Red Moon

In The Dark

Henri sighed and rubbed her face as she reread the blood test results. Of course, they were positive. The idiots she fought the night before were, in fact, hopped up on the unstable Bane steroids.

The unmasked vigilante threw back another shot of whiskey and thanked God she had enough initiative to take the day off from work. Selene sounded disappointed but the whine in the secretary's voice didn't influence Henri's decision.

When the informant left the results at the drop spot, Henrietta was hoping, praying, that they would be negative. That by some grace of God that the all those roiders were on some other drug, that it would be another person and another's problem.

God wasn't quite as gracious then.

To insure there was no incident of leaving the results in the house, Henri brought the papers straight to the Dark Side of the Moon before reading the results. She also snatched a bottle of liquor and a shot glass on the way down.

Either way she intended on getting sloshed before patrol.

The Dark Side of the Moon was a small building built into the side wall of the sewer system beneath the brownstone where Henrietta resided.

The brownstone was shallow, big enough for two bedrooms ( one master one guest) one full bathroom, a kitchen, and a living room. The bedrooms and bathroom were upstairs, the rest was down.

Where a closet was supposed to be was a stairwell, which led down to Moon's secret headquarters. It was like the inside of a brick box, really. It was over lit and flat with a very high ceiling. A wooden work branch was pressed up against the wall, covered in papers and blue prints, milk crates and boxes filled with half finished gadgets were shoved unceremoniously beneath it. A neater metal desk was next to it, with a desk lamp and wire baskets placed there. A cork board hung on the wall, newspaper clippings and posters hanging from it. On the other wall (the one that was next to the sewage water way) several filing cabinets were lined up; next to them was a metal rack, several white jumpsuits hanging on wire hangers, a shoe hanger hold all of the vigilante's weapons. In the corner was the Lunar Cycle, parked on a tarp and next to a large red tool chest. On the other was was a jut, a smaller box, which held a white tile bathroom, claustrophobicly small but well equipped for basic needs.

Since the top of the bathroom was the average 8 feet high, there was 12 feet of space between it and the ceiling. Henri placed a fold up bed and other sleeping items there in case of unexpected guest, or if she was too tired to go upstairs.

Which was quite often.

Currently, Henri was sitting at the clean metal desk with her head in her hands, trying to normalize her breathing. If those thugs really were on that steroid, then there must be another source. Not to mention that she didn't know who the head peddler was. Usually it wouldn't concern her, but seeing how that it was the main priority of her new partner, se decided to make it her business.

Speaking of her partner...

Henri struggled with deciding whether or not to reveal her identity to him. She had shown her previous partner her face, but then again, things with her last partner didn't end very well.

Henri squeezed her eyes closed in attempted to forget about Ink Blot. The last thing she needs is to think about her old friend.

She decided if Red Hood proved that he was worthy of her unwavering trust, then she'd show him Henri, the Dark Side of the Moon, everything. But of course he's have to be less of a dick.

Henri decided there was too little evidence and that she was too emotionally compromised (and drunk) to do any more investigation, and decided to trudge up the brick steps and hopefully take a nap on her couch in her cramped living room.