[indent][u][b]October 28th, 11:03PM
Gotham City, New Jersey[/b][/u][/indent]

It had been surprisingly quiet couple of nights, once the whole Mudo issue was handled. With the graveyards having fancy new concrete slabs to keep the restless dead resting, the hospitals already having decided on burning bodies and ground bones, the street cops had returned to their patrols of Gotham. Surprisingly, some even did it with renewed vigor as if the city wasn’t a cesspool of corruption.

Of course, actions had repercussions. Zoey was only surprised at how long they took.

Despite his efforts at claiming a small bit of the efforts that were put forth, Mayor Murphy’s ratings had taken a bit of a hit. It was no surprise after the danger that the city was put in over greed - greed so intense that even a career politician like him was overshadowed by it. To be fair, that cargo Zoey sank [i]was[/i] pretty nice. Not that he’d know it was her, but to have his rating plummet on top of losing it? Let’s just say that the billionaire was looking over her shoulder.

Part of that may have been why she found herself driving this night. Usually Grim would already be on patrol, but aware of exactly what might be lurking? Well, Zoey may have been a little irrational wanting to make sure they didn’t come to her home, where both servants as well as her son slept. Besides, it was nice to just go out for a drive once in awhile, no thoughts of vigilantism on her mind. Quiet.

Turns out her bid was right. Driving along the highway in her snakeskin viper the road was almost deserted at the late hour, only the occasional car passing by. That’s what made the sudden appearance of two dark cars, light dimmed behind her all the more attention-grabbing. As soon as her steel-blue gaze caught sight of them in her rearview mirror Zoey’s slender fingers gripped the steering wheel all the tighter. She was tempted to just gun it and leave them in the dust, but another car of similar design getting on the on-ramp ahead of her and immediately positioning in front of her let her know they had accounted for that. Interesting. Not run of the mill thugs. 

Of course, she wasn’t a run of the mill rich girl either.

As soon as the car in front of her braked, no doubt to get her to either do so as well or lose control, Zoey [i]did[/i] gun it. The front of her viper, armored beyond what was expected for a mere civilian car, rammed into the back of the dark compact in front of her. It swerved from the sudden force, almost into the concrete barrier to their left but quickly adjusted. Of course when Zoey herself went to put more gas on one of the rear cars bumped into her tail, spinning the car.

For someone as into cars as her, Zoey had no problem adjusting into the pit. It helped that the Grimmobile was far harder to control with all the modifications to it. The third car, however, made the corrections moot as he rammed into the side of the snakeskin viper, slamming her car into the railing opposite the highway.

That probably scratched her paint. Asshole.

Flipping the car into reverse the powerful engine yanked itself away from the wall, and Zoey spun the wheel to get herself forward once more. The rubber of her tires squealed against the pavement as she took off, though didn’t quite gun it. The billionaire would rather not leave some hitmen to come after her another day.

Gunshots rang out, the redhead’s eyes taking in the marks on her back windshield. The bulletproof glass held up, as did the reinforced tires to keep them from popping. The three other cars had righted themselves however and were once more speeding after her. Flicking her gaze forward Zoey took note of the fact there were the red lights of more cars further up ahead. If she kept going straight she’d end up putting civilians in danger.

Ugh, vigilante ethics. Why couldn’t she just mount a flamethrower on all her cars, anyway? Stupid laws.

Putting on an abrupt burst of speed the snakeskin viper took a swerving right, entering the on-ramp to go across the approaching bridge. Connecting to Bludhaven. Great. With a roll of her eyes Zoey kept the speed on, just enough to stay ahead of the trio of cars without losing them. Bullets rang off the metal and glass of her car but she wasn’t too bothered.

The chase ran the length of the bridge, right into Bludhaven’s gates. What a wretched hive of scum and villainy, not that it was saying much considering that Zoey just came from Gotham. However, the good part of this was that there weren’t many cars being driven in Bludhaven, especially this late at night. Gangbangers more than likely, not to mention sky high crime rates meant cars left alone were more likely to be taken apart or jacked than driven. It was easy to lead her pursuers on a merry chase, right to a more abandoned part of town. Less people to be hurt.

