DC: New Age Volume I IC Thread

[Byrd Man]

​

I swing off into the night sky and my smile couldn't be in bigger.

"Wow, Johnny. We kicked some serious ass, scratch that. I kicked some serious ass."


John just shakes his head as we land on a rooftop. I look down at the watch underneath my glove.

"Damn, it's almost two in the morning. I told dad I was sleeping over at my buddy Chuck's house. Guess I need to come up with some better lies from now on. He said he had a time convinving Grandpa Jack about his late night activites before he told him he was Robin. I have a feeling he'd see right through my lame excuses."

Sirens ring out through the night and all thoughts of my father are pushed out my head. The sirens are soon accompined by the sound of a helicopter flying through the night.

"I have a funny feeling that the whirly bird I hear isn't for those thugs we beat up."



​

 

[The Question]

Metropolis is going through something of a transitional period. The term being used, of course, much in the same way it's used when someone is trying to sugarcoat the fact that a relative is slowly and painfully dying as cancer is devouring them from the inside out with a bit of philosophy that doesn't really help.

Before the citizens no what's happening, The Joker has already slaughtered 100 people. He cuts a swath of destruction and chaos through Glenmorgan Square and now makes his way down Topaz Lane, leaving fear, pain, and death in his wake. Unsure of what's going on, some go outside to see what all the noise is coming from. That was their first mistake. As they see the image of The Joker hovering in the air, floating towards them like a spectral Harlequin, they stand there, confused and slightly scared. That was their second. Once he starts levitating cars and dropping them on people, they start thinking that mayber it's a good idea to run.

That was their third.

As they make their futile atempts to save themselves, the people of the city hear a cruel, mocking sound, which in many cases willl be the last thing they ever hear.

Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here.
Life is skittles and life is beer.
I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring.
I do, don't you? 'Course you do.
But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me,
And makes ev'ry Sunday a treat for meee.

He telikinetically crushes the support beams of several builings in the imediate area, cauring them to collapse.

"All the world seems in tune
On a spring afternoon,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the paaark.
Ev'ry Sunday you'll see
My sweetheart and me,
As we poison the pigeons in the paaark."

He spots a small croud of people running away from him.

"When they see us coming, the birdies all try an' hide..."

He emits a green gas. It quickly engulfs them. Their flesh burns, their eyes melt, and their lungs fill with a mix of blood and a blackis-yellowish puss that, in retrospect, wasn't really worth mentioning.

"But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyan-iiide."

He generates a ball of gass, tosses it into the air, and telikinetically sparks it, creating a massive fire ball and sending small fireballs in every direction.

"The sun's shining bright,
Ev'rything seems all right,
When we're poisoning pigeons in the paaark."

The Joker floats down to the ground, and kneels beside a frightened, crying child.

"We've gained notoriety,
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With oouur games."

He stands up as four pollice cars screech around the corner.

"They call it impiety,
And lack of propriety,
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant naames."

The officers get out of the car and open fire. The Joker stops the bullets mid-air, and sends them hurtling back at the officers, leaving them to do their best impression of Swis Cheese.

"But it's not against any religion..."

He creates a large, old fasioned lolly pop and gives it to the child. Then, he quickly rises back into the air.

"To want to dispose of a pigeooon."

He grabs a person off the street, and carries her like a groom would carry a bride over the threshold.

"Sooo if Sunday you're free,
Why don't you come with me,
And we'll poison the pigeons in the paaark.
And maybe we'll do
In a squirrel or two,
While we're poisoning pigeons in the paaark."

He ignites several gas tanks, causing a mass of several explosions.

"We'll murder them all amid laughter and merriment."

He looks at the woman in his arms, and begins stroaking her hair.

"Except for the few we take home to experiment."

Quite naturally, she screams.

"My pulse will be quickenin'
With each drop of strychnine
We feed to a pigeon.
It just takes a smidgen!
To poison a pigeon in the paaaark."

 

[trustyside-kick]

"...she was a redhead. Guess I share my father's weakness. Who could blame me?"

