I don't own DC or most of whatever else. But the Superbabes girls are my own. Thank you for reading 200+ chapters
These are different tales involving Orders specifically, they take place at certain times in the 'timeline' of Superbabes. They are all stories that I thought up at different points, and I'm now going into detail.
The Mistake
Time: Before Big Barda #1
This job is not easy. It's not complicated. But it does have requirements. It is a mistake to ignore that.
"Your friend Rebecca." Orders said, glancing through the resumes she had acquired. "You told her to her face what I wanted?"
"Oh yeah." Ronnie-Bell declared casually, standing in the doorway of Orders office in a tight T-Shirt and long pants. "Becca's kinda wild. Before she got into Roller Derby, she tried her hand at wrestling first. Turns out she just liked to wrestle, not so much the kayfabe." Orders glanced at her, "…She just liked grabbing muscle men. She didn't make the cut." She clarified as Orders just sighed, putting down a few of the resumes, reading another. "…Sooo how's the dayshift looking?"
"Contrary as to what happens at night looking fairly light. Most of the girls in the day shift are the part-timers, and they're already finding other jobs."
Because 'Delivery Girls' make far more money, most of the waitresses don't stay long and find new work. And most of them aren't entirely aware of what Delivery Girls do… or more accurately chose not to ask questions… This was Gotham, and Orders was terrifying in the right circumstances. They kept their mouths shut when they were here and when they left. They ALL knew better than to rat on Orders in Gotham.
"So some of the night shift will have to come in huh?" she yawned, "Well… that'll be interesting." Orders just grimaced. "I'm going to head out. Need a ride?"
"No… I'm going to finish up and walk home… or pass out on my couch. Whichever comes first…" she said, focusing on the resumes. Ronnie-Bell waved, and walked out of Orders's office, soon the roar of her motorcycle echoed into the building but quickly diminished as she drove away and Orders went back to work.
She then grimaced again, and put another to the side in the 'no' pile. Superbabes had a standard that she had to maintain for their waitresses… and some of these girls were just not cut out for it. Physicality, temperament, dedication… There were a few that could fit the bill, but a majority were just looking for work and she would try her best to accommodate, but there was only so much she could do.
She closed her eyes, putting the resumes down as she rested her chin on her hand, taking a deep relaxing breath… she was getting a headache, maybe she should just head home and deal with this tomorrow? What's the worst that could happen? She put the resumes down, slipped the 'no's' into her desk for later shredding… then stood up.
"Hey Boss?" Laura, or at the moment 'Huntress' leaned her head concernedly into Orders office, "Hey… there's a girl here looking for a job." The look on her face however told Orders everything she needed to know. Orders scowled, sighed, and sat back down… crossing her fingers as her eyes flashed, and her head rung.
She snarled but took a deep, cleansing breath. Clearing the angry look on her face. "…Fine send her in."
…There would be no avoiding this.
"Uh. Boss, she's… she wants to be a waitress and-"
"I know what she wants." Orders said patiently. "…Send her in please." Laura rolled her eyes behind the mask.
"…Okay." She said, before walking away. Orders looked down at her desk, and when she looked up again. She put on a small but forced smile. "Hello. Have a seat. What can I do for you?"
…This girl was never going to be a Superbabe. Overweight, unhygienic, and clearly didn't care about her appearance despite an attractive face. She was a big girl. She had big breasts, and fat ass, and a big gut… For the right person, she might get the job done… but there was NO. WAY. She was going to be a Superbabe and she knew that… she wasn't here for a job.
The woman's polite smile had faded upon seeing Orders, but it quickly returned. "I'd like to apply to be a Superbabe." She lied to Orders' face as Orders stared at her with her purple eyes. The woman… we'll call her 'Karen', said the words with a pretty smile. Orders nodded slowly. She closed her eyes, she took a breath, exhaled, and then she opened them again. She'll give this woman a chance.
"…I'm afraid that's just not possible." Karen continued to smile, "I can give you a job in the kitchen if you like. As a day shift driver if need be, but I can't hire you as a Superbabe."
"Uh-huh. Sure. Because of the way I look?" she said scornfully with that same smile.
