Long, spectral shadows streatched out and away from the dying sun, straining to return to the protection the darkness provided. It was in these final moments that the sun unleashed it's most ferocious volley of attacks. It's dying rays piercing through even the darkest shadow, but then again she's not the sort of star to go down quietly. This battle was waged daily, high above the heads of the humans that dared to call the polluted penninsula that Gotham City now sits on, most never got to see the brilliance of the sun's final burst of glory, not now when the sky was guarded by the city's silent sentinels. Under the overbearing shadows of gotham's skyscrapers, night fell long before the sun had retreated to it's fox hole in the western sky. If it wasn't for the reflection of the bleeding disk that had once brought the city life in the millions of windows that compromised the faces of Gotham's permanent guardians, most inhabitents would be fooled to thinking that night had descended upon them, a trick the shadows [ and the monsters that lurked within them ] longed to play on it's unwillingy prey. As the shadows deepened with each passin gmoment so the more desperate the citizens of Gotham became to scurry into their suburban homes. To most outsiders the nightly journey home was a time to relax, to unwind from what was undoubtedly a stressful day, unlike the average man, woman and child of Gotham, the outsider was unaware of the monsters that lurked within the shadows. And, like the well-mannered hosts they are, the citizenry of Gotham rarely takes the time out of their own schedules to warn the outsiders. Survival was what mattered in this city, and everyone knew that if you walked outside after the sun had finally dipped below the horizon that not only were you an easy target, you were a mere fraction of the city's nightly offering of blood to it's predators. But dusk did not deter every citizen, there were a few who still braved the shadows for reasons only known to themselves and whatever strange following tagged along with them. These stray few usually haunted Gotham's downtown, staying close to the safety of the harsh neon lights like a moth to a warm flame. These men and women were either the rich and their own armada of bodyguards, or those that were protected, not by others but by blood and name. Only the insane ventured outside the haze of light and music, or they at least wanted you to believe them to be insane..

As night finally began to settle over Gotham's largest cemetary a sleek black BMW M6 rumbled through the otherwise quiet edifaces. The car was an unmistakable badge of wealth, from the world-recognized badge on the hood to the glossy and unmarred paint an aura of confidence flowed off of it with each new rumble from the massive engine. The reaction from the living onlookers that have the pleasure to gaze upon this gift from the car gods, think one of two things, Bruce Wayne or Mob, they were the only two that would be seen in such a flashy car, but both were far from the truth. From inside the heated, leather embossed cabin of the car it looked as if the silent faces of the various statues and angels that dotted the cemetary's skyline was staring down the car, as if trying to make it and it's driver turn the other way..But that wasn't happening, not tonight. As the car made it's way deeper into the cemetary the magic of the place seemed to silence the characteristic grumble of restless horses, wayward spirits seemed to guide the travelers closer towards their destination acting as ferrymen on this gravel and still somewhat smaller version of the river Styx. Finally the car came to a halt just past one of the larger mausoleums in the whole cemetary, in the imposing shadow of an ivy covered gate that marked an older section of the cemetary, a section that contained the most famous of names and even those that are so worn from time that not even their ghosts couldn't understand the faded words.

Silently the door of the sleek speed machine opened, and instead of a small man with glasses, wearing various racing enthusiast parapheneilia, the smooth, sculpted leg of a woman braved the shadows beyond. Slowly Andrea unfolded herself from the car, her eyes were locked forward, staring beyond the gate to what lurked beyond. She stepped aside and closed the door softly as to not disturb the countless residents this cemetary housed. Andrea had always had a special respect for the dead, whenever she hit a rough patch as she was attending Gotham University, she would walk to the cemetary and to the modest plot her dear mother Victoria now rested in, there she would stand for hours and talk to her mother, even though she never answered back it was still comforting. There was something about talking to the dead that made a hectic situation seem more relaxed, maybe it was the cemetary setting, maybe it was actually one of the stone faced angels reaching out and comforting her. Andrea would never know until she crossed that threshold herself..Steadily she made her way up the slight incline, eyes locked onto a point that was near invisible, unlike the massive monument to the Waynes. She paused next to the martyr's graves her eyes scanning the well kept marble, wondering if it was the butler that came out here weekly to maintain their memory, or if it was instead the son. She sneered at the thought of Bruce Wayne, but now wasn't the time to think about an arrogant playboy.