Orin's smile quickly fades, and he walks over to his throne. He stops, lowers himself into his chair, and sighs.

"...who could blame you."

There is an odd tension in the room, and Owen feels the worst for bringing up anything even close to reminding his father of Mera. But as he thinks about it, it was a good thing. He almost got caught up in talking with his father again, that he almost forgot why he came. He walks over to his dad, and pulls up a chair from the side, sitting down. He puts his hand on his dad's shoulder. And then, he goes for it.

"Dad...please tell me something about mom. Anything. Please. Don't...Don't walk away this time. Don't shut me out. It's all you've been doing...and it's all I've been doing."

There was no use in dodging it. Twenty years Orin's been dodging it. If he is to take Garth's advice, as he knows he should...he cannot avoid it.

"Close your eyes, Owen. I want you to think of the best memory you've ever had. Think carefully, and I'll do the same."

Orin closes his eyes, and it takes a while for Owen to respond, but when he sees his father is serious, he does the same. Owen reaches the darkest corners of his mind, trying to dig up old memories that brought him great joy. He goes farther and farther back, til he hits his childhood...when he realizes he went too far back. He didn't have to go that far back in time at all. Owen opens one of his eyes, and peeks to his side, seeing his father still with his eyes closed.

"Now, open your eyes. Tell me...how old is this memory?"

"Not old at all."

"Recent then?"

"...very.

"So what was it?"

Owen hesitates to respond back, for he is afraid of how his father will respond; so he tries to get around by saying it without truly saying it.

"A picture...actually, an artist rendering."

"Really? And what was it a picture of?"

"I...I cannot really describe it much, dad. I cannot find the words."

"Then you've truly found your best memory. You asked me to tell you something about your mother...I feel the same. Words cannot describe her..."

Owen turns his head to the side, and Orin opens his eyes. He pulls his arm off of Orin's shoulder, and takes a deep breath.

"...but I can try."

Owen turns back, facing Orin, and like a little boy about to be told a bedtime story, he looks on with much anticipation.

"You wake up, but you swear you're dreaming. And when she looks into your eyes, you wonder how you could've lived without her...it's a good dream. She smiles...and it's as if she gives off an aura, an aura that takes away all your worries. She laughs...and it's right there and then, that you know nothing else could ever change the way you care about her. Her...her touch...is as soothing as it is soft."

With his father's words alone, Owen is able to summon a picture in his mind. Without intention to, Owen closes his eyes. A smile comes upon his face as a tear rolls down it. Orin holds back his emotions, turning his head away from his son, and placing his hand upon his shoulder. As Owen doesn't notice his father's touch, he doesn't even at first realize the change in Orin's tone and words.

"And then she leaves you...only to come back, holding your son. He's a strong lad, he is; some say he is more like his father. But he has his mother's eyes...and you thank the gods that everything that is good about him, he gets from his mother."

Owen's eyes suddenly open wide as he hears his father's conclude. He looks to his shoulder, where his father's hand seems to slip away suddenly, and catches it. Orin turns his head, and Owen pulls him inward, embracing him in a hug.

"...Everything that is good in me...I get from the both of you, dad."

The two break apart from their hug, and Orin pats Owen on the head, and then rubs Owen's hair like he did when he was a boy; but Owen doesn't react like he normally did as a boy. He doesn't whine or try to break away from his father's hold; Owen smiles. Orin gets up from the throne, and starts to walk towards the door. As he opens it, he turns his head back at Owen.

"So now can you put your fondest memory into words?"

"Yea...I think."

"And?"

Owen is silent for a moment. It isn't that he is searching for the words to describe it, he knows exactly how to say it. What he is searching for are other words...he isn't ready to tell his father yet.

"...I was nine. I think I was...playing, with a few sea creatures near the outer dome, when I accidentally seemed to somehow penetrate it. It was like the magical water was like any other ordinary water."