"Yes." Orders replied bluntly as Karen finally frowned. "Most certainly. You don't have the right physicality for it." she stated, plainly, and leaning back in her chair. Sighing audibly through her nose as they went down THIS future.
She suddenly seemed far less polite, scowling unappealingly as she crossed her chubby legs. "Uh huh, its exploitative is what it is! You only hire attractive women at this establishment! I'll sue for biased practices."
"Unless I give you a significant sum to make this all go away right?" The Karen just smiled as Orders sighed again, she was FAR too smug for her liking. "…Alright." Orders stood up, and walked to her door. Shut it quietly, before turning around and sitting at her desk again as Karen laughed.
"Avoiding nasty legal fees is always preferred I find."
"MMn…" Orders replied, glaring at her with a straight face but glowingly angry purple eyes. "…That might work for the Superbabes in Florida, North Carolina, and West Virginia…" the girl's smile faded, slowly… naming all the states she pulled this little scheme. "…But you made a mistake. THIS IS GOTHAM." She said, her eyes widened angrily and she stood up. Looming over the woman like a haunting ghost. "THIS IS MY SUPERBABES! You think you're the first BITCH to try and extort me?!" she shouted as the girl blinked stupidly at her. "I tried to be nice. Now I'll be the BOSS."
Orders walked around the desk, glaring the girl in the eyes. She stared into the purple eyes of Orders as she grabbed her face and FORCED her to look at her, seeing into the woman's future. But she ignored the headache, blocked it out. "There are people in this district. On this very STREET." She hissed softly, "Who would make you disappear into the harbor at the merest HINT of you trying to cut into their profits."
Orders forced the woman to look her in the eyes again as she shuddered in terror, grabbing at her wrist and trying to pull her off. She had some strength, but Orders was fueled by anger and GREED. "This is MY place, and I employ a significant number of men and women that are far more important to me than being MORAL in my business. SO. let me be very clear when I speak…" she took a breath and hissed the words between her teeth, spitting in the woman's face. "RUN. Get out of Gotham. And don't come back."
She shoved the girl away as she stood up.
"You haven't heard the last of me. I'll-" Orders glared at her, and she stopped talking.
"I don't care if you try running cons on other Superbabes locations." Orders noted, "I don't care if you think you're entitled to certain things. But I have a reputation to maintain, and quality to control… I tried to offer you honest work and you tried to use the law to extort me." Orders laughed, harshly. "…Oooh… you poor deluded woman. I'd tell you to get a job." She said, going to her desk. "…But I think you'll be in jail."
"Jail?" she laughed, "…Screw you bitch. I'll be out of here before you even call the cops."
"…MMn…" she picked up the phone, the woman opened the door and walked out, stomping furiously and making a scene in Superbabes as Orders picked up the phone… dialing a specific number. She held it to her ear. "…Hey. Do you still have that friend in the attorney general's office?... Good. I got someone he might like to know about... no she tried to extort me." Orders laughed. "Ha-ha! No… no… of course, I didn't give her any money, but she has pulled this stunt in three states is that enough to get his attention?..." she smiled at the answer. "Yes. Ma'am, I'll wait…"
I am all for giving people a chance. To allow them to make the right decisions… but all too often they make mistakes. And they will pay for them.
The Mobster
Time: LONG before Red Lantern #3
Friends in High places will keep the shit out of your face. Friends in lower ones will keep it off your boots.
Gotham is dangerous for everyone. Heroes. Villians. Innocent people… no more so than everyday thugs. They are just as likely to be gutted by rivals or shot by their own bosses as they are to be pounded by Heroes.
"Gugh!" James's shoulder slammed against the brick, the knife wound in his gut bleeding profusely as he stumbled away from the brutal gang fight. He kept his hand on the wound and stumbled further down the alleyway as he heard the gunshots and the screams behind him… he knew picking a fight with their rival gang the Greens was a bad idea but what did he know? He was new, fresh from Louisiana hoping to be more than a drug dealer. Be a big-time Gotham Gangster!
He kept walking, stumbling, his blood streaking from his wound down his pants as the fighting lessened behind him… although whether that was because he was losing consciousness or it was dying down he didn't really-
"BATMAN!" he dropped to his knees, shaking as he heard the dreaded name that all of the Gotham criminal underworld heard. And the sickening cries of pain and anguish as he closed his eyes… maybe he might last long enough for the ambulances to arrive with the cops…
"This the one?"
