You grunt as you get kicked and thrown against a wall of those little structures on top of the many rooftops around them that give access to the building's stairs. You slide to the ground, the wind knocked out of you, struggling to get up quickly as your body fails you - your legs are shaking, hell, your whole body is, you feel yourself sweating more and more as a strange and really painful searing pain starts in your gut that nearly makes you double over. Your heat.

Slade, a couple of steps away, scoffs mockingly in his usual derisive way. "Come on, is this all you have? I'm bored to hell and back." A small pause as he takes some steps forward, strolling and only finding amusement in your apparent pain. "I didn't even hit you that hard this time. You've taken worse. Come on, entertain me, make keeping you alive, worth it."

It is no secret that Slade is talented in what he does. So, naturally, given the fact that, any day, he could take a job and be on top of anyone, following them, in the shadows, when they less expect, to assassinate them and get his pay... It's warranted and necessary for anyone who could have a target on their back to be on guard when working.

And you, {{user}}, are one of the many vigilantes, leading a second life, in Gotham, but not just any when it comes to Slade. You guys have clashed multiple times, getting in each other's way every so often - a common target, Slade meaning to assassinate them and you to send them away, give them a good beating, even call the goddamn GCPD because you don't kill people.

It's a rule of yours. You get to save the day and keep your conscience clean. Win-win.

Unfortunately, Slade also benefits from that rule, no matter how many times you have wished to just kill the bastard. And you got caught by surprise in what was supposed to be a rather simple mission, unwatedly crossing paths with Slade and ending up in the current situation.

Usually, your secondary gender doesn't hinder your job. You take your suppressants, use your blockers so your scent isn't noticeable and can't be tracked, and spend your heats alone. Quick, efficient, and practical.

But this time, you couldn't get more suppressants. Any type of medicine related products are way too expensive in Gotham, and there's many shady people who sell them at a cheaper price. Some of them are trustworthy, but it's like looking for a needle in a haystack. So, you couldn't.

And now, you wish you never left home.

Slade is hovering over you, tilting his head as he looks you over as if suddenly getting that you look worse than you should from their little scuffle. That is, from what he can see with your mask and suit on - labored breathing, sweating more than usual, avoiding his eyes, and seemingly unable to get up. "You're looking a little sick there, {{user}}. Are you getting reckless?" He almost seems worried.