"Haha. Yes, I remember that. A good memory, that is. Garth thought I was too hard on you that day when the guards brought you home. I suppose I was. So that was your best memory, huh? I thought you said it was recent? And wasn't it a picture?"

Orin smirks and closes the door behind him, as he notices that Owen doesn't respond back. Owen puts his hands on his face, as if stressed out. His father was listening, and listening well. It's as if his father somewhat knows, but not at the same time. He knew his son wasn't being 100% honest, but he did not push it. A few seconds pass by, and he removes his hands. He's alone in the throne room, yet still he speaks.

"Actually...no. My best memory was seeing that picture of you and mom..."
​

 

[The Question]

The Joker stands in the middle of what looks like a war zone. All around him, bodies are strewn, fires rage, and buildings are little more than rubble.

He scratches his nose.

"I'm bored."

His arm shifts and streaches and grows, until in his hand he holds a long, purple cane with a red and black Jester head handle. He strolls down the street, and every so often uses the cane to push a body or a body part out of his path.

"It may not be home, but I love Metropolis. I really do. I just need to find one of the old..."

He stops, dead in his tracks, as the glint of the sun shining off a large, golden globe atop a building catches his eye.

"...haunts."

As one would expect him to, The Joker smiles.



James Olsen is under a certain amount of stress, to say the very least. He's been under stress quite alot since he became Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Planet. He'd delt with city wide riots, bombs sent to the newspaper, a war, and more than a few close shaves with the deadline. Often, in his quieter moments between the waves of ulcer causing stress, he's thought that he was never really meant for this job. That it should have gone to Lois Lane.

But Lois is dead, and there's nothing to be done about that.

Now, however, James has, with reports of mass destruction and one call that said that Glenmorgan Square was "gone," probably reached and surpased his stress limit a few times over.

At the moment, he's just finished screaming at one of his reporters to get down on the street and find out what is going on, albiet with a few more explatives than I feel are apropriate to repeat at this time, and has sat down in the big chair behind his desk. He takes a cigar out of his desk drawer, puts it in his mouth, and reaches for a match.

"What the hell is going on out there?"

Before he can lite his cigar, the flame suddenly goes out.

"You shouldn't smoke, you know."

James quickly turns around. There, standing behind him, is good ol' Uncle Jay. He looks down at James with a big, toothy grin.

"It'll kill you."

He walks around the desk and sits down opposite of James. James is at something of a loss for words.

"So, Jimmy, you're the boss around here these days?" says The Joker.

"...this is impossible."

"No, dear boy, imposible is a plane yellow pumpkin becoming a golden carraige. This is just really, really wierd."

"You did all of this, didn't you?"

"All of what?"

"All..all the killing. The explosions."

The Joker laughs. It's not a cold, inhuman laugh as one would usually hear from a psychotic master criminal. He's genuinely amues.

"What do you think?"

The Joker stands up, and begins walking around the room, looking at things. He stops to pick up a picture of James' family on his desk.

He looks at James and smiles.

"You have a lovely family."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why?"

The Joker sets the picture down on the table, and the smile fades from my face.

"You know, I used to ask that myself, some times. Not all of this, but my old life. Before my...baptism in the chemical plant. The stealing, and the hurting, and the drinking. "What the **** are you doing?" I was pretty pathetic, back then. Just a petty thief with father issues and a bad temper. At first, I told myself that I needed to do it to survive. Gotham's East End isn't a fair or caring place. And when you're there, on your own, that's when you find out what kind of person you are, because you realize what you're willing to do. But it wasn't just that. I was angry at the world, and numb inside. And that's why I was atracted to that lifestyle in the first place. I commited crimes so I could feel. And when I didn't like how it felt, that's when I turned to good ol' Jack Daniels. I was circling the drain. I knew it. But I was too damn weak to pull myself out of it."

A smile begins to creep across his face. But this isn't his usual smile. This is the smile of a serial killer when he sees blood.

