[Color=SLATEGRAY][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]P A S T[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][/COLOR]
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[Color=DARKORANGE][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]G O T H A M   C I T Y:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]June 23[SUP]rd[/SUP], 2018 - 18:27 | Archie Goodwin International Airport - Outskirts of Gotham[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
[INDENT][INDENT]Gotham had a certain smell.

Rose knew it as soon as she had stepped off the aircraft. The familiar air, laden with the smell of corroded metal oozing out of ancient steam pipes that gave the city a sense of life, allowing the streets beneath her feet to freely breathe. They exhaled, a painful hiss echoing through the tight alleyways as a new cloud of steam rose to meet the cold night air. Gotham’s seemingly perpetual fog hung low over the city as Rose collected her luggage from the private charter and departed Archie Goodwin International. 

The decision to come back to Gotham had been a somewhat inspired one, but not one easily made. For years Rose had been haunted by this city, the cost of living here at been too high as a child. But after all the lives she had seen broken by the lack of a parent, more specifically a mother, Rose had returned to the city that had cost her the life of her own mother.

The Batman was growing old, Rose wasn’t dumb. While she might not have been the ‘World’s Greatest Detective’ even she could piece together that the Bat was only human. Her father had told her such. And if Batman wasn’t able to protect Gotham, then someone would need to.

For some reason, that idea called to her.

Her father had long suspected the true identity of the Bat, in his last days he had divulged his suspicions to Rose. It was rather underwhelming and all together predictable but Rose had to find out for herself.

If Bruce Wayne was the Batman.

Slade had safe-houses around the globe. Rose couldn’t blame him, an international assassin wanted in nearly every country, she would do the same in the her father’s shoes. He had after all taught her to, and Gotham, was no exception to the rule as Rose had discovered. Located only blocks from where she had lived with her mother, Slade had used the safehouse to keep an eye on his daughter and while the assassin rarely found himself in Gotham due to the presence of the big, bad, Bat, Wintergreen had lived here for several years.

His cologne still lingered in the air, Rose noted as the door creaked open. The dimly lit hallway shone into the penthouse apartment, illuminating a sliver of the rather spartan interior. Neither Wintergreen nor her father had ever desired comfort. Just a cot to sleep when necessary and a place to store spare munitions and weapons.

Speaking of weapons.

Rose opened the closet, a low whistle escaping her pursed lips as she picked up the closest rifle to her.  Despite the years, the weapons were in pristine condition, if anything it confirmed Rose’s suspicions that Wintergreen was still out there somewhere, operating on his own.

Brushing her silver hair back, Rose removed her eye patch as she pulled her cellphone from the back pocket of her ripped jeans. Googling Bruce Wayne brought up more results than Rose would have ever cared to browse. Billionaire playboys were hardly exciting to Rose, men who dressed up as giant bats, that at least made her want to uncross her legs.

Ever the fashionably late, Wayne had arrived to the gala with the same gimmicks as he always had. Supermodels on either arm, with a supermodel on their spare arm. It was utterly predictable, rehearsed even and it was the primary reason why Rose had chosen to indulge Slade’s hunch.

Stripping out of her civilian clothes, Rose pulled the chainlink mail over her chest, before strapping on the kevlar pants and holstering her weapons. Climbing out of the window, no doubt designed by Slade and Wintergreen for this exact purpose, Rose took off across the rooftops towards Gotham Heights. 

Using the combined efforts of her metahuman abilities and energized bo-staff, Rose vaulted from rooftop to car roof, to rooftop again across the city before arriving outside the Kane Ballroom. Laying down on the flat, gravel rooftop of the adjacent building, Rose pulled her carbine rifle from her back, placing the telescopic scope against her good eye as she observed the gala’s attendants.

It was then everything got interesting.

Within seconds of locating Bruce Wayne, the building lost power and as the emergency lights came on, none other than Gotham’s Dark Knight had the billionaire playboy at his mercy. Rose felt a lurch in her stomach as the two men she had come to prove were the same were suddenly in the same room. Deathstroke was rarely wrong, even more so when it came to reading a person.

[COLOR=DARKORANGE][B]“So let’s [I]fuckin’[/I] see if you are the Bat.”[/B][/COLOR] Rose muttered to herself as she moved the barrel of the gun, the shot aligned perfectly for the Batman’s shoulder as she pulled the trigger.[/INDENT][/INDENT]