History does not remember blood, it remembers names
Using Google Translate here, sorry for any spelling mistakes or inconsistencies 🗣‼️‼️
Tw: allusion to child prostitution, prostitution, death of a secondary character, abandonment of minors, allusion to negligence.
It wasn't always like this, you know.
You weren't like this when was younger, when mom would put you hair in those cute braids or dress you up to match her on dress-up Wednesdays, or even when she taught you how to put on makeup instead of buying the bike you wanted, one that you friend Michelle had. It was metallic blue, with white streamers hanging from the handlebars, and you still remembers it clear as the sun because that was the first time you felt envious of something foreign.
You was never blind to injustice, you saw it every day; at school when the teacher took you away recess because some brats weren't silent, at home when mom didn't give you dessert for some stupid reason, but the most recurrent one was the one that took the bread out of their mouths.
You understood it when you turned nine, when you woke and you beloved mother decided it was time for contribute to the household; On you birthday she took you to a fat old man, whom she said was his boss, he dressed you the way her mother dressed on a Wednesday and a Thursday and a Friday and a Saturday and a Sunday and she put so much makeup on you that you eyes burned.
She didn't want to do it, she wasn't going to do it, but when your boss comes to your home to demand protection money and sees you child, what else do you do but make things easier?
That's what adults love most.
She was not a bad mother, she was loving and protective, affectionate and self-sacrificing, but she was also a woman desperate to fulfill the most basic needs of a human, to eat and sleep safely one more night, and if she must use her little girl for that, may God forgive her on his last day.
And you loved her too, but not enough to intervene when you saw being pulled into a car, or asked her boss for help when others did, and you'll be damned if you refuses to be taken to the police station to take a statement, poor baby.
"Is in shock" they say that word a lot, even now "Leave in a foster home, there is no room in orphanages"
Like divine intervention, an old but royal gentleman like a general entered his life.
Alfred Pennyworth took you to a large house one day; He apologized for taking a while to find her, saying that he would never have expected that a child of Bruce Wayne would have been born in a prostitution ring and lived there for eleven years.
Suddenly you had a father and a brother, but it was like you didn't have them at all.
Bruce not a father, never a father was distant, like one of those men who only rented you to pretend to be a therapeutic doll, and Richard was...annoying, angry, lashing out at everyone all the time, a brat who left you without dessert because of his tantrums.
But you were good at something, at pleasing; It was never touched, thank God, but you're observant and you've learned a few tricks to cajole people.
That didn't work in them, not until Jason Todd came along.
He was better than Richard without a doubt, and for a few years he was you best friend; two peas in a pod, vanilla and chocolate, brothers of everything but blood, and for a time you found home in him.
And then Joker took him away.
You were never interested in being vigilante, dressing up as a traffic light and running across the roofs at night, but in those years you wished could have gone with him, to be a Robin just so you could avenge your brother.
Shortly after, Tim Drake arrived, Bruce's shadow, his little chameleon copying his movements, his gestures, his personality and you hated him with every part of your being.
At that time you stopped trying to bond with Bruce, you would never be his son, and quoting what he said;
"I don't have time, not now, not for you"
But yes for Barbara, yes for Stephenie, yes for that spawn of hell with whom you share blood, and yes for her adored daughter, Cassandra.
It was the straw that broke the camel's back, finding out that Jason, your brother Jason, had come back to life and never came to you, the only person who has entered your heart besides your mother, had abandoned you, betrayed you.
And then a metahuman arrives and they open the doors to him as if it were nothing?
Well, fuck them.
Although in reality, it was not your plan to return to your origin, who would have thought that finding your old friend Michelle in an alley after being thrown out of a van on the verge of death was going to give you the biggest reward in Gotham.
Loyalty.
Unlike you, Michelle did not have a millionaire father who claimed her like a carnival puppy, and her fate was no different from that of her dead mother, but she had contacts, people who knew things about more people and that a third spectator like you could use.
And if you learned anything in that damn mansion, it was to sweeten their words, caress egos and say what they want to hear, you learned to deceive and pretend, to disguise your intentions and attack without killing.
You learned to be a snake instead of a bat.
And like sweet karma, divine intervention or whatever you like to believe, starting your business from the brothel where your mother sold you by giving that fat bald guy to his enemies and taking his place, wasn't a bad way to start his story.
"Don't you think that's a brutal origin story?" You ask, looking with amusement at the infiltrated man now slowly bleeding out on your rug, Is it considered a fur rug if it's the skin of the past boss?
—Liar —he mutters in pain, writhing in pain and under the gaze of your cruel eyes — You killed them in cold blood! Your poisonous tongue made us destroy ourselves from within! Two-faced whore!
“I always like how creative they get when they’re dying” you reply, leaning back in your leather swivel chair, because no animal cruelty for you, you are not a monster “Anyway, I hear Ivy needs test subjects for her new fragrances, but I think you’d make a better fertilizer, Michelle dear”
Your right hand opens the door, where two men grab the traitor and take him out while he continues screaming, varying between cursing her and crying out for mercy "I hope it helps Pamela before the hyenas eat him"
Now you're Gotham's super predator, and your heart is hungry.