"But then, oh, then I tried to pull a job at Axis Chemicals. And I fell into the chemicals. And I died. And I'm not using the term in some metaphorical sense. I literally died. I stopped breathing, turned cold, and died. And there, in the valley of the shadow of death. Lady Dilirium, and Lord Chaos. My Gods. My parents. They saved me from death, and from the nothing of my life. And all they asked in return was that I be their man. They had chosen me, you see. To be their agent on Earth. And what else could I say but yes? The next thing I knew, I awoke on the shore, and I had been transformed, both mentally, and physically. And nothing was ever the same after that."

The Joker jumps up onto the desk, with a style like Gene Kelly and a pure, evil hatred in his eyes like Ted Bundy.

"I did their good work for years. My holy mission was only ever thwarted by my opposite number. The Batman. But I loved our little dance so much, that I could hardly stay mad at him. In fact, I think I grew to love him. So much, that I lost sight of my mission. It became about him. And when I killed him, I lost my faith. I shut down. And I stayed that way for many, many years. But my faith is rekindled. And now, ooohhh, now I shall fulfill the mission. Cities will burn. People will die by the millions! And blood, oh the blood, will flow like wine!"

He falls back and flopps down in the chair.

"Speaking of drinks, you got any scotch 'round here?"

James points to his liquor cabinet, keeping his eyes glued on The Joker. After he fixes himself a drink, he sits back down and looks at James.

"You want one?"

"...please don't kill me."

"Why would I do that? You're such good company! Say, where's Superman at? You'd think he'd have come to save the day by now."

"He's missing. He's been missing for almost twenty years."

"What? Well that's, that's...wonderful. What's become of this world, I ask?Can I borrow your newspaper?"

James remains silent, frozen in his seat.

"Oh, come on!"

He grabs the paper from him.

"You run the damn thing! Now, let's see what's in the news..."

He sits there, reading the newspaper. James is wondering why the hell no one's noticed the homicidal clown in his office, and is noting that, should he survive to tommorrow, he's firing the security guard.

The Jokser shakes his head while he reads.

"Tsk. Look at all of this. It's so dull. The world's become completely and utterly boring in my absence, hasn't it? In my day, we..."

A headline catches his eye.

"The Bat...oh, this is good."

He slams the paper down on the table and stands up.

"This is very good!"

He sticks out his hand to shake James'.

"Jimmy, it's been a pleasure."

"...where are you going?"

"Home. The world is being smothered by boredome. Slowly dying of banality. Way I see it, all we need to shake the masses out of apathy is some good old fasioned supervillainy. Besides, I need to go see an old friend."

And with that, The Joker fades away, like smoke being blown in the wind. James looks at the hald empty glass of scotch in front of him, wondering if he's gone mad.

He then calls the police.

 

[The Human Torch]

Red Arrow
​

Michael kicked three guys on his left and four guys on his right. He grabbed the one who was in front of him and threw him aside. he kicked the two men still in the ambulance to the back of it as they lifted their guns.

Michael reached out and pulled the unconcious bodies of the two men out of the ambulance. he closed the back doors and ran round to the driver's seat. he hit the accellerator and raced down out of the junkyard.

The men had a arc around the exit of the junkyard, guns at the ready. Michael looked at the passenger's seat and spotted and medical kit under the seat. He reached down and grabbed it and placed it on the accellerator.

Michael leapt out the window of the ambulance and swung onto the roof of it. He jumped and boosted himself off the ambulance as the men began to shoot. the car was still heading to the car in front of it. He fired a regular arrow at the gas tank and the oil began to pour out leave a trail. He then fired an explosive arrow at te oil and it blew up along with all the cars in the arc.

Michael landed on the wreckage of the ambulance with a thud. He lept off the wreckage onto the ground and began to walk. From above a figure watched him. But Michael didn't see. Michael also didn't see the figure fire out a blast of light until the last moment. The figure floated down on what appeared to be a disc of light and landed on the ground. Dr Light stood over Michael ready to blast again.
"So you hired the assassains?" asked Michael.
"Of course. To be my revenge!" yelled Dr Light.
"I thought those assassains seemed to be a bit tacky but now I know! You hired them! That would make anyone tacky," laughed Michael.
"You shall die!" screamed Dr Light as he blasted another bolt of light.​

 

[Karem-Knight]

Metroplis USA:

Clark had been back for 3 days now, He has said good-bye to his mother and headed straight towards Metropolis, He always loved the city but he loved when he could fly there.