"He's the only one here." The voices were faint, he was slipping. "What the feck that's a lot of blood. Is he even still alive?"
"She wouldn't have sent us if he wasn't-" he didn't remember much after that…
…The next thing he knew he was in pain. "Ah!" hissing in pain as a new voice noted, soothing.
"Don't move. Almost… done." There was a snip. "Alright… that's my job done." James opened his eyes, blinking blearily around at the mostly empty room. He was on a creaky bed with just a mattress, no sheets or pillows. He tried to sit up but a calloused hand held him down. "Wait a minute. Don't move I just finished stitching you up."
He then finally noticed the older man, early fifties or late forties… completely bald with the only hair on his head being a distinct black handlebar mustache. So distinct that James thought it was fake. "All done." He smiled, patting his shoulder. "You're a lucky thug. That stab was clean, no organ damage or internal bleeding."
"Who are you?" he asked, his cajun accent slipping into his panic as the man stood up.
"…Just a mob doctor doing a favor." He declared as someone new, a purple-eyed woman entered the room. "All done young lady." He declared.
"Thank you Doctor." She declared, gazing at James. "Give her my regards." She said absently as he straightened his real handlebar mustache.
"Certainly." He replied pleasantly before he walked out of the room as James stared at her.
"…Who are you?"
"Orders." She declared coolly as James recoiled slightly at the name, mostly from confusion.
"…Are you asking me for Orders? Do you work for La Puanteur?" that was his boss… loosely translated as 'The Stench'… for obvious reasons. He assumed Orders worked for La Puanteur, but… he's never seen her before and somehow he couldn't imagine La Puanteur would save his life.
The corner or Orders' lips twitched, "…No. And NO… as of…" she checked her watch. "…5 minutes from now, Leroy Cantoni will be dead in the hospital…" she declared callously, "Nobody will work for him now."
"…What?" James replied confused as Orders sighed.
"Leroy Cantoni. 'La Puanteur'. Your former boss. He's dead. Turns out getting shot in a gang fight is lethal." She added sarcastically. "Most of your crew is dead. Most of the other crew is dead too…" she put her hands behind her back like a monologuing Supervillain, approaching and sitting in the chair the doctor had been using as he stitched James up. "And the ones that aren't dead were smart, like you, and got out of there before the Batman showed up and got the rest arrested." She absently glanced around at the mostly empty room. "…As expected." She added, "Now… there is the small matter of the power vacuum left behind James."
He stared at her, sitting up and flinching slightly, his freshly stitched wound ached… but at least it wasn't bleeding anymore. "W-what? How do you know my name?"
"Because I know everything James Lafayette." He stared at her… he hadn't been using his real name when he came to Gotham he was going by James Smith… unoriginal he knew, but fancy names like that made thugs look at you funny, and they kept looking at you funny until you gave them a reason not to. "...I know where you keep your gun in your cheap apartment on 3rd. I know you secretly have a desire to run a fancy restaurant where your 'boys' can mingle and you can use it as a front, you're classic like that. I know you think you can strangle me and make a run for it… but you can't… because I know everything."
She interlocked her fingers as James stared at her nervously. "I know that you would've died if I didn't send my girls to drag you out of that bloodbath. I know that without my mentor's mob doctor associate you would've been in a lot worse pain because I'm terrible with a needle." He opened his mouth, as she drove the point home. "I know you're about to ask me, "Who are you? What are you talking about? Where are my shoes?"
He stared down at his bare feet, seeing his big toe through the hole in his sock. He was, in fact, about to ask her where his shoes were. Not to mention the first two questions. "I know that if I ask you to pick a number between 1 and 100 you'll pick 26-76-4… in that order because you'll make me do it two more times after the first. I know everything. And I have a lucrative offer for you Mr. Lafayette…"
He leaned back against the steel bars of the bed and stared at her in awe. "…An offer?"
