Post by Drake on Sept 12, 2014 23:10:28 GMT -5
Artemis collapsed onto the couch, unleashing a cloud of dust. She coughed a bit before the dust settled, leaving just her and her laptop alone in the open, antique, dojo-styled living room. Flipping open the screen, Artemis pondered what to Google first. Youtube? Watchtower.net? Or…
Nothing. She wouldn’t Google anything…because there was no Wi-Fi.
“Dad?” Artemis called to her father, who was currently making her a second dinner of the most luxurious food known to man: PB&J.
“Yes, Artemis,” Richard replied, finishing the sandwich and bringing it out on a worn, possibly two-year-old paper plate.
“There’s no Wi-Fi,” Artemis stated matter-of-factly.
“No indeed. I believe the Internet only clouds the brain from true serenity, and…”
“Dad.”
“Yes, Artemis?”
“There’s no Wi-Fi,” she repeated, “This is a problem. Even Mom allowed me to use the Internet. You can’t seriously…”
“Do not tell me how to act as a parent,” Richard interjected, “You are only 15. How could you possible know—“
“Dad, I lived with a psycho #$%^&--“
“Language.”
“ --For fifteen years,” Artemis continued, “Her sanest moment was letting me out of the house once for ten minutes after training for ten hours straight on my tenth birthday, and yet you’re the one crazy enough to still have no Wi-Fi in the 21st-freaking-century!”
“Artemis—“
“Please tell me you at least have a TV,” Artemis begged.
Richard paused, looked away and blushed, “I cannot say I do.”
Artemis fell back into the couch and sighed, massaging her temples, “This is going to be a long three years.”
Richard frowned upon his daughter, before setting the plate of food in her lap and sitting next to her. She peeked through her fingers at the food, before excitedly tearing into the messily made sandwich. Richard grimaced.
“Your mother certainly taught you how to eat,” Richard said.
“Was that a joke you just made?” Artemis said through a mouthful of food
“And I suppose I could consider getting…Wi-Fi,” Richard muttered the word distastefully.
Artemis’ jaw dropped, exposing a sight her father would have rather gone without, “Who are you and what have you done with my—you know what? Never mind. You can stay.”
Richard smirked, “But…”
“Always a ‘but,’” Artemis rolled her eyes.
“We must pass the time until then getting to know one another through the most graceful and relentlessly enjoyable form of entertainment: storytelling.” Richard finished, leaning back into the couch.
Artemis finished the sandwich, crumbs littered over her T-shit and jeans, “Fine. But you start first, Oh Wise Sensei.”
Richard was not amused by his daughter’s teasing, but he decided to continue on anyway, “Very well. Where should we start? The day I first encountered the Outlaws, or more specifically Wildcat? When I first met Jason Todd, the boy who would become—“
“BO-RING!” Artemis interrupted, turning to her father and moving into a cross-legged position, “Tell me how you and mom met.”
Richard was taken aback. That wasn’t precisely the story he wanted to lead with. In fact, he could have gone without Artemis ever hearing it, but she seemed intent on knowing.
“I certainly know where you got your bullheadedness,” Richard began the joke, before being interrupted by Artemis.
“Yeah, you.”
The redhead smiled slightly, “Good girl. So, you wish to know of the first time I met your mother?” Artemis nodded. Richard took a deep breath, and continued.
“It began nearly 17 years ago, in the snowy alps of Chicago--”
“Wow, exotic locale,” Artemis sarcastically said.
“Do you or do you not want to hear this story?”
“Sorry! Go on.”
Richard sighed, but continued, “As I said, it began in Chicago…”
-------
Richard flipped through the air, landing serenely on one leg in a crane position atop a snow-covered courtyard in the heart of a wintery mountain. Despite the frigid weather, the martial artist wore only a simple white tai kwon do robe and pants, contrasting sharply with the heavily dressed, black-wearing ninjas around him, all of whom lay unconscious in heaps throughout the courtyard. Richard did not smile as he surveyed his surroundings, a simple tune ringing into his ears through a set of headphones lying atop his strawberry-blonde hair.
This wasn’t right. Ted had sent him into the mountains specifically on a hunt for an assassin from the aptly named League of Assassins…a woman going by the name of Shiva. Not only was there no Shiva in sight, but the robes these men wore were not of the League. He’d been duped. But if Ted had been given the wrong intelligence, the only lingering question now would be why? What could somebody have to gain from this?
“You are strong, Dragon,” a feminine voice called from away, “Truly deserving of the title of the Most Deadly of the Fearsome Hand of Four.”
Richard looked up, surprised. He hadn’t sensed this woman’s presence, meaning she was skilled in the art of the shadows, of concealment. Obviously it must be Shiva…
But no, this woman wasn’t dressed in League garb. In fact, she wore something…peculiar. The eccentricity of her outfit would have made even Dinah’s silly Canary costume seem normal. The assassin was dressed in slim, tiger-patterned armor, with a mask and all. A single katana hung at her back, the golden hilt glinting in the weak sunlight.
“I do not go by that name any longer,” Richard declared, hands clenched into fists at his side.
“What? Dragon?” the woman teasingly pushed.
“No…the Hand. A Hand. My days of killing are over. Now, I repent for past sins,” Richard retorted, and to get answers, “Who are you? Surely not Shiva of the League of Assassins?”
The tiger assassin smiled slightly, stepping forward, “Oh no. I have no tie to the League, nor any other agency. My will is my own. I am Tigress.”
Richard matched her step-for-step, “I have not heard of you.”
“Then I’ve done my job well.”
“Not well enough. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Richard retorted, now picking up speed. Tigress followed suit.
“The other assassins were but a test. I am your real opponent, and you my short-lived target,” Tigress grinned wickedly, throwing two shurikens at Richard. The Dragon ducked, dodging the projectiles, and jumped into the air. Tigress leaped into the air as well.
Richard tried to roundhouse kick Tigress, but found himself knocked into the ground instead. He recovered quickly, crouching on one knee.
“You are fast,” he admitted.
“With you, it’s easy to appear as quick as a cheetah,” the young woman replied, drawing her katana, “And as powerful as a tiger!”
The two assassins leaped forward, ready for ultimate combat, a fight to the death…
----
“What happened after that?” Artemis wondered as her father stared off into space, now silent.
“…I am a bad father,” Richard whispered, standing from the couch.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Artemis hopped up, glancing around nervously. Was there an intruder? Who did she have to kill? Or worse…was it her mother?
“It’s nearly 11! Tomorrow’s your first day of school!” Richard said, staring worriedly at the analogue clock on the wall. “You must go to sleep!”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” the blonde girl muttered, “I’m nearly 16, Dad…”
“And still too young to make your own decisions! Now, got to bed!”
“But, Dad—“
“Go to bed, Artemis!”
The teen slunk away to her room, grumbling, “Even Mom let me stay up late...admittedly I was training, but still.”
Now alone, Richard Dragon stared off after his daughter. He’d seen the way Artemis had jumped at the slightest hint of a fight. He knew that murderous look in her eyes. Despite all he had hoped for, she took after her mother more than a little. Even he at his worst had never sought battle. Tigress, on the other hand, was impulsive and aggressive. Artemis was just as belligerent, only she lacked the experience Tigress had.
But she did have a father, and Richard wouldn’t fail her. No matter the prior training, no matter the instincts, Artemis would become a boon for not only ‘Haven, but the world.
This was his grandest mission.
This was his utmost desire.
He would not fail her.