Abruptly slamming on the brakes and spinning the wheel the viper turned in a burning circle, and with the trio of cars right on her tail -

[i]CRASH.[/i]

Yep, there we go. She was probably going to have a seat belt shaped bruise in the morning, but it meant little. The other car’s windshield was cracked, and the man hanging out the window shooting had been thrown. Safety first, kids.

Another slam against the back of her car made Zoey aware that it was now pinned between the two. Faster reaction times than she expected. A thoughtful hum vibrated through the car as Zoey glanced into her rear view once more. One of the cars had pinned her, the other pulling up alongside. Two men in the latter emerged, the driver going to circle to her own side. Both holding guns - and the two men behind her doing similar.

Zoey shrugged, and reached in her glove department. She had fought worse odds.

Her assailants, for their part, were downright impetuous; the Old Caernarvon Docklands in Bludhaven had been without power for decades, so there wasn’t a single light on the damned street, save for what reflected off the Avalon River from uptown. That was good, these kinds of things were a lot better done in the dark, especially when the locals knew better than to poke their heads into your business.

Hell, the boss-man might even crack ‘em a bonus for dumping her corpse in this shithole... After they had some fun of course- Had to pay her back for giving them such a hard time.

...That train of thought abruptly derailed as something whipped through the air and slammed into the jaw of the assassin approaching Zoey’s door with a loud, metallic [i]PING![/I], spraying blood and teeth all over her window as he staggered to the side.

“What the fu-?!” One of the two at the rear began to exclaim but was abruptly cut off as something loud and clearly [i]very angry[/i] plowed into the back of his knees, crunching them against the pavement and sending him tumbling face-first into the back-bumper of the car in front of him before it roughly snatched the knife from his belt and used it to stab the man next to him in the back of the leg, then the arm, then at least half a dozen times in the balls before turning back to him and planting the damned thing right underneath his collar-bone on the right and then grabbing his head and slamming it right back into the bumper of the car again.

The goon to Zoey’s right quickly spun around, gun at the ready to deal with... whatever the [i]hell[/i] was going on right now, but the damned thing rolled out of the way of his shots and ran up the other side of his original target’s car, barreling down on the man still picking himself back up after being hit in the face with an airborne piece of pipe.

How did he know it was a pipe? Because the figure rushing towards him abruptly picked it back up again and showed it to him. Up close. Straight to the bridge of the nose. And then again to the [i]other[/i] side of the jaw for good measure.

He didn’t get back up this time.

For a moment, Zoey could only take in the carnage that surrounded her car in mild surprise. The motions were quick, the screams blood curdling, the actions violent, but none of it directed to her surprisingly. Actually, she was pretty sure that was one person doing this. A small person, agile and ruthless.

Interesting.

The figure was outside her driver’s side window, and with little fear Zoey unlocked her door to open. Sliding out of the seat the redhead stood, a glint of steel in her hand. When the thug on the other side of the car whirled around to them on hearing the crack of his companion’s bone breaking, the billionaire merely glanced behind her.

With the reflexes and precision honed over years of vigilante work, one of the throwing knives she retrieved from her glove compartment went sailing, catching the man by the hand holding the gun. It dropped, firing off a round that pinged against her poor car’s paint job once more. The second flick of her wrist had another lodging into his throat, blood spurting out in great gushes - also across her window. Her staff wasn’t going to be happy cleaning this mess up.

Turning her gaze forward once more Zoey went to take in her ‘savior’, a thoughtful hum once more bubbling in her throat as she lowered her hand, two throwing knives left, to her side passively.

