Bat-Stallion: Arkhoof City      by  GaryGibbon

Hello! GaryGibbon here! This is my first fanfic (so please go easy on me if my writing style isn’t exactly up to Kkat standards), and as you can obviously guess by the title, this is a crossover fic between your favourite ponies and Batman: Arkham City. I might do Arkham Asylum after this, but for now, enjoy the show.

My Little Pony and all related locations, characters etc. belongs to Hasbro. Batman and any related locations, characters etc. belongs to DC Comics. Batman: Arkham City belongs to Rocksteady Studios.

Prologue :Won’t you help a pretty mare find her stuff?

Bored. Look up the word in a dictionary and you’ll find this:

1. To weary by dullness, tedious repetition, unwelcome attentions, etc. E.g Bone Head was bored out of his freaking mind, thanks to this guard duty his boss was forcing him to do.

Granted, the actual example used in the book was much simpler, but judging by how the last four hours of waiting had gone, Bone Head was convinced that his new definition was official.  Bone Head (Arson, 15 years), referred to as “Prisoner 8254” by the sadistic mercenaries that ran Arkhoof City, was an Earth Pony stallion with peach-coloured fur and a skull for a cutie mark. He, like the 5 other criminals in the office he was guarding, was wearing the crimson and grey jumpsuit that marked him as belonging to Two-Mane’s gang. Although he was supposed to be guarding something in the room, along with waiting for the mob boss to show up, Two-Mane neglected to mention what exactly they were supposed to be guarding, on account of that blasted bit she carried around like a safety blanket, and the annoying habit of flipping the coin to choose for her whenever she had to make a decision. This applied to everything, from eating breakfast to being accepted into her gang. The motley crew assembled in front of him had only managed to get through due to sheer luck. And this motley crew were just as bored as he was. He wondered over to the group, who had somehow managed to get cigarettes and were merrily puffing away, smoke beginning to fill the room.

“Oy, pretty girl, give us a fag, would you?” Bone Head asked the indigo-coloured pegasus mare (Murder, 30 years) holding the cigarette pack. After hesitating for a moment, she tossed him one. “Alright, but you only get one, you understand? I’ve gotta make these last my whole sentence. Giving 5 of them to you guys is about as generous I’ll ever get. Birdie over there has the lighter,” she replied. Putting the cigarette in his mouth, he made his way over to the griffon (Chick Abuse, 20 years) who had the lighter perched between talon and thumb. Bone Head smiled, and took the lighter out of his talons. He looked up, startled for a moment, before scowling:

“Next time just ask, horsie boy.” The bird-lion hybrid drawled in a thick Stalliongrad accent. Recognising the challenge implied in his voice, Bone Head retorted:

“Don’t ever call me that again, birdie, or I’ll smash your beak open and piss in your mouth.”

“Heh. I’d like to see you try, pony.” Bone Head ignored the confident smirk on the pretentious griffon’s mouth (the craving he hadn’t satisfied in weeks was rearing its ugly head) as he flicked the lighter open and lit the cigarette. Ecstasy washed over him as the nicotine took hold, and he puffed out a ring of smoke.

“Man, I’ve missed these,” he dopily said as he lost himself in the haze that came with taking drugs. He was content to simply stand there, enjoying himself. The mind-crushing boredom that once seemed inescapable had been lifted, for now.  He dreamily began thinking of luxuries that seemed trivial in the outside city of Gothoof. Nice, hot food, running water, hot mares,  warm clothes, hot mares, clean beds, hot food with hot mares, hot ma-

CLICK

CREEEAAAKKK

“Look what I found!” cried a black unicorn stallion (Armed robbery, 10 years, no chance of parole) who was standing next to a painting of the sibling alicorns Helios and Lunord, the Sun god cradling the broken body of his brother in his arms. The paining was on a latch, and behind it, hidden away, was a safe. Just like in the movies, Bone Head realised. After checking to make sure there were no TV cameras hidden away, he shouted at the unicorn:

“How in Celestia’s name did you manage to find that?”