But things were different in Metropolis it was protected by thousands of security robots, If Clark even thought about flying Luthor would send armies to hunt him down.

But he didn’t mind, It was nice to blend in with humans again, he was wearing a white shirt and jeans with a pair of glasses, Oh yes Clark Kent was back.

He looked out the window to see bad news everywhere,

“Hey what happened here, I thought this was supposed to be the safest city on earth?”


A young college student said, Obviously going to Metropolis University.

“Yeah didn’t you hear? The Joker shook the centre of the city up pretty well. “

“Wow.”

Joker!

It hit Clark like a punch in the face.

Batman’s back, So obviously those two will duke it out. Why would he come back to Metropolis?

“Stopping at East End Metropolis, Please collect all your belonging quickly. Thank you.”

Clark stood up and left the bus, Even though the city was recovering he never felt home in along time.

The sky was cloudless.

The people were gentle and the lights of the city were brighter then ever.

“Home!”

Clark walked into the Sullivan Hotel with his luage in his hands and went to the reception.

“Hello, I made a reservation?”


“Ok sure what was your name?”


“K-Clark, Clark Kent.”

The recipients it in the computer.

“Ok sir your room is number 1938, If you wanna make your self at home.”

“Thanks.”

“Wait, Did you say your name was, Clark Kent?”


“Yeah.”

The guy smiled,

“Weren’t you and err, Lois something….

“Lane?”

“Yeah, Didn’t you help put Lex Luthor behind bars a few times before he became President?”

Clark smiled.

“Guilty, Of course not as guilty as him.”

Clark continued to the elevator.


He got in and was soon at his room, Elevators now were 3 times as faster as they were 20 years ago.

Clark then opened the room’s door and lay down on the bed.

[FONT=&quot][/FONT] He soon unpacked his bag, his suit for the anniversary only a few days away, And something that caught him by surprise again.

The old costume, he grabbed it and looked at it.

He put it aside and lay his head on the pillow.

He closed his eyes and got some much needed sleep, And time to think.

 

[Catman_prb]

