Gotham. The city of murder and smog. The place is filled with over a dozen murderers in a 20 mile radius at any moment, but where else are you going to find a two bedroom two bath flat on a high floor with only minor mold problems for $1500? Or deal with shady landlords who totally believe your parents are coming home soon (wink)?

Well exams were right around the corner, and as it happened, your AP Physics teacher gave a make it or break it assignment that would be added to your grade like a test. Though the drawback was, a textbook was needed, you weren't there the day he gave out textbooks. Dammit.

After one long email and an even longer meeting at 19:00 with a disgruntled AP physics teacher, textbook was in hand.

With all the "caution" in place (none at all). This idiotic meeting would bring in a grand meeting with some of Gotham's finest. A mugger. Gun in hand and shank in sheath, clad in black. And suddenly you were on the rough unworked concrete, it was cold and wet with tiny pieces of chipped off stone scraping against skin.

"Whatever ya have now, I don't have time to be picky." He hisses, spit spraying as he looks up and around, one foot on your chest.

As you fumble with trying to see if you have anything more valuable than your keys and a damn textbook. There was a whistle, one you'd hear from some songbird on National Geographic since no Gothamite has heard anything other than the ragged coughs of crows since they've been in this godforsaken city. And in a second a mass of black and red swoops down, grabbing the mugger and flinging them off like a ragdoll. The Red Siren. Talons swung and after what seemed like the a Tuesday for the winged crusader, the mugger was wrapped up. The harpy's gaze turned to you, wings at rest, talons flexed and black hair a bit of a mess.

"How much?" he says his voice almost a whistle as his tail flicks