an ind. black canary,  a.k.a. dinah drake.   kinda selective & semi-private;   limited activity.
   as portrayed by rhian & inspired by brenden fletcher's 2015 black canary with some personal canon.
  est. march '16 & rev. may '17   ///   #songslaught        

& withconscience.

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Fight night round two, son. She’s good, she’s – surprisingly level-headed. A little amazing, right? Usually the crazy comes callin’ but tonight she’s zen as fuck. Her adrenaline’s spiked and she’s enjoying it– boy, yeah, she’s feelin’ it, that much is all right here. Breathing heavy– she’s waiting next fight around a screaming crowd leaning against the cage, big broad shoulders, the solid, tight set of her stomach heaving against that barely-there black crop top. Leather pants, even, tall, heavy combat boots.

She’s won three others. Big ol’ split at her lip, her eyebrow, bright purple bruises blossoming like pretty orchids all over deep tan skin. Only thing’s pale on that body a blotch of thick scar tissue, ugly, stretched across her left side. A knife slid in there once, like butter.

She’s splittin’ into a grin after a second, shoulders wide and set, arms extended. There’s that little motion and the crowd’s roaring. There’s blood in her mouth and it tastes like fun.

“Come on, guys, I’m still workin’ on number one, how do I get my rocks off when there ain’t half a man in this pit to do the job?!”

She won’t lie, the cheers are awesome.

                 dinah may’ve had times where she could be deemed a goody-goody.

                 but a few betrayals and some lost comrades — adding running with hair that smelled of war, screaming with the canary’s cry at bay each night on stage and tears she hated to shed? well, it was simple to say they hardened her heart, it would also be half a lie… yet, her heart seemed bigger than ever before. though none of that really had much to do with her growing fascination with gotham’s underground in her return to the dark city’s soil. no matter where the career in a band took her, gotham was in her blood as much as the pang of a hero’s glory could’ve been claimed.

                  the underbelly of gotham was a strange place, one that would always feel more home to her than most any location she’d been for any team or any hotel she’d stayed in while on tour. and in her recognition of the woman calling for a fight, dinah barely fought the smile that slipped across her features at the sight of faith lehane.

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                ❛ oh, i dunno, hot stuff — not sure there’s a fella here who could handle a woman like yourself, ❜      her tone held a note of teasing as she stepped forward from the mess of a circle that had formed so commonly. combat boots rose to meet trademark fishnets which played all the way to greet a pair of torn shorts and raggedy black v-neck tank over a sports bra. shedding her spiked leather jacket she flashed a set of white teeth to woman, only partly wondering if faith would recall her after all these years.

                   the grin is near vocal.     ❛ and if we’re honest, i might be one of the few here who could take you. ❜

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