"Indeed." Orders declared, "…How would you like to become a mob boss?" he stared at her like she was insane, and her purple eyes flashed. "…Would you like to know where Leroy kept his stashes? Where the greens kept theirs? I know where…" she declared. "I was going to take the cash for myself." She smiled, shrugging, "But then I thought of an opportunity for the both of us…" she sat up straight in her chair.
"…What sort of opportunity?" he asked as her already polite smile stretched into something pretty, she brought it out for business.
"That's why I liked you James. You're just the right amount of Ambition, caution, and intelligence. You ask questions." She rested her hands on her lap. "…I would like you to be the gang boss of my district. I'd like to not pay extortionist fees to an asshole who's never been in my restaurant… what I would LIKE is a gang that won't stretch farther than they need to."
"My plan. Is for YOU to become my mob boss… you run my district, run your own gang, and you leave ME, and my girls alone." She declared, "In return. I tell you who to hit, who to recruit, who to drive out and most importantly. When your rivals are going to try and take you out…"
James stared at her suspiciously. "…Why not do it yourself?"
"Because I'm not a criminal James. Keep up. YOU are the criminal. You came to Gotham specifically to BE a criminal… the only difference is you actually want to make money. I can respect that. You can't make money if you're dead. You can't get fame and respect if you are dead. I can make sure you stay NOT-dead. In return, all I ask is a little… favoritism." She added, "A little civility." He shifted on the mattress. "…I did save your life."
"…What if I say no?"
"Then you go back to being a two-bit thug for your everyday gangster wannabe, getting ignored, getting killed… god help you if you join up with the BIG leagues like Two-Face or Black Mask." He squirmed at the names of some mob bossy super criminals. "I can make sure you stay two steps ahead of them."
"…So what's the price for this… information?"
"Nothing. No price. I'm setting you up as a Mob Boss so I have some underworld protection for my restaurant. What's not to understand about this win-win scenario? I don't give you money, you do what you usually do as a gangster, and we both live happy long lives." James seemed to think on it, Orders sighed. "…Do you want to be the mug? Or the BOSS? James?"
James licked his lips, putting his hand on his side and shifting his legs off the bed. "…What do I have to do?"
Orders smiled, "…First recruiting. Give me a list of names from your friends, and as many as you know from the Greens." She said as James blinked at her, "I'll tell you who to recruit and who to expel. I'll give you a good sell for the Greens, they're fractured and they're scattered, but if they get to their stashes they'll regroup, you need to hit them first. The Stenches crew are just as broken, the lieutenants are locked up or in the hospital for one reason or another, you can seize power before Mickey the Rat can try his luck, we need to beat him to it."
Orders stood up. "Don't even try with Harry Palm, he'll just take a stash and run, we'll go with Harry the Jack, he's dim but he'll be loyal and easy to control." James stared at her concernedly.
"…You do know everything don't you Ma chéri?" he mumbled as Orders frowned at him.
"…That's another thing. You can't be James Smith. Or even James Lafayette…" she smiled at him, "You need a good mobster name. Something with pizzazz, something catchy. You got to lean into it, the paraphernalia…" Her eyes flashed, "…Cajun Jim."
"Cajun Jim?"
"Indeed. How do you feel about dreadlocks?"
From Thug to Boss, I'd say I created a monster but that is simply not the case… this was a partnership, an understanding. We mostly stay out of each other's business unless necessary… but he knows who's in charge.
The Meet-up
Time: After Killer Frost #5
…First Dates are always terrifying. For a woman who saw everything coming, she didn't see the night ahead.
The Sounds of Louisiana was a karaoke restaurant… and a well-known place of Business for local gangster James 'Cajun Jim' Lafayette… Needless to say, Caleb Smulders was a little concerned with Ms. Orders had asked him to meet her here for their date.
Then again, the other places they had tried to pick were a little much. Orders had informed him of her distaste for The Cattle Call: he liked it for their sirloin he SWEARS, and other places were simply not… appetizing. The Iceburg lounge was simply not a place for a beat cop like him…
He checked his watch outside. It was almost 5 minutes before their reservation. 7 o'clock sharp. The Sounds of Louisiana was packed with people and he could hear someone singing an off-key Michael Chameleon song. Smooth Criminal. Which was ironic considering the place was openly run by a gang boss… alleged gang boss.