[color=IndianRed]”Fancy footwork.”[/color]

Kasimir’s ‘savior’, for his part, had simply stood there, hunched over and having pulled down the dirty rag that covered his face to suck in as much air into his tiny lungs as he possibly could… until she plunked a knife into the other guy’s throat with all the effort it took the average person to [i]breathe.[/i] That gave him pause; freezing him there, eyes opening wide beneath his goggles (revealing a dim orange light beneath) as he suddenly realized he’d made a [i]sliiiiight[/i] error in judgement here.

Just because he could [i]see[/i] the woman in the car earlier didn’t mean he was actually paying enough attention to her to pick up the all the knives she had stuffed up her sleeve.

...That she [i]still[/i] had stuffed up her sleeve.

[color=orangered][i]’Weeeeell, shit…’[/i][/color]

Gulping slightly and dancing his fingers across his lead pipe, the small figure, which began to look suspiciously more and more like a child the more he stood there, took a pensive step back and spoke-

[color=OrangeRed]“Yeah, well… it’s… a lot easier when they’re not paying attention…”[/color] The raggedly-clad figured finally responded, now [i]sounding[/i] suspiciously like a child too, before pausing a second time and pointing towards the woman’s sleeve [color=OrangeRed]“...You just... carry those around with you?” [/color]

 Perfectly sculpted red eyebrows drew together, a pensive expression coming over the redhead the longer she looked at this small figure. His goggles glowed, something her own did - tech? No, it was something … [i]else[/i].

Then he spoke, and Zoey’s eyes widened the slightest bit. What she had initially been ready to pass off as a short person who had come to her rescue, the billionaire quickly realized her error. Between his size, his voice, his [i]mannerisms[/i] made it very obvious. This was a [i]child[/i].

… A child who just murdered at least two people, possibly three if the wet gurgle of the man at his feet was any indication.

Forcing a slight smile to her lips, Zoey merely nodded to his question. She didn’t have to look at her sleeve to know it was still pulled down to her wrist, [i]should[/i] be concealing her weapons. With all the magic - her eyebrow twitched - in the world today, could he see them? Did he merely presume there were more after her previous actions?

[color=IndianRed]”You were still quite good.”[/color] A flick of her wrist had one of the blades ready, held between two fingers. She tossed it up and caught it by the bladed portion, holding it towards her young savior to show him - handle first, to not be threatening. [color=IndianRed]”As for these, only when I’m being chased by hitmen.”[/color] A slight quirk of her lips, a bit more of a smile at her joke. Zoey wasn’t … the best around children. Too jaded. Yet this one seemed just as blood soaked as her, and not just from these men.

[color=IndianRed]”So what does my savior go by?”[/color]

Hesitantly, and with no small amount of care, the boy gently plucked the offered knife from the woman’s fingers as she spoke, looking it over and deftly spinning it between his fingers a few times with the skill his enhanced dexterity allowed him, though when she asked his name, he stopped. Casting a weary glance down to the man at his feet and watching as his heart slowly wound down to a stop.

[color=orangered]”...Malcolm.”[/color] The boy stated after a moment’s hesitation, once he was sure they were the only ones around to hear, and handed the redhead back her knife, handle-out [color=orangered]”Though, uhh… people around here have started calling me ‘Watchdog’ for some reason… probably because of the whole ‘glowy eye’ thing and all.”[/color]

He let a little chuckle out at that, and scratched the back of his head, slightly more at ease.

[color=orangered]”...Speakin’ of, the hell are you doin’ in Blud, anyway?”[/color] The boy inquired with a tilt of his head [color=orangered]”You and your... [i]friends...[/i] are pretty clearly not from around here.”[/color] 

So it [i]was[/i] his eyes that glowed. Which reasonably meant he was possibly seeing under her sleeve. Zoey mentally catalogued that as she took her knife back, replacing it under the sleeve of her button up shirt. That of course led to wondering what else he could do, if it was a metagene or living here that had him able to take on the others.

Brave, either way.

