His Every Interaction With Cat Woman Was Him Asking “is This How People Make Friends?” And Her Answering

She looks out across a world in chaos and frowns.

“It was brash”

“It was bold”

“It was impetuous”

“It was inspired”

They grow silent. An acknowledgement that no agreement is to be found in this place.

~

She says that she should kill him. She says so often, without humour. She says so as a woman who has killed hundreds across her lifetime and will no doubt kill hundreds more.

“You know more of me than anyone else does.” he confesses.

She hums.

“I could say the same to you.”

He grins and she can’t help but pity him. Connection was never necessary for her, but to watch this child suffer without it must be a tragedy beyond measure.

~

She tells him that she put poison in his drink. He sighs, tired, and walks outside. She hears him throwing up in the ally behind the abandoned building they had chosen for their meetings.

He comes back in with clothes just as clean and hair just as neat as when he left. He frowns at her but is happy to continue their conversation as it was.

“I’m going to hurt you one day.” she informs him. He rolls his eyes.

“You hurt me constantly,” he gestures to some bruises for effect, “At least this way I might be tough enough to survive what’s to come.”

She nods. With the sorts of enemies the boy tends to make he has a point.

Gwen would be characterised by anyone but herself as a prodigy with a sword. That would be, if she let anyone see what she can do.

She started beating Elyan when she was six. It took her far longer to beat her father for the first time but whenever she lost he would tell her that she just needed some time to get a little stronger. Some time to grow up.

Gwen beats her father for the first time when she’s fourteen. He smiles from where he’s lying on the floor with a knowing look.

“I told you so.” he manages, despite how winded he is.

She rolls her eyes and let’s the glow of pride set a fire in her chest.

~

Gwen is twenty-two years old and has been the Lady Morgana’s maid servant for a little under a year. She’s a prodigy at it and this time she does let people see. She spends all the time she has with Morgana and all the rest of it practicing with a sword in the forge’s yard.

It takes longer for anyone to notice than she thought it would.

She’s practising behind her father’s forge. Moving through the same jabs and cuts she’s repeated a thousand times before. It feels good, like it always does. It feels powerful.

“Well aren’t you full of surprises?” Lady Morgana calls wryly from the forge and Gwen almost drops her sword.

“You’re not supposed to be here.” she hisses, forgetting just about everything she’s ever learned about how to treat those of higher stations than hers. “Sorry.” she tags on the end, like that would stop a regular noble from having her beheaded for such words.

“Don’t be.” Morgana smiles slyly. “You could probably put Arthur on his arse with moves like those.”

Gwen is immensely lucky that Morgana isn’t a regular noble. “I’m sure that he would be a formidable opponent.” she says diplomatically.

Morgana grins, because she loves Arthur just like Gwen loves Elyan, but she isn’t meeting Gwen’s eyes and seems hesitant in a way that’s unlike her.

“Yes, milady?” Gwen prompts.

“I don’t suppose-“ Morgana’s eyes dart to the sword rack in the corner of the yard. “I don’t suppose you could teach me?”

Gwen smiles, relief flooding her. “Of course”

After all, it would hardly be proper for her to refuse a request from the Lady Morgana.

Cassandra Cain

Helen Oyeyemi, White Is for Witching // Legends of the Dark Knight (2021) #16 // Lidia Yuknavitch, The Chronology of Water: A Memoir // Susan Sontag, As Consciousness Is Harnessed to Flesh // Batman (2016) #52 //  Michael Kinnucan, The Gods show up // Lisa Peterson and Denis O'Hare, An Iliad // Cover for Detective Comics (2016) #1046, by Dan Mora // Yves Olade, Bloodsport // Batman: Damned #1 // Anne Carson, H of H Playbook //

my final piece for @gothamcityunmasked !! thank you for having me on as a mod and contributor!

“I would like to suggest a temporary truce.”

Luz has no idea how Hunter got in.

From the looks of bewilderment on Eda and Kings faces Luz is pretty sure that they’re in the same boat. The same very confused, very concerned boat that’s being tossed by the whims of the boiling sea.

Luz turns back to Hunter who’s looking at the three of them expectantly, waiting on a response.

“Hootyyyyyy,” Eda calls into the house. Hunter keeps just standing there and Luz pinches herself to make sure she isn’t dreaming.

Then there’s an owl coming out of the floor. At least some things are normal.

“Hello!”

“How is he here?” Eda demands, “Why is he here?”

“To offer a truce? It’s a very good truce, and I said that I would recommend it, and what better way to recommend it than letting him tell you all about it himself!” Hooty pauses to check if anyone’s nodding in agreement of his clearly very sound decision making process. He’s met by a stony silence and expressions of particularly strong disapproval.

For once he seems to read the room.

“Okay, you guys have lots to talk about, bye!” His face shoves itself through the floorboards back the way it came and a hole is left in the floor between Eda, King and Luz and Hunter. Luz imagines the hole widening into a chasm, it feels more appropriate.

“As I said,” Hunter continues slowly, “I’m here to propose a truce.”

Eda scoffs. King growls. Luz glares.

“And what common ground could we possibly find to build a truce over?” Eda asks icily.

Hunter takes a breath. “I was hoping we might work together to kill Kikimora.”

Huh.

“Okay then,” Eda starts, voice full in equal measure of interest and surprise. “I’m listening.”

^^^ the good shit

Once back on Earth, Doug starts his radio shows with “Hello, humans,” or maybe “Hello, humanity,” but he can’t bring himself to address the audience as “Dear Listeners,” anymore

Morgana and Merlin are in a cave together and they’re not fighting.

Neither of them are quite sure why. They’re definitely supposed to be fighting, but maybe that’s a reason in and of its self. Both of them have always been terrible at doing what they’re supposed to.

“We used to be friends.” Merlin says.

“You used to have a crush on me.” she snorts.

“Well you had a crush on me too.”

“I did not!” Morgana snaps. She manages to inject just enough offence into her voice that Merlin smiles at her a little like he used to before she learned how to hate.

“Well you would have if you’d known me.”

And, well, Morgana can’t say that he’s wrong exactly.

They keep not fighting. Morgana wonders if flirting is another word for truce.

So I enjoyed the batman a normal amount

brb crying about the fact that vaughn did NOT get to choose the thing that ate them