This was Gotham. 'Alleged' was a word that had no deep meaning. Caleb, checked his watch nervously again, dressed in a tight buttoned-up white shirt, tie, neatly groomed black hair and pressed pants, along with his cleanly shaven face. He was as nervous as a criminal trapped in prison with The Batman… Whatever convinced him to ask out his only Sister's imposing Boss perhaps none could say, not even himself… but there was something about the mysterious 'Orders'… which she insisted he call her. Her shockingly Purple eyes, her demeanor, the control and efficiency she established over the restaurant she ran like a well-oiled machine-
Poor choice of words. Well-oiled and attractive Superbabes only seemed to make him even more nervous… also managed to get a laugh out of him. He took a breath, and sighed, closing his eyes… sticking his hands in his pocket, and feeling his phone… wondering if he should call Rebecca, when…
"Sergeant Smulders." He turned, Orders was… pretty. She wore a flattering Purple dress, so dark it was almost black. Her purse on her shoulder, matching shoes… her dark hair tied back in a glamorously shining ponytail. "Apologies for being late… I had a very annoying call to make to Japan about a new…" she paused, then decided against elaborating. "Never mind." She added.
"It's fine." Caleb replied quickly, "Call me Caleb. Sgt. Smulders is when I'm in uniform and we are here to have a good time…" he glanced at the restaurant, and the line to get it in. "…In a very… nice place. We better get in line." He added sheepishly. "I would've done so earlier but-"
"It's fine. I expected this." Orders said, "It's why I arrange to come here. I know the owner." She added with a rather adorable smile. "I have a standing reservation."
"What?" Caleb asked surprised, "You know Ca-James Lafayette? Personally?"
"Of course, I helped him set the place up." Orders replied, "I run a restaurant. He wanted to run a restaurant." He needed a criminal front and she made it as air-tight as possible… "It works out." Caleb's eyes narrowed nervously as she walked right up to the dreadlocked front door goon. He stared at her, froze, and cleared his throat. Stepping aside to let her pass. "Thank you, Harry." She then pointed to Caleb, Curling her finger to follow. "He's with me."
Together they walked into the crowded restaurant… many of the staff had Dreadlocks… because they were the Dreadlock boys. Cajun Jim himself was eating in his private booth with his dreadlock girls and top lieutenants, laughing and enjoying their evening as Orders, moving like she owned the place… walked through the crowded tables to the only reserved and empty table in the house.
Hers.
Right at the front of the stage, always empty just in case she showed up. No exceptions… she sat down at the table. Caleb, although hesitant, joined her… and it was as if someone pressed the panic button for the place. The dreadlock boys were at attention, and one of them moved subtly towards Cajun Jim and his personal table, whispering to the Dreadlock girl, who then whispered to Cajun Jim… he abruptly stood up and shoved his way through his lieutenants, who quickly understood what was going on and made themselves busy with the rest of the place. One of them taking position as the MC of music.
"Welcome to the Sounds of Louisiana how may I-" began the waitress only for Cajun Jim to 'politely' and quickly brush her away.
"No-no! None of that. Ma chéri." He declared, grinning at Orders, before turning his attention to Caleb and declaring almost breathlessly. "…Are you on a date?" he declared, losing his accent just a little in shock.
"Don't make this weird." She declared frankly, before handing Caleb a menu, and taking one herself. "I'm just having a nice evening with Sgt. Caleb Smulders, listening to bad karaoke."
"Well you could always go up there yourself I have your song always ready." She abruptly glared at him, "Right! Regardless your money is no good here! Have whatever you like Ma chéri. My treat."
"Thank you, James." She replied as Cajun Jim nodded, waving down a dreadlock boy and whispering instructions as Caleb found what he'd eat on the menu, putting it down and looking at Orders in a new light.
"…You just have him wrapped around your finger, don't you? Know where the bodies are buried?" he joked.
Yes. She did. "Don't be silly. I'm an experienced businesswoman and he wanted some help… you could say I saved his life." …Yes. She did say that with a straight face… it wasn't like she was lying. "I know he said it's on him but let's try to be considerate about that." she noted, "Do you know what you are getting?"
"Shrimp gumbo." He said, "You?"
