Two months have past since the
female team, the Birds of Prey, disassembled. I never wanted
to rebuild my team, but with my role in the JLA being short, I need a
new team.
With the JLA, Titans, and I
don’t know about Young Justice being busy fighting their own
bad guys, I need some back up. I need the Teen Titans
back. I used to be a member of the Suicide Squad, after the
Joker ended my career as Batgirl. Now I’m Oracle,
the eyes of all superheroes. I’m getting too old
for this crap.
Once upon a time, my father, Richard Dragon,
who sort of looks like a young Chuck Norris, trained me into the
martial arts when I was five years old. I loved him, until the
day he let my mom die at the hands of some assassins, which also cost
me my sight. I wanted to bring my mother back to life, but to do
that, I sold my sight to a being called Krados. The son of a
bitch tricked me, as I never saw him again. Dad hated what I did,
but I still hate him for what happened to Mom. My father trained
me even without sight, but he taught me a special move.
After a few years of training, I learned to
use my other senses to fight my enemies. I forgave my father, as
we moved to Gotham City. Dad opened his own Dojo, while I
continued training. I didn’t care what the odds were, but I
will control my new skills.
My name is Alice Dragon, and I’m called
Blind Alice.
Holly Robinson opened the package that she got
in the mail today. It was a very familiar cat suit, with a
bullwhip in tow. Also, there was a small DVD with it. Holly
put the DVD into her player. As it played, the face of Selina Kyle
appeared on the screen.
“Hello, Holly,” said Selina.
“As you look at this, you know I can’t be Catwoman.
For the last few months, I trained you for this moment to be my
successor to the mantel of Catwoman. And that time is now.
I want you to continue where I left off, but not as a villain, but as a
hero. Gotham needs its Catwoman, and you’re it. Make
me proud, Holly Robinson.” The movie stopped, as Holly
looked at the new Catwoman costume.
“I’m not going to let you down,
Selina,” Holly said to herself, as she donned the costume for the
first time.
Catwoman was back.
Kathy Dukane didn’t like to go to snobby
parties with her father, Eric, but she didn’t want to disappoint
the rich bimbos and snobs as they giggled and talked about Bruce Wayne
and his usual things.
“Dad, I’m bored,” whispered
Kathy into Eric’s ear. “I’m tired of this
bullshit.”
“Watch you language, Kat,” replied
Eric. “I raised you not to be like those cartoon brats on
South Park.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, and South
Park is a funny show,” said Kathy. “I don’t see
Bruce Wayne here anyway. Maybe he’s got some business to
attend to.”
“Well, if it isn’t Eric
Dukane,” said a woman in her forties with long red hair, and
wearing a red gown.
“Shit, it’s Veronica
Vrelend,” said Eric to Kathy, under his breath. “She
never shuts up.”
“She must have divorced Archie
Andrews,” chuckled Kathy.
“Wrong Veronica,” smirked Eric, as
both of them turned to Veronica and her daughter, Bunny. Both of
them were smoking on long black cigarette holders.
“How’s life treating the Dukane
family these days?” Veronica asked. “I heard
you got remarried, Eric. Fiona was a good choice. How did
Betty die again?”
“She was mur-” Kathy began.
“Heart attack,” continued
Eric.
“I still grieve over the loss of that
woman everyday,” said Veronica, as she took a drag from her
holder.
Kathy gave an angered look at the Vrelends,
that they had no right to talk about her late mother at this stupid
party. The Dukanes knew what really happened to Betty Dukane on
that night she died. She didn’t die from a heart attack.
“Look, Mother, I told you Kathy’s
mom was once a drunken whore,” began Bunny, but Kathy punched the
rich brat in the face with her fist.
“SHUT THE HELL UP ABOUT MY MOTHER, YOU
SLUT!!!” Kathy shouted, as Eric calmed her down.
“I’m not a slut, your mom
is,” said Bunny, as she got up from the floor.
“Veronica, tell your brat to shut
up,” shouted Eric. “I don’t know where you got
those rumors about my late wife, but they’re not true.”
“Get out, Dukane,” Veronica said
calmly. “I’ll deal with my daughter later about
this.”