“Magic! I just used the same spell I used to locate where banks kept the bits!”

“You mean you knew all that time?”

“No, it just occurred to me to cast the spell.”

“Don’t touch it, man, or she’ll kill you!” said the pegasus mare, who had a worried look on her face. Bone Head didn’t know whether the warning was because she feared for him or herself.

“Alright. Close the safe latch. Now that we know where it is, we can guard it properly, instead of sitting around doing fuck all.”

Half an hour later, the cigarette had gone, and with its loss came not only the boredom that threatened to squeeze him dry, but extreme irritation. Either the Boss was in trouble, or she had decided not to show up. He asked, more to himself than to anypony particular:

“When the hell is the Boss gonna show up?” A Diamond Dog replied:

“She’ll be here. Don’t stress yourself about it.”

“Moneybags said he saw the Bat. Is he here too?” a lilac-coloured Earth pony mare asked. Bone Head felt his blood run cold at the mere mention of the dreaded crimefighter’s name, and he suppressed a fearful shudder. Bone Head had encountered the Bat himself once. He broke three of Bone Head’s ribs. They still hurt today, although it was only a ghost of past pain, and had learnt to live with it. There were many, many rumours concerning the Caped Crusader, who waged his one-man war against criminals, be they gimmick, petty, mob bosses, etc. That he was some rich businessman whose life was deeply affected by criminals, that he was more bat than stallion, that he had even defeated Super-stallion. Bone Head dismissed them as mere rumours. He had seen the Bat before. He was definitely a mere stallion (albeit one dressed like a lunatic and armed to the teeth). And no stallion could ever hope to stand against the alien powerhouse that is Super-stallion. The Diamond Dog, noting the group’s fearful expressions, replied:

“In Arkham City? Why would he come here? To have some fun? Believe me, he is nothing but pure business. He wouldn’t don his cape for the sheer purpose of enjoying a good night out at our expense. By the ancestors, you guys just need to relax. Calm down. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.”

Then the window nearest to them shattered into a million pieces, light reflecting off the jagged shards of liquid sand, casting shadows all over the room. Of course, since they were talking about Bat-Stallion, somepony had to say:

“Oh shit! It’s the Bat-Stallion!”

Everypony in the room went into full combat mode; combat stances readied, the pegasus and griffon levitating mid-air, the unicorn floating a heavy piece of steel pipe he had managed to procure from somewhere. Their hearts were racing, and they were prepared to beat whatever had caused that into sludge. Nothing prepared them for what they saw.

Standing amidst the razor-sharp pieces of glass, a single pony stood. He, no, she, was wearing a tight black bodysuit, with apparently nothing underneath, the suit zipped down revealing the mare’s cleavage and nothing else.  She wore high fake leather boots, and around her neck was what appeared to be a collar, with a silver decoration in the shape of a cat’s face hanging off it. Her mane was hidden by a hood, with pointed ears shaped like a cat’s. Orange-tinted aviation goggles rested atop this hood. She was wearing flattering make-up that enhanced her natural drop-dead gorgeousness. At her hip rested a fake leather whip. It was Cat-Mare, Bone Head realised. She must be after whatever was in the safe! She slowly strolled forwards to the group as they formed a perimeter around the safe, and simply stated:

“I should be insulted, being called that ungentlecoltly brute. But, I’m sorry to disappoint you, gentlecolts.” Flick. Flick. From out of her hooves sprouted gem-shard talons, each one glinting nastily in the artificial light that bathed the room. She put on  a sultry confident smile, and began walking to the safe. Bone Head had had enough of this arrogant behaviour. He snorted and pawed at the ground, before charging straight at her. The last thing he heard before all hell was released was the immortal one-liner:

“It’s just little old me.”

