The Pretender: a Sara Lance / Batwoman fanfiction

Pt. 03 / Nyx / Gotham Techno City

I wasn't exactly getting on well with the dresscode for the fancy restaurant and I wasn't getting on better with the dresscode for the party across the street either. All this outfit stuff on Earth is strange to me. Why do people even care about what they wear? Can't they just be naked? No, they have to complicate things because it's probably fun for them. Weird.

The shirt I had on had lived better times to be honest. And I also noticed a stain on the bottom of it, obviously from the Bolognese sauce. I examined the street looking for something useful. There it was, just a few meters from the club – a secondhand with loads of clothes. Bingo. No alarm went of after I broke the window and entered the dark room filled with hangers. Let's see what we have here. Dresses... no. Suits, long coats... no. In addition, bad guys almost always wear long dark coats. I'm not getting judged the moment I enter the party, you can forget that.

Oooooh, leather pants. Always wanted to try one of those. Hope they'd fit... and they did. I felt a bit like a sausage but those pants felt really good. Guess I can go with it tonight. Then some tank top and blue denim jacket. Bonus – it smelled nice. Maybe I should comb my hair a little bit but due to lack of gadgets (no haircomb) I only ran my fingers through my hair and tried to adjust the surfer's waves. Without luck. Whatever. Porn hair it is tonight.

The deep beats were loud enough to be heard from the outside of the club. Genesis. Oh, how adorable. Is it called Genesis because everything starts here? Or because only Jewish people are allowed in? Or because the sinners are expected to come attend parties here? We'll find out soon enough. The security guys at the entrance didn't bother to do a security check on me. I slightly changed their minds about it as I was walking inside, following the pulsing music.

Wow, it looked quite nice. Mostly because there was a round bar in front of me. Behind the bar there was a dance floor full of people immersed in the rave. To be honest, the repeating beats without proper melody were making me numb. But hey, Gotham's night life is improving, right?

I quickly found my way to the bar and took a seat.
"Well, hello gorgeous, what can I get you?" blonde woman, probably in her early twenties, stood in front of me and leaned over the bar. Not that I wanted to stare, but her shirt was probably too tight over her chest and I was afraid to get shot in my face by one of the buttons on that shirt.
- "Hi. Got some Jack in there?"
"Of course. Gimme a second."

The lady turned around and disappeared among other bartenders, working their asses off. The club was packed. As I was waiting for my drink, a girl suddenly stood next to me.

"Oh. My. God..."
Why does everyone involve God when speaking?
- "No, I prefer to be called Nyx." And I turned to face the girl.
She had a fancy golden / black dress on, dark hair in a loose pony tail and... a huge phone in her hand. Must have been one of those newest iPhones Max or what. I would use it as a desk for chopping vegetables.

"I love the color of your hair. Tell me, what products do you use? Who's your hairdresser?"
- "Ugh... Lillith. She does my hair." I told her the first name that came to my mind.
"Can you hook me up? I'm dying, your hairstyle really is epic."
- "Well.. yeah... thanks."

"I'm Mary. Mary Hamilton, nice to meet you."
She reached for my hand with hers.
- "Nyx." I shook her tiny, soft hand. This is what humans do, right?
"Nyx – and?"
- "What?"
"The last name?"
- "Just Nyx. Like Madonna or Prince or Pink."
"Ohhh sounds badass. I haven't seen you around, are you new here?"
- "Traveling."
"Work or pleasure?"
- "Both..."
"Where do you come from?"
- "Is this some kind of an interrogation?"
"No need to be rude, Nyxie..."
- "I'm from... uh... Sheol."
"Sounds exotic! Is it in Europe?"
- "Nailed it."
"Rad! We're international! Come, you have to meet my sister."
- "But wait..."