Both Dukanes exited the party.
“I can’t believe that brat had the
nerve to talk about Mom like that,” said Kathy.
“I can’t believe you sucker
punched her,” said Eric.
“I’m sorry, but she insulted
Mom,” continued Kathy. “I had no choice.”
“And that was the best choice
you’ve ever chosen,” smirked Eric. “Someone had
to shut those Vrelends up. Maybe you can use those fisticuffs to
good use, than just punching rich bimbos.”
“What do you mean?” Kathy
asked her dad.
Eric Dukane just smirked at his daughter.
Dr. Harlen Quinzel looked around an old
abandoned warehouse, as she entered it. She was sent by someone
to this place, and it wasn’t her Puddin’, The Joker.
She once worked as a therapist in Arkham Asylum, now she’s Harley
Quinn, the Joker’s moll. She wasn’t in her costume
when she got there.
“Who goes there?” said a voice in
the shadows.
“Harley Quinn,” she replied.
“Idiot! You’re suppose to
use your real name!” shouted the voice.
“I’m not Lois Lane,” said
Harley. “Show yourself.”
A huge albino man walked in front of Harley,
with two hammer like gauntlets on each hand. He wore dark glasses
over his eyes, just to hide his face.
“They call me Tremblor the
Quakemaster,” he spoke. “The boss has been expecting
you. Come with me.”
Harley followed Tremblor to a gathering of
people, who were thugs and mobsters alike. Harley spotted two
huge clowns she once worked with named Punch and Judy in the crowd.
“Does Mista J know about
this?” Harley asked Tremblor.
“Who?” Tremblor asked.
“The Joker, you twit,” snapped
Harley.
“This meeting doesn’t concern
him,” said Tremblor, as Harley looked at a Goth man wearing a new
version of a very familiar green with question marks costume.
“Who’s the Goth in Edward
Nigma’s outfit?” Harley asked.
“That’s a good question,
Harley,” said the Goth man. “I just got what the
computer geeks call an upgrade. You see, Quinn, we’re in
the 21st century, and it’s time Gotham City got an upgrade as
well.”
“So, you’re going to computerize
Gotham?” Harley asked.
“Oh, have a little faith, little
brain,” replied the man calling himself The Riddler.
“That’s not the upgrade I’m talking about.
I’m talking about taking control of Gotham City from the
inside. Soon, Gotham will see a brave new world when Alice
resurrects it into a utopia.”
“Who’s Alice?” Harley
asked.
“Soon, all questions will be
answered,” Riddler evilly smirked. “Let’s
prepare for her arrival.”
Inside a private jet, a strange looking woman
was reading a copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, as she
smoked a Cuban cigar on a long holder. Her face was pure white,
and her hair was short and blond. She looked like something out
of a Tim Burton movie, as she smiled. She closed the book, as she
looked at a dead man and woman with small holes in their foreheads
lying on the floor. The woman smirked, as she took a puff from
her cigar.
“Get rid of the bodies when we
land,” said the woman to her bodyguard, who was also dead, as the
woman chuckled.
Alice was ready for Gotham.
To
be continued... Next
Issue: It’s the official first issue of the rebirth
of Birds of Prey with a new # 1, and an all new team. Find out
what happens when the teams’ first battle is with a new version
of some old and cheesy Batman villains, The Terrible Trio. Who is
the mysterious Alice, and what plan does she have for Gotham
City? What happened to Edward Nigma, and who is the mysterious
Goth man in his place? Find out in part one of a story arc that
could change Gotham and its people forever entitled “Birds
Reassembled.”
Author's Note: Welcome to
issue # 0 of Birds of Prey vol. 2. Last year, I talked to Curt
about doing BoP with a new cast of heroines. I’ve been
reading Gail Simone’s run in the mainstream DCU, and like how she
does female superheroes. My series is going to be like the Farrah
Fawcette Charlie’s Angels series with superheroes. I hope
you’ll enjoy my upcoming run on this title.
This series is dedicated to two actresses we lost in the
form of Farrah Fawcette and Brittany Murphy. They will be missed.
To my Mom, Patricia Moore: Your son is doing you
proud.
