LOOTING DC #10. Artemis
Artemis landed softly on the rooftop, the soles of her boots making no sound against the concrete. She slid the last arrow back into her quiver - it was the only one she hadn't recovered. The rest, she'd tracked down after the chase.
And what a chase it had been.
She was ready to report back, though part of her wasn't quite done. Something about chasing that spider left her grinning. He was-
"You're getting sloppy," a voice purred from the shadows.
Artemis didn't flinch. She didn't have to. She knew that voice. Knew the lazy venom in every syllable.
Cheshire stepped forward from the dark.
"You let him get away," she said, amusement curling around her words like smoke. "Didn't even try to pin him down."
Artemis shrugged. "He was fast."
Cheshire arched an eyebrow beneath her mask. "Since when do you give up just because someone's fast?" Her tone was silk, but it held that usual threat - coiled and casual.
"Dad won't be thrilled, you know. He doesn't like waste."
Artemis didn't respond. No defense. No excuse. Just silence.
Cheshire studied her a moment longer, then her eyes narrowed, something sharper slipping beneath her voice. "Huh. So it's like that, huh?"
Artemis turned, slow and unimpressed. "Like what?"
Cheshire's smirk turned feral. "I mean… you? Dodging shots? Smiling? Letting a boy with a mask and an attitude get away?"
She leaned in like she was sharing a secret.
"I was starting to think you didn't even like people. Girls, boys - anything warm-blooded."
"Do you ever shut up?" Artemis muttered, brushing past her.
"Not when I'm worried about my baby sister's heart." Cheshire turned, following. "Or her spine."
Artemis kept walking. "Didn't you have an errand to run?"
Cheshire smiled. "Oh, I ran it."
She snapped her fingers.
And that's when the chain dragged across the rooftop - heavy and metallic. A man stumbled forward, yanked into the light. Kneeling. Bound. Beaten within an inch of his life.
One eye swollen shut. Blood crusting along his temple. Breathing ragged, every inhale a struggle.
A thick chain was wrapped around his neck, leash-style. And Cheshire held the other end like it was a purse strap.
"He screamed a lot," she said lightly. "Then he started bargaining. Then he begged. Classic arc."
Artemis didn't flinch. Didn't blink.
"Do you always have to go overboard?"
Cheshire tilted her head, eyes gleaming beneath the mask. "It's what I do with boys who disappoint me."
She smiled. "Not role-model enough for you?"
"Feels personal," Artemis said flatly.
Cheshire clicked her tongue. "Everything's personal, sis."
She gave the chain a little tug. The man groaned. No resistance. Just pain.
Artemis didn't ask questions. Just looked at the man - barely conscious, barely a shape - and then back to her sister.
"You dragging him here for a reason?"
Cheshire tilted her head. "Thought you needed a reminder. You're not subtle. And Dad's not stupid."
Artemis's eyes narrowed. "I know where I stand."
"Do you?" Cheshire stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Because from where I'm standing, you're daydreaming on rooftops and letting bugs slip through your fingers."
Artemis didn't rise to it.
Cheshire smirked. "You are soft, Artemis. And dad knows it."
"I'm not soft."
"Then prove it." Cheshire demanded, extending one of her blades over to Artemis.
A long pause.
Artemis glanced at the blade, and then the body again. She didn't flinch.
Then: "Let's get this over with already."
🕸️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕸️
In a warehouse, the clang of steel echoed as sparks flew. Sportsmaster - a towering figure in a white mask - tightened his grip on a weighted chain and yanked it hard, letting it slam against a reinforced training dummy. The synthetic ribcage cracked, caving in with a satisfying crunch.
He didn't pause. Not even when footsteps rang from behind.
Crates towered around him, stacked like a fortress - illegal tech, stolen intel, untraceable weapons. Business was good.
"There they are," he said, his voice steady. "My favorite daughters."
The chain whipped through the air again, then stilled. He turned slowly, muscles coiled and relaxed like a predator at rest.
"Or should I say," he grinned, "favorite daughter."
Cheshire smirked beneath her mask, twirling a dagger lazily between two fingers. Artemis stood beside her, her expression a mix of impatience and something deeper. She said nothing.
"I was hoping you'd both have something worthwhile. Or at least entertaining." Sportsmaster's gaze flicked over them, waiting.
Cheshire casually let a burlap sack fall to the ground with a muted thud. Blood leaked from the bottom, pooling beneath it.
"Last surviving member of the heist crew that botched the blueprints job," she purred, her voice laced with that singsong menace. "Faked his death. Was about to change cities. Even grew a beard."
She nudged the sack with her boot. "I shaved it for him."
The sack opened just enough to reveal the head inside. Swollen. Missing teeth. Recognizable.
