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[center][sub][h1][img]https://i.ibb.co/99z67WY5/qheader.png[/img]
[b][color=black] I S S U E  # 1[/color]
[color=cadetblue]I S S U E  # 1[/color][/b][/h1][/sub]
[i][sub][color=cadetblue][b]Two Months Ago...[/b][/color][/sub][/i][/center]
The cabin was exactly like it was the last time he had seen it. Chipped oak logs stacked on top of each other with moss stuck in between the cracks, a wooden bench hanging from chains bolted onto the roof of the patio. A window into the cabin showed that the lights were on and smoke rose from the chimney. He took in a breath and stepped up to the door, hesitating a moment before knocking.

A moment later, the door opened and before him stood Richard Dragon. The man's hair was starting to grey a bit now, a few more creases of aging on his face, but still the same man that had trained him. Dragon looked Vic in the eye and gave a grim nod. [color=orange][b]"I heard. About Hub City."[/b][/color]

Vic sighed. [color=cadetblue][b]"Yeah."[/b][/color]

Dragon raised a hand and placed it on Vic's shoulder. [color=orange][b]"I'm sorry."[/b][/color]

The two retreated into the cabin, Vic sitting at the dining table as Dragon grabbed a pot of tea and poured it into two cups on the table. He set the pot down and took a seat, taking a sip from his cup as he waited for Vic to speak. The younger man rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wipe away the lack of sleep. He hadn't slept in two days since he left Tot and Jackie at that hotel in Chicago. Took a bus up the border to Canada to see Dragon. He needed to. He needed the man's guidance at this transitory time.

[color=cadetblue][b]"I don't know what I'm going to do,"[/b][/color] Vic said, setting his hands on the table. [color=cadetblue][b]"I need you to tell me. Please."[/b][/color]

Dragon sighed. [color=orange][b]"I can't tell you what to do. You're your own man."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"I tried being my own man. I failed. I told myself that I'd save the city from itself and somehow it ended up worse than before."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"You did your [i]best[/i]. You saved lives. You were more than Hub City ever deserved. It's not your fault."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"It is. If I had been stronger, I could have prevented everything."[/b][/color]

Dragon shook his head. [color=orange][b]"Don't dwell on what you could have done."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"Can't help myself."[/b][/color]

The two sat in silence for a while, drinking their tea. The seconds turned to minutes which turned to hours spent in relative quiet. Vic racked his brain for any semblance of a plan. He had nothing left to do anymore. His whole life's work was gone. Was the Question even needed anymore? He was a failure, a sham of a hero who couldn't save his city from total anarchy.

What could he even do?

[color=orange][b]"Get some rest,"[/b][/color] Dragon said, rising from his chair. He gestured to the cot pressed against the wall. [color=orange][b]"You need it."[/b][/color]

Vic didn't object. He stood and made his way over to the cot, kicking his shoes off before falling onto it. He was out in minutes.

In his dreams, he was drowning in an ocean of blood. He pushed his way to the surface, gasping for air and scanning the horizon for any sign of land. He saw something in the distance, swimming as hard and as fast as he could to reach it. When he did, he climbed up and out of the blood, his muscles aching. He looked down only to find he was standing on a corpse. The ground was nothing but dead bodies stacked on top of each other, stretching out as far as he could see.

Vic woke with a start, cold sweat dripping from his face. He glanced out the window and saw the sky was a dark blue. Dawn was breaking. He rose from the cot and slipped his shoes on. Dragon was nowhere to be found. He walked to the door and pushed it open, stepping onto the patio and gazing out into the woods. Dragon was there on the edge of it, chopping away at firewood with an axe. Vic approached him.

[color=orange][b]"Good morning."[/b][/color] Dragon split the last log, setting the axe down against the tree stump. He took a rag out of his back pocket and wiped at his brow before sticking it back in his pocket.

[color=cadetblue][b]"Morning."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"I'll be getting breakfast ready here in a bit. You going to stick around for it?"[/b][/color]

Vic nodded.

The two went back into the cabin and after about fifteen minutes were seated at the table with plates of bacon and eggs. [color=orange][b]"Did you think of what you were going to do?"[/b][/color] Dragon asked.

Vic shook his head. [color=cadetblue][b]"Still don't have an idea."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"Have you considered becoming a nomad?"[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"... No, I haven't."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"You need to find a new purpose. Wandering could lead you to it. It did a lot of good for me when I was your age."[/b][/color]

Vic considered it. He hadn't exactly been a globetrotter before, spending most of his life in Hub City with the occasional trip across Illinois for work or other reasons. Dragon's home in Canada was the furthest he had gone from Illinois. Wandering the States in search of some kind of meaning, though? He... Wasn't opposed to the idea. Maybe it was what he should do.

[color=cadetblue][b]"Maybe... Maybe."[/b][/color]

[color=orange][b]"Don't forget: you're a butterfly. You'll find yourself a new flower to rest on."[/b][/color]

Vic smiled at that, the first time he had in days.

Yes. This is what he should do.
[hr][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/fBT4zgc/Huntress-2011-01-banner.png[/img]
[sub][color=slateblue][b][i]Present.[/i][/b][/color][/sub][/center]
There was a district of warehouses outside the city limits of Gotham, a few miles between the city and its sister city Bludhaven. It wasn't in use anymore, all of the buildings in varying states of disrepair ranging from mostly intact to fully collapsed. It was a good place for hiding out from the heat of a job or storing hot items, with the criminal elements of both nearby cities making use of the warehouses.

Huntress used her foot to set the kickstand of her motorcycle, getting off of it and looking over the warehouses that surrounded her on all sides. She had just finished tracking two guys from the Blockbuster gang from a bar in the west end of Gotham to here, tailing them discretely from a distance. For the last week she had been watching them, waiting for them to lead her to something substantial. Hopefully, tonight was the night.