"The Jambalaya has yet to disappoint me." She said kindly, she put the menu down, looking at the dead-sexy Caleb Smulders along with many, MANY other women in the restaurant. He was easily the best-looking man in the room. "So…" she glanced at him, her Purple-eyes staring into his soul and, to his credit, he managed to resist the urge to kowtow. "I have to ask. Whatever possessed you to ask me out on a date?"
Caleb stared at her, somewhat surprised. "…Mostly? Becca speaks highly of you. And she's always trying to set me up with her friends, I figured you were just another attempt at that. But I won't lie and say you didn't expand my curiosity with the number of times I kept getting called over to Superbabes." He smiled charmingly at Orders, who to her credit didn't swoon at the sight of it like many other girls he's used it on… ignoring the splash damage to those surrounding them. "Honestly I don't know why you call so often, you usually manage to handle it yourself one way or another. I always imagined you're just trying to get me to show up."
"Dealing with idiots is cop work." Orders declared, "I can try to be reasonable as much as I want but usually a badge is what takes proper convincing." A dreadlock boy, a somewhat familiar one, poured them both a glass of water. "Thank you. And honestly, I can only have your sister throw people out so many times before I've had enough of dealing with them."
Caleb laughed, "That's another thing you hired Becca. We were starting to worry about her." he noted, as the Dreadlock boy took their orders and walked away. "…Granted you have her dress up in a bikini, but that's more my mother's concern than ours."
"Hmmn." Orders mumbled but flinched as someone new began singing on stage. An old Britney Swords song that wasn't exactly in key, that's usually half the fun but not for a woman who gets consistent headaches. "Ugh… normally I enjoy the best seat in the house. But it appears the regular quality of singers is moot."
"No kidding." Caleb replied, but remained good-natured. "Is it always karaoke?"
"Sometimes he has a live band. But cheap entertainment is cheap. At least that's what I tell him…" she replied as Caleb chuckled.
"Well, why don't you go up there and sing? Becca tells me you sang Fiona to sleep once. Ashley's niece?"
"She and I are going to have a serious talk about what she tells you about me." Orders noted sternly. "Especially if you want a second date."
"…Oh yeah?" he asked, rather surprised. "Already thinking about going out with me again?"
"Let's just say I always have an eye on the future." Orders noted, her purple-eyes flashing… she stared at him for a minute then sighed at his broad grin. "…You're going to keep bugging me until I do aren't you?"
…Which was more 'fact' than a question. Because it's Orders.
"…Well…" He began slowly, that same charming smile on his face. She sighed, then glared at the stage, as the karaoke singer finished up to polite applause.
"…If I do, you don't tell this to Rebecca. Or we definitely won't have a second date." Before he could respond she stood up. And gave a passing glance to a slightly unnerved Cajun Jim, who quickly realized what was happening.
"She's going to sing! Quick! She needs back up!"
Orders slowly walked up on stage, and many of the dreadlock boys quickly assembled behind her on Cajun Jim's instructions. She turned her attention to the MC, claiming a microphone. "You know my song." She declared as he nodded understandingly as she walked to the center of the stage… to the rising tune…
Once she reached the center, the lights went dim, and she dramatically pointed at Caleb as the music rose to a dramatic beginning.
Don't you disrespect me little man!
Don't you derogate or deride!
You're in my world now
Not your world
And I got friends on the other side!
"She's got friends on the other SIDE!!" echoed the Dreadlock boys. In perfect Chorus.
That's an echo, everyone
Just a little something we have here in Gotham
A little parlor trick. Don't worry
Orders then began to slowly shimmy an adorable dance.
Sit down at my table
Put your minds at ease
If you relax it will enable me to do anything I please
I can read your future
I can change it 'round some, too
I'll look deep into your heart and soul
(You do have a soul, don't you, Caleb?)
Caleb stared at her, grinning good-naturedly.
Make your wildest dreams come true!
I got voodoo, I got hoodoo
I got things I ain't even tried!
And to think, she wasn't even a professional singer.
And I got friends on the other side
The cards, the cards, the cards will tell
The past, the present, and the future as well!
The cards, the cards, just take three
Take a little trip into your future with me!
Now you, young man, are from across the sea
You come from two long lines of royalty
I'm a royal myself on my mother's side
…She is not.