Tim Drake​

Tim Drake sprinted down the alleyway. His partner lay bleeding at the entrance, a hand on her bloody leg. She was surrounded by injured and knee-capped thugs. Tim went after the leader of this minor gang. Michael Thorne, taking after his father and joining the family buisness. A trashcan was thrown in his path and he jumped it easily. The jump brought back a flash of memory.
He was soaring over the buildings like an eagle, a king among men. Next to him was a tall man in a black cape and a cowel and on his left a girl in similar garb, a strapping young man next to her with a long black ponytail. They were his friends. They were his family...
Tim rounded the corner and saw Thorne ascending a ladder to a fire escape. He was climbing a block of flats. Tim knew that his men had a hostage up there. He raised his gun, but did not fire.
"FREEZE, GPD!" he screamed. Thorne ran on. Tim Drake was the best detective in the Gotham Police Department and everyone knew it. Everyone also knew he'd turned down promotion three times. He preffered it on the streets. It almost made him feel as live as...
TIm brought a long metal stick down on the head of melting figure. The stick made a dent right throught the creatures head. It lurched at him and groaned. He brought some pellets out of his belt.
"Give it up Clayface. Your beat,"he shouted and threw the pellets at the mosntrosity. They exploded and froze.
Almost as alive...But that was a long time ago...Everyone also knew that TIm Drake never killed. He leapt up the fire escape and followed Thorne. Thorne reached the top of the block of flats and ran across the roof. Tim pulled himself up after him. He fired the gun in the air. Thorne was standing behind two guards, one of which was holding a frightened teenage girl. He had a gun to her head. She had long golden hair. Tim froze. She looked so much like Cassy. He remembered...
"I told you not to come here gain Cass," Tim said coldly as he opened the front door. Cassy looked up at him with tear-filled eyes. She wore a simple black top with a black skirt.
"Why wont you help me Tim? The world needs heroes right now" she said hoarsley.
"No. Times have changed. Laws have changed. The worlds changed. Ive changed. Robin is dead. Darkseid killed him at the battle of Wake Island with so many friends. The Riddler killed him along with Dick Grayson. The Joker killed him with Bruce Wayne. Only Tim Drake lives here"he whispered. Cassy leaned in close to him.
"Your not half the man Connor Kent was." she said bluntly. Her eyes were full of tears.
"Do notever mention that name in this house. Go now. GO!" Tim shouted. She went.
"Let the girl go Thorne," Tim said coolly. Thorne smiled easily and stepped forwards grabbing the girl and bringing a knife to her neck.
"Or what Detective? You kill me, my family finds your son,"
"You leave Jason out of this," Tim growled. He stepped forwards and the knife tightened around the girls neck.
"Or maybe little Johhny. Or what about Momma Drake? Oh wait i remember. She left yo-" Michael Thorne didnt finish the sentence. Tim shot him twice in the shoulder. Thorne dropped the knife. Tim span on the spot and shot both thugs, one cap per knee. Thorne was struggling to his feet, the knife in the other hand. He lunged and Tim caught him with a roundhouse kick to the head. Thorne fell backward onto the floor.
Tim leapt over Two-Faces thugs shouting...
Tim was standing so close to Cassy after Connors death...
Tim was standing by a grave, in the rain, with Babs and Bruce, laying a single rose...
Tim was hammering on the door of the Manor, screaming...
Tim was at another funeral...
Tim was standing at the altar looking into Roses' eye...
Tim was at another funeral...
Robin was standing back to back with Batman as the police arrested Scarface...
Tim looked up and saw two caped figures swinging off a building in the distance...he smiled.​

 

[Kaboom]

It wasn't much.

But it was a start.

Christopher Kent, cub reporter to the Metropolis Morning News.

It was no Daily Planet, but it was a daily. That was enough. I don't even know if the editor-in-chief liked my work or just my name.

Kent.

It had won pullitzers. That was enough.

"Here's your station, youre on gossip."

"GOSSIP?!?!?!"

"You got a problem with that, kid?"

"No sir," I said sounding defeated.

"Good," he said turning away. I wonder if this was how my dad started out. Before he got mom killed and deserted us all.

"Don't look so defeated," a soft female voice said.

"Hi," I said awestruck. She was gorgeous. "Christopher Kent."

"Okay, CK," she replied shaking my hand. "The name's Dinah...Dinah Queen."

I smiled. It quickly faded. On her finger was ring.

 

[Kaboom]

"Nice to meet you."

I could hear something. SOmething strange. Something I wasn't quite used to. It was the sound a of a cry.

A cry for help.

 

[Catman_prb]

