Bruce Wayne watched with interest what the news had to offer in his hotel suite at Chico, California. Displayed on the television screen were quick clips of a young girl masked as a brunette doll beating the shit out of two gang members who had attempted to rob a gas station. The television was the only light flickering in the room.

"She's got game," Dinah's voice made Bruce leap from his couch and whisk around to face her. "Any super powers?"

Bruce straightened out, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. "Doesn't look like it- just pure talent. Strange that we've never heard of her before, it seems like she's been here for a while. She goes by the alias Rag Doll."

"She certainly doesn't move like one, so quick and precise…" Dinah commented, placing a hand on her hip. "So she's the one we're keeping an eye on?"

"Yes."

"Should be easy enough," Dinah yawned, "as long as we can keep up with her. What's the information we have?"

"Not enough," Bruce answered. "In the morning we'll be heading out for resources. She's good enough at staying hidden."

"They'll be after her in the morning," Klarion's impeccably annoying voice grumbled as he reached up to scratch the head Teekl. He, too, was in Chico, appreciating the young girl whose movements were executed with unmatched deftness. Static came over the speaker of his hotel room phone, or was Queen Bee just hissing?

"Then we have to be first," growled the woman. "You'll get her attention tonight, before she's recruited for the brats."

"Me?" Klarion whined, at first annoyed. He considered it- toying with a brand new brat. What better way to spend time? "Alright," he giggled. "What did you have in mind?"

"Play a victim," Queen Bee's voice purred. "You know the rest of us can't make it out there, unfortunately, not that a teenager should be hard for you to round up."

"You got it," Klarion laughed before standing, turning off his communications system and heading for the door. IT sounded like such fun, toying with someone so shiny and new. It reminded him of how he had played the puppet master of the Justice League

"Mrrow," Teekl purred loudly.

"Hm?" Klarion looked down. "Oh, right- I should put on pants."

Playing the victim to lure a potential super side-kick was a more difficult situation than Klarion originally thought. He had narrowed his ideas to one out of an original three; yell for help, beat someone up, or get beat up. The first was a see-through plan- the hero would easily see that he was screaming for help with no threats and see the trap. The second, beating someone up, while fun would surely result in a brawl between Rag Doll and himself, ending with force to get her back to his team, The Light. So that left getting beat up, or at least luring someone after him. This would be so much easier if Queen Bee could just mesmerize some guys into cornering me, Klarion growled to himself. But Teekl's meow was correct, the entire Light team was too focused on Vandal's new plan, or at least picking up the pieces of his old one. Picking up a little brat to turn into a possible programmed mole or even a squad member (if she proved evil enough) was just a side mission for the Witch Boy to figure out.

Klarion peered around a grotesque and grimy corner and stared down the empty street ahead. With his dark tabby familiar around his shoulders, the Witch Boy stepped out into the ugly, pale light of a streetlamp, illuminating his slender figure and unique hair-do with V-shaped bangs and devil horns gelled out of his messy, black hair. Or maybe it just fell like that. As he walked down, his formal shoes clicked, dark suit almost blending with the black night air. A short quest turned into a midnight stroll within the desolate streets until a rough, troubling voice echoed from across the street.

"A little fancy don't you think?" Klarion turned his head to face the voice and grinned as a man of intimidating stature stepped into the yellow light of the other side of the street. A clear mutt thug, of course the brute would be interested in Klarion's suit.

"What, this old thing?" The man seemed to cringe a little at Klarion's heinously annoying voice. Klarion placed his black nailed hands on his slender waist with a grin. "You should see what else I buy." With his slender fingers he plucked from his inner jacket pocket a fat leather wallet. It caught the thug's attention, as it was meant to.

"Hand it over and I won't kill you," the man growled, beginning to approach with a greedy stare. iAll too easy,/i Klarion smirked to himself.

"Have to catch me first!" he called in a childish and daunting manner, taking off. He was able to keep his speed as he turned corners wildly, thrust into a dark maze of alleyways and listening for the following footsteps that came pounding soon after. Perfect. Tight turns led to a welcome dead end, where Klarion cornered himself and whipped around. No escape, for anyone, really. Here they would wait, Klarion pulling Mr. Thug's strings until what's-her-face arrived, if he needed to. The irritated mutt came around the corner, and Klarion watched as he slowed and savored his approach. Klarion himself savored it before letting a loud, bloodcurdling shriek escape his lungs. It seemed to startle the man, make him momentarily weary even, but it was only an ephemeral moment before he charged at the Witch boy. "Looks like we'll have to start without her," Klarion mumbled all too soon. The strange girl had jumped down so fast that Klarion found himself wondering where she had even come from. Thin air? Possible. She almost seemed to be a shadow, a girl dressed in tight black with a doll mask and flowing brunette hair. Her body was lean andstrong, muscles rippling through the tight costume, but nothing was as admirable as her skill. Klarion watched with interest as her kicks hit so high that they broke the mutt's jaw, and her punches landed so hard that they cracked his nose sideways. Blood welled over he hands and black shoes, splattering onto pavement and walls. She twirled and jumped up, dodged and kicked out with a defiant and cunning quickness, almost in a playful manner by the end of it- the smile of her doll mask certainly led Klarion to believe this. The sound produced from her shin colliding with the man as she kicked out- and she did strike him with her shins, not her feet, mostly- was so loud that Klarion guessed she was well trained in kick boxing, at least. Within moments the man fled, nothing of his left behind but scarlet blood.

"Well done," Klarion purred, putting a hand on his hip. She turned and faced him, appearing to have little intention of disappearing into thin air. He scanned her mask, carefully made and painted into a creepy grin. Her eyes were covered by black fabric so that he could not see into it but knew she could see out of it.

"You look familiar," She answered. Her voice was demanding and cold. "Who are you?"

"Take your mask off and I'll tell you," Klarion answered. She took a step back.

"Your voice is horrible," she hissed. "Are you sick?"

Klarion frowned, "No! Who are you anyways?"

"Rag Doll," she answered, cocking one hip out and placing a delicate hand on it. "Don't you watch the news?" She was trying Klarion's thin temper and patience.

"Just take off your mask," he answered, keeping the itching, commanding tone from his voice.

"No."

"Come on, I won't tell." He caught it before it happened, the way she drew her arms into her body and clenched the muscles of her legs let him know she was about to spring back up onto the rooftops and disappear. Well this just wouldn't do, so Klarion acted first, outstretching his hands and letting a painful burst of red magic fly and hit her hard. A wail of excruciating pain rang out as she seized up before collapsing onto her knees before him. She fell onto her palms, turning her visage towards him in time to see his foot fly into her face, sending her mask flying off and herself sprawling backwards. It was shocking- but nothing she wasn't used to.

"Meow!" Klarion looked over at the fallen mask and noted what Teekl had caught as well- her hair was a wig sewn into the doll disguise. He looked back over at her, intrigued as she sat up. Her hair was not brown, but red as blood. It was not flowing and wavy but choppy and short in the back and long in the front, so long in comparison that it's jagged form covered part of her left cheek and eye. It was an interesting hairdo and slightly attractive in its rebellious cut, but not as interesting as her eyes. They were a fiery gold, snake like pupils widening in the darkness and catching light that made them reflective and almost haunting.

"So you do have superpowers," Klarion grinned as he examined her eyes. She wiped blood from her chin before flinging herself off of the concrete and flying at him with a furious yell. He zapped her once more, sending her sprawling on the cement. "Whoops," Klarion slipped out apathetically. "Alright lady, we can do this the easy way or the painful way. The latter is more fun."