Your lifestyle's high
But your funds are low
You need to marry a lil' honey whose daddy got dough!
Mom and dad cut you off, huh playboy?
Now y'all gotta get hitched, but hitchin' ties you down
You just wanna be free
Hop from place to place
But freedom takes green!
It's the green, it's the green, it's the green you need
And when I looked into your future
It's the green that I see!
On you little man, I don't wanna waste much time
You been pushed around all your life
You been pushed around by your
Mother and your sister and your brother
And if you was married
You'd be pushed around by your wife
But in your future, the you I see
Is exactly the man you always wanted to be!
Shake my hand
Come on boys
Won't you shake the poor sinner's hand?
Yeeeeeeessss!!
The music picked up, and the dreadlock boys echoed for her.
Are you ready?
(Are you ready?)
Are you reeeeeeady?!
Transformation central!
(Transformation central!)
Reformation central!
(Reformation central!)
Transmogrification central!
Can you feel it?
You're changin', You're changin', You're changin', all right!
I hope you're satisfied
But if you ain't
Don't blame me!
You can blame my friends on the other side!
(You got what you wanted)
(But you lost what you had)
The Crowd went WILD as Orders, a little red-faced, stepped off the stage back to the table as Cajun Jim clapped his hands placatingly loud as Caleb smiled at her. "That was… that was impressive! Why are you a restaurateur?!"
"Because Keith David doesn't sing a lot of songs." Orders replied bluntly but smiling at him. "Now. I sang a song. It's your turn. I'm calling your bluff sergeant."
"Sergeant. Sar!-GEANT! SAR! GEANT!" chanted Cajun Jim as the dreadlock boys and the crowd began to join in, "sergeant! sergeant! sergeant!"
"Well we didn't agree to that but. Alright already! Alright… of course you know-" he said, getting up and taking off his tie. "This means a second date." Orders's half smile grew into a bigger one.
"…Maybe." She said mysteriously as her date selected his song.
I will say this about Caleb. He makes me think it's possible to be more than I am. Not that I'm ready for it…
The Morrigan
Time: Doesn't matter
Gotham is a cruel, dark, and unforgiving place… but it can not be said that it isn't a city of opportunity, of new beginnings… and sudden, unfortunate endings…
The cab arrived in the rain. The old five-story building in the southern end of the Upper-East district, once a central hub of socializing and good time was quietly dying as she got out of the car. Opening the umbrella over her head. She paid the cabbie, then walked up the steps as it drove off into the curtain of Gotham rain vanishing from sight. She raised a fist, and knocked loudly… it didn't take long for the door to open, revealing an attractive blonde woman.
"…Oh. You know you don't have to knock." She smiled fondly at Orders, and stood to the side. "Come on in she's expecting you." Orders took a step in, closed the umbrella, and tossed it into the basket by the door, usually, it would've been full. "So how have you been?"
"Fine. You and the girls?"
"Like you don't already know." she smirked, before exasperatedly elaborating. "…Most are okay. Gone to here or there as you are well aware… it was just so sudden but I guess you wouldn't be surprised."
"I'm the one who helped make arrangements for those who weren't prepared. How is Mama?"
"Oh… well you know her…" she said sadly as they walked up the stairs together. "…If I had any complaints it's that someone keeps bringing her cigarettes… you wouldn't happen to know who that is?"
"Unless it happens in the next hour I can't tell you." Orders replied. They stood outside a green door, with a hanging plaque that said 'Mama' upon it. "…Are you going to England?"
"That's the plan." She replied with a faint smile. "You?"
"My business is picking up." Orders replied, "If you want a job…"
"No thank you. I'm done with that. I have a nice job in England, no more cathouses for me thanks." She declared, looking around the place. "…This place has been in her family for three generations. Judge Solomon Wayne, Himself came here once."
Orders chuckled. "He did not. This building wasn't built until he passed."
"Oh shush… it was good for business until those prudes cracked down on Prostitution." She shrugged, "…Gotham." She added resignedly.
"Gotham." Orders concurred as she walked away.
"I'll leave you to it." she said, walking past her back down the stairs as Orders raised a fist, and knocked.
