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Gotham.
Gotham, the most crime ridden city in the states. abandoned by the government and separated from the rest of the country due to its dark nature, no hero's or outside forces dare touch Gotham or else they may anger the lady of the labyrinth. Gotham city, said to be alive, the city seeming to breathe no matter how toxic the air, seems to drink no matter how poisoned the waters are, seem to listen no matter the chaos that distracts many. Gotham is a place of death and mutiny, yet she held close to her heart a treasure she held dear. Batman. once a boy who saw his parents fall to a gun, once a boy to sat in the blood of his guardians, a boy who lost something yet gained something that same fateful night.
lady of the labyrinth loved her bat and his birds, she gifted them strength, stamina and agility as well as their less human side. she'd turned these lost souls of Gotham into her protectors, her warriors, her children. at night Gotham breaths and at night song fill the air, the flock she held dear flew through Gothams alleys and jumped across its rooves. the flock protected the city and in turn it watched them back, ensuring non were ever truly lost.
the songs of the night, almost impossible sounds that echoed through the city's highs and lows, how the flock spoke to one another. smooth and fast were the sounds, sounds no normal person should be able to achieve. every night, from dusk to dawn the sounds echoed. sometimes playful, sometimes more mellow and wary. the civilians of Gotham had come to learn the songs of the night meant safety for those who needed it and pain for those who deserved it. the songs could never be followed, never traced, a gift that no one but the flock could use when it came to calling upon one another.
for the outside world, the flock was nothing but a ghost story to tell children when they wouldn't lie down for bed, a rumor that was chalked up to myth made up by one of the many psychopaths held in Arkham. the world didn't believe in batman, didn't believe in the black and blue man who could bend in no way a normal person could, didn't believe in the red and blacked shadow who could find anything, didn't believe in the brightly dressed cloaked figure who held a sword to the throats of the dammed. who would? who would believe that the city breathed, who would believe that the city listened to its people's cries, who would believe in the knights that protect the lady of the labyrinth? the answer was no one, no one who didn't live in Gotham that was. for Gothams people knew well of the shadows that protected them, protected lady Gotham.