great the rush felt? You don't think you're going to see yourself another person down just to bring them to justice. That was a one time thing, and you did that out of anger. Anger for what could have happened to your best friend. 

Gotham was known not just for it's crime, but it's vigilantes. Two in particular.

Batman and Robin.