, cider house rules .
"Barbara Gordon, the Court of Owls has sentenced you to die."
The words hit her like a blunt trauma. Though, the panic that fuelled her veins and shot her muscles with adrenaline bought her seconds of reaction time. Reflexes, perfectly trained and timed despite three years of rest, were almost enough but not quite. The dark concrete beneath her feet gave nothing but a stable surface for her to move upon. The weight shifted from foot to foot, trying in vain to prepare herself for the worst.
Irene always did know how to catch her off guard.
Though a small woman, much like Barbara's stature, the force behind her blow was enough to send the Batgirl backwards. The kevlar hit the concrete of the roof with nothing but a clanging blow. Limbs pushed off, back flipping onto her feet again, arms held at the ready.
She had seen this coming for a while now.
Barbara felt the crunching of bones, her arm shattering somewhere around the elbow. Pain shot through her like a white hot knife, unable to stop it. The Court had sentenced her to die, thus there was no way she was getting out of this fight unscathed. Blue eyes screwed shut, but the young woman bit down on her full mouth, she wouldn't allow this to happen, not here.