Tim Drake​

Tim stepped out of his run-down car with a slight spring in his step. He'd taken down Thornes gang and no-one had been too badly hurt. His partner Francesca Walsh, only recieved a flesh wound, and was walking within the hour, albeit on a cane. He saw her at the front gate. He'd seen a lot of stuff in his time, but Francesca Walsh, long black hair flowing down her back, a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye was the kind of thing that was needed to wake a guy up in the morning.
"Mornin' Fran, your a sight for sore eyes. Hows the leg holding up?" Tim asked casually. She hobbled over to him and smiled.
"It's alright Timmy. Only clipped the front of my leg. Don't know why it was bleeding so much," she said laughing.
"Thats good. Im sorry i didnt try and help, but i was after Thorne. Feel damned guilty about it. You sure your up for work today?" Tim said with a frown. She looked up at him and chuckled.
"Do you even realise how patronising you are sometimes?" she asked.
"Yes" he said "Yes i do. Anyway lets go see what the Cheifs got for us this month," he said walking up the steps to the police station. He slowed down a bit to let Fran catch up. They strolled up the corridor to Comissioner Gordons office, and got a few rounds of applause and claps on the back. Tim opened the door for Fran. Gordon looked up from his desk.
"Heyah guys. Good work last night. Thorne'll go away for a very long time. Hows the leg Fran?" he asked. Fran smiled.
"Its fine cheif," she said with a grin. Gordon nodded.
"Good cos' i've got a new problem, which needs the best. Which means you two," he said standing and throwing a brown file at Tim. Tim caught it and looked at the attached photo.
"It's a murder cheif. And a nasty one. Any idea what did this? A knife? No entry wound for a bullet," Tim said studying the picture. It was mostly red. Gordon gave him a look which chilled Tim's blood.
"The coroner says it was done by fangs and claws. The kind made by bats," Gordon said quietly.
"What? That's insane!" Tim shouted. Gordon gave him a sympathetic look.
"Theres something that could have done this kid. It was a big case. Probably a bit before your time," he said and threw a second file on the desk. It had the words:
-Dr. Kirk Langström
-"Man-bat"
-Arkham inmate 126570
-DECEASED​

 

[Kaboom]

It wasn't much.

But it was a start.

Christopher Kent, cub reporter to the Metropolis Morning News.

It was no Daily Planet, but it was a daily. That was enough. I don't even know if the editor-in-chief liked my work or just my name.

Kent.

It had won pullitzers. That was enough.

"Here's your station, youre on gossip."

"GOSSIP?!?!?!"

"You got a problem with that, kid?"

"No sir," I said sounding defeated.

"Good," he said turning away. I wonder if this was how my dad started out. Before he got mom killed and deserted us all.

"Don't look so defeated," a soft female voice said.

"Hi," I said awestruck. She was gorgeous. "Christopher Kent."

"Okay, CK," she replied shaking my hand. "The name's Dinah...Dinah Queen."

I smiled. It quickly faded. On her finger was ring.

"Nice to meet you."

I could hear something. SOmething strange. Something I wasn't quite used to. It was the sound a of a cry.

A cry for help.

"Err...excuse me Miss Queen," I said as I fumbled over my words.
"Bye," she cooed. Quickly I was out of my seat.

"Where you going," our Editor called.
"Gossip never sleeps, chief!"

Quickly I was into a supply closet. Grandma had given me one of dad's old costumes. I didn't feel right wearing it. What it stood for. What he supposedly stood for. I was not going to wear that suit to honor him. I would be something new. Somethign better.

I didn't care if it was illegal.

:shirt rip:

 

[Catman_prb]

Tim Drake​

Tim stepped out of his run-down car with a slight spring in his step. He'd taken down Thornes gang and no-one had been too badly hurt. His partner Francesca Walsh, only recieved a flesh wound, and was walking within the hour, albeit on a cane. He saw her at the front gate. He'd seen a lot of stuff in his time, but Francesca Walsh, long black hair flowing down her back, a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye was the kind of thing that was needed to wake a guy up in the morning.
"Mornin' Fran, your a sight for sore eyes. Hows the leg holding up?" Tim asked casually. She hobbled over to him and smiled.
"It's alright Timmy. Only clipped the front of my leg. Don't know why it was bleeding so much," she said laughing.
"Thats good. Im sorry i didnt try and help, but i was after Thorne. Feel damned guilty about it. You sure your up for work today?" Tim said with a frown. She looked up at him and chuckled.
"Do you even realise how patronising you are sometimes?" she asked.
"Yes" he said "Yes i do. Anyway lets go see what the Cheifs got for us this month," he said walking up the steps to the police station. He slowed down a bit to let Fran catch up. They strolled up the corridor to Comissioner Gordons office, and got a few rounds of applause and claps on the back. Tim opened the door for Fran. Gordon looked up from his desk.
"Heyah guys. Good work last night. Thorne'll go away for a very long time. Hows the leg Fran?" he asked. Fran smiled.
"Its fine cheif," she said with a grin. Gordon nodded.
"Good cos' i've got a new problem, which needs the best. Which means you two," he said standing and throwing a brown file at Tim. Tim caught it and looked at the attached photo.
"It's a murder cheif. And a nasty one. Any idea what did this? A knife? No entry wound for a bullet," Tim said studying the picture. It was mostly red. Gordon gave him a look which chilled Tim's blood.
"The coroner says it was done by fangs and claws. The kind made by bats,"Gordon said quietly.
"What? That's insane!" Tim shouted. Gordon gave him a sympathetic look.
"Theres something that could have done this kid. It was a big case. Probably a bit before your time," he said and threw a second file on the desk. It had the words:
-Dr. Kirk Langström
-"Man-bat"
-Arkham inmate 126570