Rarity wasn’t exactly impressed with Two-Mane’s security. Only 6 goons protecting her gear? “Oh, please.”  Two-Mane would need a lot more goons than that to keep the Cat away. And even then, they’d have to be armed to the teeth to stop her. “Let’s just get this over with”, she thought as she deployed her custom-made gem-shard talons, razor-sharp gemstones glinting evilly in the artificial light. Suddenly, an ugly peach Earth Pony charged at her, launching the thugs’ assault. Rarity struck first with two swift jabs to the face, before jumping into the air and bucking him in the face, sending him sprawling. A Diamond Dog had taken advantage of the distraction his friend had caused to sneak up behind her and he swung a fist straight at her head. Catmare nimbly ducked underneath the clumsy blow, before cartwheeling, sending one leg into his midriff and another one into the side of his head, bowling him over. She used the momentum provided by the cartwheel to flip herself onto her four hooves and to send a leg careening straight into a pegasi’s snout, before pushing herself down and spinning herself, legs in the air, to knock over another Earth pony. She was like liquid, fluidly jumping from one thug to the next, performing a series of bone-shattering martial arts moves that sent the unlucky thugs reeling from the fury of attacks. She ducked underneath a griffon’s swung talon, before jamming her forehoof into the nerve cluster in between socket and arm, punching his windpipe, and then she leapt, slamming a knee into his face-and straight into an Earth pony’s outstretched fist, connecting hard with her jaw. The thugs took heart at the sight of one of their own managing to halt the relentless onslaught, and renewed their attack on Catmare. Thinking quickly, Catmare vaulted over the Diamond Dog, swept his legs from underneath him, and forced him to the floor, dislocating his arm as she did so. “Alright. One down, five more to go.” The thugs were beginning to tire: she could see that it wouldn’t be long before they were all down, nursing their wounds. Rarity grabbed her whip, and cracked it in a couple of ponies’ faces, the thugs instinctively reeling from the sharp fake leather belt. She knocked one down and stuck her windpipe. Hard. As the mare spluttered from lack of air, she grabbed a hind leg aimed her way, and broke it, almost as an afterthought. She ducked another swung talon, and grabbed it, before breaking the griffon’s forearm. She pulled the legs out from underneath a zebra, before sending a forehoof crashing into his face. After that particularly brutal assault only one pony remained. And that pony was- where was he? He was ri-

CRACK.

The room started spinning, and Rarity cursed herself for letting her guard down. Behind her, a black unicorn swung a steel pipe menacingly. He laughed.

“Take that, you goddamn cat-bitch!”

He made for another swing, but Catmare was ready for it this time. She grabbed the pipe midswing, before snatching it out of his hands, cracking his jaw with an uppercut, and swinging the pipe with all her might into the unlucky goon’s ribcage. She heard bones splinter, and the unicorn fell down, pain creasing his, admittedly rather handsome face. The room was completely clear. She sighed.

“Well, now that little bother’s been taken care of, it’s time to get what I came for from the safe.”

She slunk over to the hidden door, slipping the latch. She was greeted by a combination safe. “Foal's play.” She cracked the code easily, long years of cat burglary having honed her talents to the extreme. It was rumoured that nopony could crack safes as fast as Catmare. The combination clicked, and she swung the safe door open. Inside were a number of .22 calibre wristpistols and spilt paper bits, and a memory chip. She couldn’t resist smiling.

“Try to get one over on me, Justice? I don’t think so.”

She took the chip and plugged it into her smartphone. In moments, the minicomputer had deciphered the long streams of binary into a map. A map of her ultimate goal; the reason why she had gone into Arkhoof City in the first place. She smiled. Now, all she had do to was to get out of the room before Two-Mane got here, and-

CLICK

“Get your filthy paws off that, now.”  Two-Mane’s gravelly voice rang out. Rarity was reminded of coarse sand being ground up into glass.

As she felt the barrel of a wristpistol press into the side of her head, only one single sentence raced through her suddenly vacant mind.

“Oh, crap.”