Their car was just up ahead, a beat up Ford Pinto that had seen better days. A cargo truck was parked not far from it. She pulled out her grapnel gun and fired it at a pipe hanging off the side of the warehouse, zipping up to it and climbing the rest of the way up onto the roof. From there, she made her way to the skylight, looking down into the warehouse below. Crates of contraband were scattered around inside, the two men having joined a larger group that were moving the boxes.

Showtime.

Huntress hooks her grapnel gun's hook onto the lip of the skylight, rappelling down into the warehouse. No one had seen her yet. Time to make herself known. Raising her crossbow, she fired it at one of the thugs, the bolt piercing his thigh and sending him to the floor with a scream. The other thugs, five in all, twist their heads to look at her. She's on one in an instant, using her half extended quarterstaff as a baton and sending it into his skull.

One of them pulls a gun. Huntress grabs the one she just smacked in the head by the shoulders and twists his body around to shield her as a shot rings out, the bullet finding a home in his chest. She drops him and flings a throwing knife at the gunman, the blade piercing his hand and making him drop the pistol. Leaping forward, she extends her legs out and they plant themselves on his face, sending him to the floor.

The other thugs don't have guns, so they charge. She ducks under a haymaker, then sends a palm into his gut followed by a sweeping kick that floors him. Another one is almost on her, so she pulls her crossbow and fires a shot that embeds itself in his knee, making him fall to the ground. The last one has claimed a piece of pipe as a weapon. As she stands, he swings, and she backs away just slightly enough to avoid it. Following that up, she chops him on the throat then places a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him forward into a fist.

They're all down now. She takes a moment to catch her breath, when she hears footsteps behind her. She tosses a throwing knife in the direction of the footsteps without looking, turning her head to see-

[color=slateblue][b]"Whoa."[/b][/color]

[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/0ykFvfL5/does-she-see.png[/img][/center]

A man without a face, holding the blade between his fingers. She's stunned at the sight, but recovers quickly and levels her crossbow at his chest. [color=cadetblue][b]"I'm not your enemy,"[/b][/color] he says, stepping forward as he lets the knife fall.

[color=slateblue][b]"Who the hell are you, then?"[/b][/color] she asks, her crossbow still raised.

[color=cadetblue][b]"That,"[/b][/color] he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. [color=cadetblue][b]"Is the question."[/b][/color]

She racks her brain for any answers as to who the hell this cryptic asshole is, but her mind comes up blank. Hopefully he's a vigilante, but worst case scenario he's some up and coming supervillain she's gonna have to take down. Still, after another moment with no sign of attack from him, she lowers her crossbow and holsters it. [color=slateblue][b]"What are you here for? You're a bit late to the party."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"So it seems. But it's not over yet. The night's still young."[/b][/color] He steps up to one of the crates, prying the top off and looking inside. He gestures for Huntress to come look and she approaches, taking a glance into the crate to see countless tabs of Drops inside.

[color=slateblue][b]"There's enough Drops here to fill the river,"[/b][/color] she says, looking over at all the other crates in the warehouse. [color=slateblue][b]"Where are they manufacturing all of this?"[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"That's what we need to find out."[/b][/color]

[color=slateblue][b]"We? I don't seem to remember saying I'd work with you,"[/b][/color] Huntress says, crossing her arms.

The faceless man chuckles. [color=cadetblue][b]"Of course. But two heads are better than one. You should be able to see that."[/b][/color]

[color=slateblue][b]"I don't even know who you are."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"I already told you. I'm the Question."[/b][/color]

She grits her teeth a bit at that, finding herself frustrated with this jackass. Part of her wanted to put a bolt in between his no-eyes but despite being so damn annoying he hadn't done anything really wrong. [i]Yet[/i], at least. Maybe he could even be helpful. [color=slateblue][b]"... Fine. We work together on this. After that, we go our separate ways and you bother other people."[/b][/color]

[color=cadetblue][b]"Works for me. Now, let's see if one of our friends here can enlighten us."[/b][/color] He stalks over to one of the fallen men, the one clutching at the bolt in his knee. He kneels down to look the man in the eyes. [color=cadetblue][b]"Tell me: where are these drugs being made?"[/b][/color]

[b]"I ain't telling you shit, freak!"[/b] The thug spits on the Question's faceless visage. He raises a gloved hand and wipes it off.

[color=cadetblue][b]"Hurm."[/b][/color] The faceless vigilante stands, then presses his foot down on the man's knee. The crook lets out a cry of pain. [color=cadetblue][b]"Where are these drugs being made?"[/b][/color]

The man continues to cry out as the Question continues to press his foot down on the wound, writhing in pain with tears falling from his eyes. [b]"P-please! Stop!"[/b]

[color=cadetblue][b]"[i]Where are these drugs being made?[/i]"[/b][/color]

[b]"I-I'll tell you! I'll tell you!"[/b]

He doesn't take his foot off the man's knee, but he does lighten the force a bit. [color=cadetblue][b]"Good. Do it quick before I break your knee."[/b][/color]

[b]"W-we've got a lab in Bludhaven! An old factory south of the Blue Line! Pico Boulevard!"[/b]

[color=cadetblue][b]"Thank you for your cooperation,"[/b][/color] the Question says. He releases his foot from the man's knee and the man releases a gasp, before he sends his foot straight into his face and knocks him out.

Huntress, having sat by and watched the interrogation, finds herself more impressed than she'd like. Maybe this Question guy [i]would[/i] be helpful after all.

The Question steps forward, adjusting his coat before nodding at Huntress. [color=cadetblue][b]"Best get going, then. I'll call this in, have the cops come clean this up,"[/b][/color] he says, then begins to make his way to the exit.

Without another word, they take their leave.
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