It only took a few more steps to reach her destination, a small slab of granite that marked the place where the first corner of her world was ripped away to reveal the dark destiny beneath it. When she saw the weeds that were growing over the engraved letters she sighed to hersef, kneeling down next to her mother's grave, "I knew I should have came yesterday before they attempted to mow the lawn..." Andrea let another sigh escape her before she tossed the weeds aside and stood up, brushing her hands off, "Bet you two would have told the guy a few choice words if you would have had been there, huh?"

If Andrea would have been paying more attention to her surroundings she would have sensed that she wasn't alone, but that's the sort of feeling one expects from a cemetary at dusk...Andrea stared forward, her ice blue eyes going cold and distant a look she usual hid behind a grim mask that was soon to be feared by those that were still responsible for her father's death. She took a breath before continuing, "I've kept my promise, to both of you.." She looked down at the lettering, there was only one name on the headstone but two bodies shared the same ground, one was her murdered father. "But it will take time to complete, something that there is plenty of..." She lowered her voice to a low whisper almost as if her sub-concious was aware of another living soul within the cemetary's walls, "That and blood..."

For a few more seconds, Andrea stood there in the growing darkness, silent as a statue and just as cold. Her time in the cemetary was when she would let her usual facade drop and actually be her own, twisted self. The sound of movement stirred a dark shadow within her, a shadow that thirsted for blood every second of every day. Instead of annoying the shadow and continuing on her conversation with her parents, she paused and snapped out of the fog of mourning and into the suffocating shadows that choked the life out of the angels every night. Steadily she relaxed and opened up her mind to her surroundings, unleashing the shadow to go search for the cause of this disturbance. Unlike most of Gotham's elite this auburn-haired goddess was not just a pretty face with an attitude, she was something that belonged in this cemetary, carved in marble watching over her parent's grave. When Andrea had first felt the urge to don the monicker of The Phantasm a part of her was still uneasy to accept the new personality into their shared lives. That gentle side of Andrea believed The Phantasm to be a demon, a hungry spectre that latched onto it's host out of lack of options, and what better option to have then an heiress who lost both of her parents to tragedy? For a short time before she first ventured out into the shadows as The Phantasm, Andrea listened to that little voice inside of her, she analyzed her course of revenge and blood from the point of view of the child her mother wanted her to be. She quickly reached her conclusion and the first night she spent as The Phantasm, that girl inside of her was murdered, a sacrifice The Phantasm craved, a sacrifice Andrea had to make, one she seldom thinks of anymore.

As Andrea stood there relaxed, the shadow reached out behind her, pointing with a crooked translucent finger to where the intruder lurked, and sure enough the intruder made herself known almost as if summoned. Andrea's head snapped to the side with the sudden cacophony of sounds that escaped from the girl's fall, she half-stepped so she could get a better view at the girl and watched as the shadow descended over the girl's small, prone frame. Andrea made her way over to the fallen girl, quicker then she had thought herself to be walking, or at least until she realized that the girl had gotten quite close to her before fate revealed the intruder to both her awareness and that of the dangerous shadow that coursed through her veins. That little fact in and of itself troubled Andrea, it rose countless questions within her mind about the girl that she was now looking down upon. Was she there because she was one of the countless strange people of Gotham? Did she listen in to what she had to her parents? Was she a member of the mob? How quietly could she kill the girl with her bare hands? All those questions flooded her mind but after a calming breath only one remained, why was this girl here?

If she would have had a knife or a gun she would have used that as her main point of intimidation, instead the only defenses she had was her expertise in a handful of martial arts. If this got into a fight, which Andrea doubted it would, she would probably gain the upperhand quite quickly. She narrowed her pale turquoise eyes at the girl and slowly crossed her arms, watching as the girl slowly looked up from assessing her wounds to look around, undoubtedly looking to see if Andrea had noticed her less then acrobatic fall. As she was staring down at the girl, who was now undoubtedly aware of her own presence next to her she felt the shadows creep into her thoughts once more, they wanted Andrea to kill the girl on site, she could have heard everything after all. Andrea merely shrugged them off, taking the reigns for once, she knew she had a reputation to keep up, and by golly, she was going to see to it that it stayed in tact. Without the cover of a princess of Gotham who was to stop the police from arresting her with ties to the dangerous murdering ghost that had so readily settled in Gotham? No one. She sighed, a small sound that only excuded her annoyance, "You know, that's an awefully strange place for a living girl to be in a cemetary...On the ground." She stepped to the side a bit, looking over to the Wayne's headstone and the imposing it still cast even in the fading light, "Paying your respects to someone?" Her town was anything but inviting, a more or less tell me why you were so close to me in the cemetary at dusk or I'll rip your head off, kind of vibe to it...