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[Color=BB2A3C][INDENT][B][SUP][SUB][H3]GOTHAM, New Jersey / U.S.A.:[/H3][/SUB][/SUP][/B][/INDENT][hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]June 23[SUP]th[/SUP], 2018 - Time 19:17 | The Kane Ballroom - Gotham Heights[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT][/COLOR]
   [b][Color=BB2A3C]I[/color][/b]t had been roughly five months since Thea Deardren Queen returned home, rescued from being stranded and shipped wrecked upon an island in the Pacific for five years, and the eighteen year old had had enough of flashbulbs and cameras with microphones and cellphones shoved in her face. She had begrudgingly accompanied her mother to Gotham to attend a charity gala hosted by the first son of Gotham, Bruce Wayne. Not only had there been press outside the door to snap photographs and hopefully chat with beautiful elite of Gotham and from around the country, but there were also cameras inside to film the whole event. Of course, Thea knew this gala had absolutely nothing to do with her. Yet she couldn't help feel like there were eyes on her the whole time.

"Come on, dear," Moira Queen said in a low voice as she lifted her hand to lightly swat away some tiny specs of lint that had managed to cling the arm of Thea's bolero dress beaded, cuffed jacket. "Smile. Go mingle. Have some fun."

Thea did not look at her mother as the woman spoke. Instead her green eyes floated over the gigantic ballroom scanning and taking in her environment and all whom traveled through it. She stood there in her crimson sleeveless dress with the beaded U-neck, empire waist and cascading asymmetrical hem with the slide split upon the left clutching her purse. What scars on her body that could not be hidden by the dress or matching jacket she were either too faint to see or covered by makeup. She may have seemed relaxed to the average attendee as she occasionally flashed a polite smile to those whom greeted her. But, to the eye trained to read body language one could she she was on high alert. It wasn't that she knew something was about to happen. It was a trait learned during her time on the island. [i]Always be mindful of your surroundings.[/i]


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[hr][INDENT][sup][COLOR=SILVER]June 23t[SUP]th[/SUP], 2018 - Time 19:40 | The Kane Ballroom - Gotham Heights[/COLOR][/sup][/INDENT]

Minutes would drag by torturously for the young woman. Moira Queen had gone off to mingle with her Gotham City peers, the wealthy and businessmen, slowly trailing behind Bruce Wayne himself, yet with each step she inched closer to the billionaire owner of Wayne Industries. By contrast, Thea had only traveled along on wall on the ballroom with a thin champagne glass of fruity punch in hand. As Thea traveled along the outskirts of the ball she was stopped a handful of times by attendees. In two incidences she was stopped by men with reddish noses and slightly slurred speech, complimenting her beauty and asking her to dance. Thea managed to turn down both invitations and distract the gentlemen long enough to stealthily slip away each time. The third time she was stopped was by a couple who recognized her from the news a few months back. As they flooded her with questions a small group began encircling her. To escape, Thea simply reached into her purse and retrieved her phone, speed-dialing the head of security of Queen Industries. [Color=BB2A3C]"Excuse me. I have to take this,"[/color] she quickly told the invasive group.

"Hello? Thea?" came the deep, strong voice of John Thomas Diggle. "Is everything alright?"

[Color=BB2A3C]"Everything is fine,"[/color] she replied once she had put a number of steps between herself and the small group of oglers. [Color=BB2A3C]"In fact, you just saved me from an uncomfortable situation."[/color] From where she stood now Thea could now see the man of the hour, Mr Wayne.

"Then I'll be expecting a nice bonus this pay period," Diggle stated. "For that as well as [b]everything[/b] I've been doing for you lately."

His words brought a slight smirk to Thea's face which would be the only response she would give to his statement. [Color=BB2A3C]"How are you doing, John? Last I saw you weren't looking so hot."[/color] Thea's eyes watched Bruce Wayne as he was addressing someone hidden by other gala guests. The billionaire philanthropist suddenly answered his phone. Thea watched as his mood quickly changed from relaxed to one of concern, perhaps even anger.

"Not looking so hot. Yeah, that's hilarious," Diggle said over Thea's phone. "What the hell did you put in that chili, girl?"

[Color=BB2A3C]"It was my father's recipe. I--"[/color]

[color=#D3D3D3]"Everyone, evacuate immediately!"[/color] Bruce Wayne yelled with a voice that demanded attention just as the lights went out.

[Color=BB2A3C]"--got to go."[/color]

Thea ended the call and placed her phone in purse. There was obvious panic taking over the ballroom in the darkness. Screaming and shrieks of fright pierced the black. With the emergency lights kicking on the high-pitched voices unified into one collective gasp. Not five feet away from where Thea stood an older man with thick snow hair and a mustache that enveloped his top lip had a police issued sidearm aimed towards the intruder. [color=f5f5dc]"Don't even think about making a move... Batman?!"[/color]

[i][Color=BB2A3C]Batman?![/color][/i] Indeed there of the dark vigilante of Gotham in all his spooky glory holding Bruce Wayne hostage with an arm around the rich man's neck threatening to stab a batarang through his carotid artery. Amazingly Mr Wayne remained calm. He even seemed rather... annoyed? Impatient? Armed officers were scattered around the two while the gala attendees hung back, Moira stood not two point seven meters to the left behind the billionaire and his captor.

As Thea weighed her dwindling options a shot rang out. Yet it didn't seem to come from any of the guns in the room. The shot hit the Batman in the shoulder which allow Bruce Wayne to escape his captor's grip. Wayne ran screaming out a nearby exit, knees pumping high in the air. Immediately the police in attendance opened fire upon the often called Dark Knight. Most of the party-goers ran after Wayne or took his lead in trying to escape the ballroom as the bullets began to fly. Moira screamed for her daughter and reached out an arm only to be nearly trampled as she was forcibly shoved through a doorway. With her mother out of the harm's way the metaphoric ropes that tied Thea's hands had loosened somewhat. When the policemen began firing their weapons Thea ducked beside a nearby table. As the old man with the mustache ordered a ceasefire the eighteen year old reached into her purse wrapping her slender fingers around the black feathered weapon she had chosen to carry with tonight unbeknownst to her mother. After all, it was Gotham. With the guns silenced and the smoke slowly clearing from the room Thea's green eyes stared straight at where the Batman had stood.

And still he stood. Thea's remarkable eyes watched as the Batman's shoulder wound seemed to heal itself with liquid or plasma filling in the hole made by the bullet not unlike the liquid metal android in that Schwarzenegger movie. The Batman let loose an angry, animalistic roar. Bullets flew once more yet not from the guns of the police. They were coming from the Batman! Every piece of lead that had been fired upon him was now being released from his body at seemingly the same force and velocity back into the directions from which they came. Bodies of officers and socialites fell to the floor.

The Batman charged at the old policeman who fired his gun with no effect. Thea jumped into action, dropping her purse with weapon in hand. Thea ran a few steps towards the old man and leaped towards him while she threw the flechette, a steel projectile with a fanned tail that resmbled a little arrow and was approximately the size of a throwing knife, aiming for the mad Bat's neck. This particular flechette was customized with a needle point so when it hit its target it would inject said target with just enough sedative to put the average human male into a state of slumber. After what she had just witnessed she had her doubts about the Batman being human which is why she leapt at the mustached head of police with the intent to crash into him to knock him out of the Dark Knight's path.


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