Work Text:
ISSUE #1
The Kings Landing City Police Department was an austere fortress of bureaucracy and tension, bathed in harsh fluorescent light that seemed to drain colour from everything it touched. The faint smell of old paperwork lingered; stale coffee, sweat, alcohol and whatnot hung in the air, mingling with the ever-present undertone of anxiety and determination.
The interrogation room was a stark contrast to the chaos outside. It was a small, dimly lit chamber with only a single table and two uncomfortable chairs. A large, one-way mirror—an intimidating Venetian glass dominated one wall, allowing unseen observers to scrutinize every twitch and bead of sweat on the suspect's face. The room's sparse, cold decor heightened the sense of isolation and pressure. The two seasoned officers Jaime Lannister and Bronn Blackwater stood at the corner, their faces etched with years of experience and countless late-night shifts. Their greying hair - Jaime's once golden and still silky, and Bronn's raven-black and always messy - and weathered visages told stories of a lifetime spent navigating KL's darkest alleys. Despite their age, their eyes still shone with a fierce determination and a hint of weariness. A girl clad in a graphite-grey, form-fitting tactical suit and Direwolf mask was waiting for interrogation. Lithe figure with fiery red hair taken into practical braid reaching her small back, exuded an air of confidence and purpose. Her sharp, sky-blue eyes scanned the room with a mix of intensity and curiosity. Any sane, hetero man would salivate at the sight of her if she weren't deadly dangerous. She moved with a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision.
The young, nervous uniformed officer has just entered. He shifted nervously on his feet, clearly feeling out of place with two seasoned veterans behind the glass. His wide eyes darted around, barely concealing his anxiety. The presence of Dire-Girl only intensified his unease as he tried to maintain his composure under her piercing gaze. The tension was palpable, but the two older men were already smirking. Handsome Jaime, hidden behind the fake glass, breathed deeply, trying to keep quiet. The young Officer sat down, shuffled the papers, rearranged two pens twice, and chose the blue one.
"She'll eat him for supper; just watch!" - told Bronn, a grizzled veteran with a chuckle that hinted at a long history of dark humour, keeping a watchful eye on the unfolding scene. The room was dimly lit, with the only light source being a flickering fluorescent bulb hanging from the ceiling.
"OK, Miss... I mean... Dire-Woman..." started newbie.
"Dire-GIRL, for God's sake! We're helping you save this blasted city every night, and you cannot even remember our nicknames?!"
"OK, Dire-Girl..."
"MISS Dire-Girl." she corrected.
"Miss Dire-Girl... What do you know about Batman?"
"Well, he's a mysterious guy, very serious and just, who, like me, helps keep city villains at bay. Sometimes, I wonder how he is able to fly with that stick."
"What stick, Miss Dire-Girl?" asked the puzzled officer.
"In his arse, obviously. I can't imagine a man, or a mysterious hero for that matter, being more serious and strict."
Bronn spilt coffee all over the fake mirror. Jaime tried to stop laughing. It was their mean little test for rookies — whenever Dire-Girl was testifying, they sent some newbie to talk with her. She NEVER disappoints! he thought.
"How does he look like? Do you remember...?"
"Anything more than an oversized bat on two legs? I'm sorry, no."
"I meant... new mask, new...
"Gadgets? There's nothing I can think of right now. But if you give me your card..." she responded with a seductive, sweet tone. Rookie coughed and asked one more question. "Maybe you could describe his voice?" he wanted at least to try to look professional.
Dire-Girl looked straight at the fake mirror.
"Batman's voice is low, deep, and dark," she started like a professional radio journalist, reading a criminal novel right on the air. "It is authoritative and commands respect. His voice has a mysterious, slightly raspy tone, which adds to its menace and gravity. Of course, Batman speaks clearly but in a concise manner, without unnecessary embellishments. His voice reflects his strong will and determination in his fight against evil." She ended a bit dreamily.
"You must be joking, Miss Dire-Girl."
She turned her eyes back to the newbie. "And why would you think so? I'm mocking, but it's true. His voice gives me chills. His voice is something else. It commands respect, and at the same time, it terrifies you. But that's what makes him so effective. Remember that."
"It sounds like..."
"I have a little crush on him? Maybe I am. Maybe I am..."
"Apologies, miss..." Rookie ran off the interrogation and stormed into the second room and looked at Bronn and Jaime, both red from suppressed laughter.
"Go back there, boy, or..." started Bronn. "Too late, mate... she fled the second he left the room," commented Jaime, almost crying with laughter.
***
Stannis Baratheon threw the comic book script on his desk, took a deep breath, and ruffled his neatly trimmed, slightly thinning hair. He was in good shape, but the ongoing divorce and toxic romance had taken their toll. The pressure of a publisher sending worse and worse scripts was not good for writer's block.
"Dire-Girl... Hmph! Dire-Girl... that's been done before, but..." He reached for his phone and dialled a number. "Robert? Yes, it's me! What am I doing at this hour?! I'm reading the script you sent me. Listen, is there a chance I could meet the author?"