Jacqueline Margaret Murdock | Daredevil (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
guardian_devil) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
nextgenerationmarvel2014-10-14 12:17 pm
guardian_devil) wrote in nextgenerationmarvel2014-10-14 12:17 pm
Devil's in the Details
Matt Murdock had explicitly told his daughter that as Daredevil’s sidekick, Acrobat could do no adventuring or detective work on her own. Acrobat couldn’t engage directly with the big bads or anything.
Good thing I’m not Acrobat anymore.
She’d had the costume tucked away in the back of her closet. A black and yellow costume, with familiar yellow initials emblazoned across the chest and a horned cowl. It hadn’t been easy, getting that costume together without her father’s knowledge, but Mags had managed. She hadn’t really considered wearing the costume for a long while yet, but with her father incapacitated thanks to whoever had tried to kill him…
And the list of suspects for that dubious honor is longer than Rapunzel’s braid.
Well, Acrobat had to be retired. After all, Matt had never said that Daredevil couldn’t go out and bust some heads on her own, right?
Mags smiled thinly to herself as she fought a nameless hoodlum on top of the Church of St. Malachy. Famously, it was a church for the theatre community, which felt fitting to Mags tonight. After all, it was her first night out as Daredevil, and she felt oddly as though she was playing dress up in daddy’s clothes. Though to be fair, I felt the same way with my Acrobat look, though it was decidedly less costumey than this. She’d grow into this look, this identity, as well. You know. As long as Dad allows me to. Or, you know, if this guy lets me.
She blocked another incoming punch and fired a bolt of pyrokinetic energy at the hoodlum’s knife, heating it enough for him to drop it and for her to kick it away.
“Fighting on top of a church,” Daredevil said, “the Catholic schoolgirl in me is mortified.” She whirled around and attacked with a hook kick, knocking him out. “Alright, and a little thrilled.” She kneeled down next to the hoodlum and did a quick search of his pockets, looking for any identifying information. Nothing. She wasn’t certain if he’d just been there or someone had sent him after her.
Though why would anyone? It’s my first night out as Daredevil. They couldn’t possibly have been looking for me. Granted, Hell’s Kitchen - or Midtown West, as I insist on calling it - did have it’s fair share of crime. This could be entirely unconnected. On top of a church, though? Doubtful.
She stood up and surveyed the area around her before putting in an anonymous call to the police. No other hoodlums. Her eyes narrowed behind her cowl. It’s been a week and I still have no answers about who tried to kill Dad. That’s not choice. She’d chased down some leads, some obvious suspects, but none of it had led to anything.
Two mysteries to solve. One, figure out who my mom is and find out why Dad wants so desperately to keep her a secret. Two, find out who tried to kill Dad. Let’s hope I don’t need to take on a third.
Good thing I’m not Acrobat anymore.
She’d had the costume tucked away in the back of her closet. A black and yellow costume, with familiar yellow initials emblazoned across the chest and a horned cowl. It hadn’t been easy, getting that costume together without her father’s knowledge, but Mags had managed. She hadn’t really considered wearing the costume for a long while yet, but with her father incapacitated thanks to whoever had tried to kill him…
And the list of suspects for that dubious honor is longer than Rapunzel’s braid.
Well, Acrobat had to be retired. After all, Matt had never said that Daredevil couldn’t go out and bust some heads on her own, right?
Mags smiled thinly to herself as she fought a nameless hoodlum on top of the Church of St. Malachy. Famously, it was a church for the theatre community, which felt fitting to Mags tonight. After all, it was her first night out as Daredevil, and she felt oddly as though she was playing dress up in daddy’s clothes. Though to be fair, I felt the same way with my Acrobat look, though it was decidedly less costumey than this. She’d grow into this look, this identity, as well. You know. As long as Dad allows me to. Or, you know, if this guy lets me.
She blocked another incoming punch and fired a bolt of pyrokinetic energy at the hoodlum’s knife, heating it enough for him to drop it and for her to kick it away.
“Fighting on top of a church,” Daredevil said, “the Catholic schoolgirl in me is mortified.” She whirled around and attacked with a hook kick, knocking him out. “Alright, and a little thrilled.” She kneeled down next to the hoodlum and did a quick search of his pockets, looking for any identifying information. Nothing. She wasn’t certain if he’d just been there or someone had sent him after her.
Though why would anyone? It’s my first night out as Daredevil. They couldn’t possibly have been looking for me. Granted, Hell’s Kitchen - or Midtown West, as I insist on calling it - did have it’s fair share of crime. This could be entirely unconnected. On top of a church, though? Doubtful.
She stood up and surveyed the area around her before putting in an anonymous call to the police. No other hoodlums. Her eyes narrowed behind her cowl. It’s been a week and I still have no answers about who tried to kill Dad. That’s not choice. She’d chased down some leads, some obvious suspects, but none of it had led to anything.
Two mysteries to solve. One, figure out who my mom is and find out why Dad wants so desperately to keep her a secret. Two, find out who tried to kill Dad. Let’s hope I don’t need to take on a third.