"It's open." Came the voice inside as Orders opened the door…
Once upon a time, she was very beautiful. She still might be to some. Dark ebony skin, and a mop of greying hair, and a slightly plumper body than say 30 years ago. "Oh..." she stared at Orders with hazelnut brown eyes, before producing a lit cigarette and taking a puff. "Cassie. I've been expecting you."
…Cassandra shut the door and walked into the room. "Mama." The older woman smiled at her. "…I'm going to miss you when you're gone."
The old woman, the former matron of The Gotham Good-Times Cathouse rolled her eyes exasperatedly. "Cassie I'm not dying I'm moving to England!... Unless…?" her eyes narrowed at Cassandra. "…I'm NOT dying right, my little Oracle?"
"No. Not that I've seen certainly." Cassandra replied.
Mama leaned back on her bed, taking a heavy drag of her cigarette, coughing slightly and glancing out the window. "How have you been? How's your business doing? Tell me everything."
"I am doing well. My business is doing well, very productive." She said calmly.
"Of course, you'd know how to run a brothel." Smiled Mama, "Taught you everything I know."
Orders smirked, "Not a brothel, a delivery service." Mama did teach her everything she knew, what she didn't learn herself Orders learned everything about Business from Mama, and in return, Mama didn't throw her out in the street or abuse her powers… but to be fair, Orders knew she wouldn't in advance of meeting her. "…I'm sorry that I couldn't help you save the cathouse."
"Don't be silly Cassie." Mama replied softly. "…It's because of you it lasted so long in the first place. All the stings, the supervillains, the bad actors… we would've closed years ago if not for you." She snuffed the cigarette in the homemade ashtray. "…I couldn't have asked for a better daughter, and I have so many." Mama sighed, glancing at Orders. "…I shudder to think what would've happened if I handed you over to the orphanage when I found you… you are very convincing."
Orders smiled, "…I certainly can be. Telling you about the cops trying to catch you in the act certainly helped." Mama laughed.
"No kidding! I thought you were just a smart kid!..." she gazed at Orders fondly. "I'm glad you're running a semi-legit business Cassie… I don't think you ever had the temperament to be a brothel girl but BOY could you be a damn good manager!" Cassandra sniffed, clearing her throat as Mama sighed again. "…Between you and me I think I'll miss you most of all."
Cassandra didn't look Mama in the eyes. "Stop… buttering me up." She pulled a fresh pack of her favorite brand of cigarettes. "I already brought your cigs. The most expensive ones mind you."
Mama smiled taking the cigarettes and slipping them under her pillow. "Doesn't make it any less true, Cassandra Morrigan… NOW. You owe me a few more favors, don't you?"
"Of course, Mama." Orders replied exasperatedly with a purple eye roll. "Might as well milk it while you can, I'm going to have my own 'friends' soon enough."
"I think I'd like you to take me out to dinner." Mama declared, getting out of bed. "Your treat." She added knowingly as Orders cringed.
"…You are a scrooge Mama." Orders noted as Mama laughed. Mama was the only living being in Gotham who could get Orders to pay for anything without complaint…
"Yes! And who taught you my little Oracle?!" she declared confidently, already getting dressed for dinner.
"You did Mama." Orders replied. "…I can't wait until you're gone." She lied. Mama laughed as Orders smiled, already missing the woman who practically raised her after she ran away from her deadbeat parents.
"Don't be like that. Candice won't let me have any Pizza. Says I need to cut back! But I'm not leaving Gotham without having one last slice of Original Nick's! Come on Cassie… it's your favorite."
Orders eyes flashed, and she rolled them. "…Yes Mama." She said, following Mama out the door before Beverly, another adopted daughter, tried to stop her.
Gotham is a cesspit of Crime. But it IS a city of endless opportunity if you know what to do, who to meet, and how to do it.
And I. KNOW. EVERYTHING…
End.
'Mama' is not related to Cassandra Morrigan, but she's still her Mama. And in England...
Now... Next up is Supergirl II but I want to address something embarrassing.
...This is NOT, technically, the 200th chapter... it's the 199th because the ROSTER is technically not a chapter. I didn't realize it until I was reposting the last chapter on Questionable Questing. But I will ignore that if you will too... regardless, thank you for 200 chapters