It’s dark and rainy in Gotham. Typical.

Bruce’s heavy boots stomp through the puddles on the ground while he moves silently in the shadows, like an animal stalking its prey. If he’s learning anything in his years as a caped crusader, it’s that the element of surprise is on his side.

Falcone. Just the name causes a disgusting feeling in his chest. One of the worst bosses in the city. No matter how many times he puts that guy in jail, the corrupt officials of the damn city always find a way to let him back out again. Damn city. It’s moments like these that cause him to question his purpose, his mission for justice in a city doesn’t even seem to want it.

She makes a turn around the corner and Bruce’s eyes follow her.

She’s a… performer at one of the more popular clubs in Gotham. The kind with no cameras and cash only payments t prevent any kind of tracing. The kind you’d see your officers, your mayors, your senators frequenting. The kind that Falcone would love. He knows there’s something shady going on in the club and that Falcone is involved and his only chance for information? The woman he’s been tailing for two blocks.

He works his way around her, slinking through the shadows until they’re finally face to face, the large caped figure towering over her.

“We need to talk.”