[color=IndianRed]”Gotham.”[/color] Zoey offered in way of explanation for where she was from, before continuing on smoothly. [color=IndianRed]”Ran into some trouble on the highway. I thought this place would be abandoned of any bystanders, but … well, I suppose you aren’t really a bystander, are you, Malcolm? [i]Watchdog.[/i]”[/color] Another smile, polite.

[color=IndianRed]”My name is Zoey Kasimir.”[/color] A pause this time, thoughtful silence as the billionaire attempted to find the correct phrasing for her next question. [color=IndianRed]”I hate to pry, but I must ask … your parents…?”[/color] She trailed off, not wanting to presume. It was Bludhaven, after all.

Malcolm’s lip, visibly bruised and cut slightly from a fight earlier in the night, slowly turned downward in a frown at the redhead’s question,  tongue running across the teeth in his closed mouth as he tried to piece together an eloquent way to explain that rather... [i]touchy[/i] subject.

Breathing in, clearing his throat and slowly removing his goggles (only seemed fair, she wasn’t wearing a mask, after all), he cast his glowing eyes slightly off to the side as he answered.

[color=orangered]”Well, my mother tossed me into a dumpster pretty much as soon as she had me, so she never really mattered.”[/color] He began, a particularly bitter note to his voice, before pausing and visibly shrinking slightly [color=orangered]”As for my Old Man? Well, [i]he[/i] mattered… but he’s gone now.”[/color]

For a brief second, the lad cast his eyes downward. There was a slight sniffle, a slight shake of his head and finally an affirmative grunt as he visibly forced something he very clearly didn’t want to feel or think about from bubbling to the surface.

...He wasn’t particularly good at it, mind you, as his eyes teared up slightly, but he held some semblance of his composure together, keeping it at just that instead of bawling his eyes out like a kid his age probably [i]should.[/i]

[color=orangered]”Sorry about that; Ya didn’t get chased all the way from Gotham just to hear my sob-story.”[/color] Malcolm finally apologized after a minute, awkwardly wiping his eyes and coughing into his fist to find his voice [color=orangered]”...First time I’ve actually talked to someone in... a while, so I’m a little [i]shitty[/i] at it.”[/color]

‘A while’ here meaning ‘Since February’, of course. But Zoey didn’t need to know that.

It was honestly more information than she was expecting, too. At first the billionaire was examining his eyes, taking in his state of dress. It didn’t surprise her that he was an orphan, just like David before she had taken him in. With how rocky the climate towards those with metagenes, not to mention the rise in vigilantism, his glowing eyes probably did little to help him either.

Then there was the sniffle. Zoey’s posture straightened up as soon as she heard it, staring down at him with soft eyes. The redhead would be the first to admit she was awfully protective, of those she loved mostly, but children as well. It was the reason she had taken David in, when he just wouldn’t quit trying to help the people of Gotham.

Now here was a boy with no future, no options, alone.

[color=IndianRed]”It’s alright,”[/color] The billionaire finally said, voice surprisingly gentle considering the death they were surrounded by. It wasn’t hard to determine that he had no one, not a foster family or anything, if he hadn’t talked to people in awhile. That wasn’t hard to figure out. [color=IndianRed]”You haven’t slept in awhile, have you?”[/color] Zoey reached up, tapping just underneath her own eye.

[color=IndianRed]”Makeup.”[/color] She added on, as explanation for how it was so easy to tell. Her own eyes had the marks of sleepless nights, of hours spent denying the basic human function. However her steel-blue gaze lingered on his own glowing orange one, contemplating. She couldn’t seriously be considering this, could she? It took so much effort to convince herself to even let [i]David[/i] in, but then again maybe her son’s presence on her life is what made this decision so much easier.

Maybe it was the blood and bruises on Malcolm. Maybe it was how small he was. Either way, she needed to know more first.

[color=IndianRed]”What’s your metagene, Malcolm?”[/color] The billionaire finally asked, gesturing to his eyes.
 