Sportsmaster grunted. "Took you long enough."
"I let him get comfortable," Cheshire said with pride. "That way he screamed louder."
"Good girl."
He turned to Artemis. "What of our bug problem?"
Artemis stood firm. "Escaped. But I tagged him. I know where he'll show up next."
He stepped forward, his gaze hard and piercing. "One of you brings results. The other brings excuses."
He cracked his neck, sizing her up. "Tell me you're not getting sentimental."
"I'm not."
Sportsmaster's eyes narrowed. Her arrogance always rubbed him the wrong way.
"Just playing the long game," Artemis said, unfazed. "As it stands, seems our intel was wrong."
She didn't flinch. "The blueprints were not the original."
Sportsmaster's expression tightened. "And you know this how?"
"By not caving in someone's skull, for starters," Artemis replied flatly. Cheshire growled. "By getting actual information."
Cheshire scoffed. "So now we're trusting the words of thieves?"
"Not trusting. Verifying," Artemis snapped. She tossed something at Sportsmaster - a torn, battered piece of paper, edges crumpled from too many hands.
He glanced at it briefly, then stepped aside as Cheshire unraveled it. The blueprint beneath was far from pristine - tattered, torn, and marked with bite marks.
"Are those bite marks?" Cheshire mused, inspecting the damage.
A beat of silence passed. Then, Sportsmaster chuckled darkly, low and amused.
"Acting like you're still playing both sides," he said with a sneer.
Artemis didn't flinch. "Anything else?"
He waved his hand dismissively, already turning back to the next training dummy. "Don't waste my time with more games. I want results - solid ones. Or blood. Preferably both."
Cheshire slid her dagger back into her belt with a lazy flick. "I'll bring you a scream next time."
"His scream," she added lowly, with a brief, but fairly menacing glance to Artemis.
Artemis turned toward the exit. "Let's just get this over with already."
🕸️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕷️🕸️
Jake couldn't shake the memory of last night's chase. Was it the way Artemis taunted him with words and arrows, or the close calls he had, letting his guard slip because he couldn't stop watching her? Every time she came near, it was like he was caught in her orbit, and despite everything he told himself, he didn't pull away.
He could've gotten away the moment she warned him. But he didn't. At one point, he even let her get close enough to brush past him - just to feel her touch.
This was wrong. So wrong. It went against everything he stood for: money, power, status. Women on the side, sure, but none too relevant to etch themselves into his mind so deeply. None to keep him awake, twisting with a strange excitement he couldn't explain.
"If I let this go on, Artemis will be the death of me," Jake muttered to himself, shaking his head. "And that would be the dumbest thing I've ever done."
Numb the nerves. Ignore the hormones. An assassin I admired once said that.
He dragged himself out of the bathtub, water dripping from his hair. The warm shower had helped clear his head, but the gnawing feeling in his gut wouldn't fade. He'd spent the night at some cheap hotel. The room service hadn't exactly been accommodating - no breakfast tray, no polite knock at the door. Just a couple of nosy staff members too eager to ask who he was and how he got in.
Now, two workers were suspended from the ceiling, webbed up and silent. He'd given them a moment to calm down before moving on.
There was no time to waste. The clock was ticking, and soon the cops would be crawling all over the place. Worse, Batman might show up, and that was the last thing he needed.
He shot webs at his suits, grabbing his gear and quickly suiting up. His movements were precise, efficient. He'd already checked for surveillance, neutralized the hidden cams, and taken care of the tracker Artemis had no doubt planted on him. He'd seen enough spy flicks to know that trick.
The suit fit better now - cleaner, more comfortable - but it still wasn't perfect. Not by a large margin.
Jake quickly packed up 'his' laptop, phone, and the same bundles of cash he probably couldn't use.
His mind ran through his checklist for the day:
•Find and upgrade a secret lair.
•Level up. It was time to step things up a notch.
•Stay far away from Artemis...
That last item hit him like a gut punch. Was it even possible?
He exhaled sharply, trying to shake off the feeling. Stay away from Artemis? Easier said than done. But if there was one thing that didn't sit right, it was the way she kept invading his thoughts.
The checklist felt ridiculous, and yet he couldn't ignore it. After raiding the Batcave, laying low was the smartest move. But the need to level up, to be prepared for what came next, was too strong. Sooner or later, Batman, the Team, and anyone else who mattered - would come for him. Better they find him at his peak, right?
That was the justification he kept telling himself. But deep down, only he knew the real reason he was pushing forward.
Jake slung the bag over his shoulder and moved toward the window. No more time to waste. As the commotion outside began to grow, he knew it was time to disappear. A single swing, and no one would have proof he'd ever been in that hotel at 0823 hours.
Some progress👇
Patreon.com/MimicLord...