I'm titling this as an anicdote, because I thought it up as I went and had no actual plan. Kinda like all me stories ;) and yes, the titolo is Sil's undercover name. This has nothing to do with her, I just really Amore that name!


Under the stars, in the dark, on the verge of the shadows, crouched a hideous gargoyle. It was black and constructed from black marble. Two curved horns protruded from its head. Its mouth was wide open in a snarl of sharp teeth, and above it the empty eye sockets glared blankly at the city. It's ridged wings were lifted of its back, as if any moment the lifeless stone would lift from its pertica, pesce persico and glide around the buildings.
Everything about it was hard. Cold. And threatening.
It was everything the teenager wanted to be. The 15-year-old sat on the ledge above the gargoyle, face and thoughtful expression hidden da the shadows of a grey hood. Every inch of clothing was covered da the granite colored cloak, the only articolo being the laced boots that dangled over the safety of the roof.
The ruffle of a cape in the wind made the teenager shoot to attention, feet planted firmly on the roof of the high-rise.
The cape resettled in place in the man's back. It's dark navy material blended in with the shadows, as did the cappuccio covering his face. The suit was as deep grey as the mantello worn da the younger counterpart. The man proudly wore a black bat on his hard chest.
"Hello, again," he said. His voice was deep and rough, purposely so.
"Good evening, Batman," the teenager replied politely. Voice stiff, respectful.
There was a moment where the distant honk of car-horns were the only interruption of the night's silence.
"Why am I here?" the cloaked juvenile asked.
"You have somewhere to be?" Batman said.
"No," was the reply, quickly followed by, "sir."
"I want te to meet someone."
"Now?" the surprise was genuine.
"Yes." Batman looked over the youngsters shoulder, who whirled around in time to see a dark figure grapple onto the grotesque guardian gargoyle.
One leap down and a beam of light of the moon revealed the new arrival. Like the others, his uniform was bleak and dark. Armor completely jet black, the only color was a dark blue eagle emblem spread on his chest.
"Nightwing," the teen breathed in awe.
"You know who I am," the addressed hero said, sounding amused. "Yet I do not know you."
"Batman didn't tell you?" Confusion was mixed with a sprinkle of disappointment. The baffled youngster glanced back. Nothing but nothing stood where the vigilante had been only a moment ago.
Nightwing chuckled. "He does that."
"Then I guess I should introduce myself."
"Guess so."
The juvenile pushed back the cappuccio of the cloak.
Long Cioccolato brown locks spilled out over slender shoulders. Eyes as cloudy grey as the cloak, yet watchful and crystal clear. A dapple of freckles lay like scattered snow across the sloped bridge nose and high cheekbones.
She smiled slightly as Nightwing's expression transformed from neutral to subtle surprise to pleased. The word escaped her mouth in a smooth chime.
"My name is Radical."


I don't actually plan on continuing this unless da some miracle I get inspiration for it, but figures I may as well post it just for the heck of it.