[color=orangered]”My what?”[/color] Malcolm inquired with a raised brow, clearly puzzled by this new word, but catching on when Zoey pointed towards his eyes [color=orangered]”Oh, well, I uhh… I can see… pretty much everything.”[/color]

The boy paused for minute as he racked his brain for a better way of phrasing that, biting his lip in thought before continuing.

[color=orangered]”I can see through walls, I can see heat… I can even see [i]sound[/i] and the power running from both your phones’ batteries.”[/color] He added with a small shrug and a scratch of his head  [color=orangered]”Hell, I can even read you some of the license plates from [i]your[/i] side of the bridge- I literally saw you coming from miles away.”[/color] 

That was … concerning. Amazing, but concerning. Zoey couldn’t help but hum thoughtfully, her eyebrows furrowing. If he accepted her offer he would know who she was immediately, able to see through walls as he could. The giant lab beneath the castle wasn’t exactly something to be glanced over.

It didn’t matter. She couldn’t just leave him when she had the ability to help - plus from the roughed up way he looked, it seemed his sight only helped him somewhat. He could use training, if he was going to do this - as much as Zoey was reluctant to encourage [i]another[/i] person to take up this line of work.

[color=IndianRed]”And when you saw it you stepped in, because you could,”[/color] The billionaire finally said thoughtfully, taking a step closer. She kneeled down, examining his face - his eyes. He could use with some cleaning up too, it was a wonder he didn’t have an infection from how filthy he was with what was no doubt a myriad of nicks. [color=IndianRed]”I’d like to return the help you gave me, if you’ll let me. My son was like you once, alone on the streets and just wanting to help others.”[/color]

The small one’s head tilted to the side slightly at that.

[color=orangered]”Ok… what exactly did you have in mind, Miss Kasimir?”[/color] 

A grin lit up Zoey’s face at not being outright denied, and she abruptly withdrew one of her phones - the one with a wolf’s head icon stamped into the metal case. Her thumb flicked across the screen.

[color=IndianRed]”There’s no one around except you and me, right Malcolm?”[/color] She questioned, glancing to the boy.

[color=orangered]”Nope. Just you, me and a colony a dockrats that’re probably gonna be eating these dead guys later.”[/color] Malcolm responded with a raised brow and after a quick glance around.

[color=IndianRed]”Great. So, to your earlier question - a place to sleep, clean up, maybe some training from the crazy lady with knives.”[/color] Zoey stood once more, leaving Malcolm to retrieve her two throwing knives from the rapidly cooling body of the man on the other side of her viper before returning to stand before Malcolm. [color=IndianRed]”I don’t really enjoy the thought of someone as young as you running around the streets doing what you’re doing, I’d in fact prefer you didn’t, but I admit that some people can’t help the call. My son’s the same way. So am I.”[/color] The billionaire glanced back towards Gotham, eyes to the sky.

[color=IndianRed]”It’s the least I could do.”[/color] The smog above Bludhaven parted, the distance between it and Gotham traversed in an instant with the powerful magitech engine installed in the Grim Jet. Another jab of Zoey’s thumb against her phone and the aircraft lowered, hovering before settling on an adequately empty space nearby. The black metal hull was half hidden in the darkness of the area, but the slightest gleam of light caught off the silver engraving of the wolf’s head on the edge. [color=IndianRed]”... One vigilante to another.”[/color]

For his part, Malcolm just stood there, mouth agape and eyes frozen in a comical expression as the massive, flying hunk of metal set itself down on the roadway not far from them. Eyes glued to the silver wolf’s-head insignia engraved on the side, his brain slowly connecting the dots and realizing just [i]who[/i] he’d [i]really[/i] been talking to this entire time.

[color=orangered]”...Holy. Fucking. Shit.”[/color] He finally managed, his head turning slowly back towards Zoey [color=orangered]”You’re kidding, right?”[/color]

Of all the ways he’d thought his day was going to pan out; riding with freaking [i]Grim[/i] in a big goddamn jet honestly hadn’t occurred to him.

[color=IndianRed]”Language.”[/color]