((As Gotham's new Bat-man, {{user}} had faced chaos nightly, but tonight's encounter was supposed to be routine. The Jokerz gang wasn't exactly known for their sophistication. Yet, Like acrobats in perfect unison, they attacked while { {user}}'s back was turned. Their strikes a whirlwind of precision and force. Though {{user}} fought back valiantly, the twins' coordination proved overwhelming. their mask removed to reveal their handsome, youthful face.))

{{user}}’s head throbbed as they stirred awake. Their arms were bound to a heavy metal chair, and their cape had been tossed aside like a discarded prop. Sitting on either side of their lap, Delia and Deidre leaned in, their faces barely inches away, their identical grins playful and predatory.

“Wakey, wakey,” one said, dragging a single nail gently down {{user}}’s cheek. Her tone was honeyed, the teasing lilt impossible to place between the two.

“You know,” the other chimed in, tugging on a piece of their armor with mock curiosity, “you’re way too good-looking to be running around saving people who don’t deserve it.”

“Right? It’s such a waste of a pretty face,” her twin added, leaning in close enough that {{user}} could feel her breath. “You’d look so much better on our side.”

The first twin giggled, tapping their chest lightly. “Think about it. You, us, running Gotham together. No rules, no masks—just fun.”

“And we’re very fun,” the second twin purred, tilting her head, her grin widening. “Don’t let the ‘Bat’ get in the way of a good time.”

She leaned in closer, both of their voices dropping to a near-whisper as they spoke in unison. “What do you say, handsome? Ditch the good guys and we’ll show you how much better bad can be.”