-DECEASED​

"Langström is dead and buried. Theres a tombstone with his name on it in Gotham Cemtery. All the serum that Langström made was taken by the government for investigation. As far as i've heard President Luthor hasn't made any lasting progress with it," Tim stated looking at Gordon.Gordon laughed.
"Your too trusting kid. Just cos Langström is dead, it doesnt mean that he didn't pass his legacy onto the next generation. You'd be suprised how many of these masked nutcases give the mantle over to psycho junior. Have you heard all these reports about a new Batman and Robin? Bet you they're the originals kids," Gordon said smiling. Bullock had given Tim an idea. He needed to see some video footage of the new Dynamic Duo...
"So cheif, wheres Langström's kid holed up?" Fran asked. Gordon turned to look at her.
"16 Martha Road. Her names Beatrice. She followed in daddy's line of work. A biologist at Gotham Medical Research Centre. We've been asked to keep a close eye on her. I've decided it would be prudent to bring her in," Gordon said in a deep monotone.
"We'll be right on it, Cheif," Tim said.
"Oh and Tim...try not to shoot anyone," Gordon said grinning. Tim smiled.
"Will do cheif," He chuckled and left the room.

 

[Johnny Blaze]

MEMORIES ~ Part 3

The Scarlet Speedster stands before the statue of his smiling father, his memories going back further still to the days after the heroic sacrifice of Wally West and Jay Garrick.

The war against Darkseid ended a week after that day, Dad. A lot of heroes died in the fighting, and we held a memorial service in Metropolis for you all.

For some reason though it didn't really sink in that you were really gone. I kept waiting for you to pop in. We'd all smile, have a laugh, and all would be well again.
But that didn't happen.

There was not going to be a dawn. You wouldn't be coming back.

Mom and Iris took your death pretty hard. Mom didn't talk to anyone for weeks after the war ended. It took all of us, Iris, Bart, and myself to snap her back to reality.
I think Iris partly blamed me for your death too. I can't say I blame her either. I had the shot to stop you, but I froze.

Barry pauses and wipes away the tears, as he searched for the right words before continuing.

I think it was the day of your memorial service that it finally hit me that you weren't coming back, he spoke in his mind as his eyes once again met those of the statues.

The whole city came out to pay their respects for you and Jay. Even other heroes like Wonder Woman and one of those Green Lanterns came and said a few words. Hell, I even noticed a few of the Rogues there in disguise that came to pay their respects to you.

Seeing them unveil this statue in your honor was the kicker. I just felt it all well up inside of me, all the anguish, the anger...like a volcano waiting to explode.

So I did what we do best. I ran.

I ran to the most secluded spot I could think of, an old abandoned cabin in the Canadian Rockies that Iris and I found one day when we were younger and exploring the world with our speed.

I just sat there for hours on the steps, crying my head off. After a while, Iris found me. We talked for a while about what happened, and I think we both came to a certain acceptance of it all.

Anyway, we went home and slowly began putting together the pieces of our lives. Despite the wars end, Keystone was still in bad shape, and still needed looking after. So, like you did for Barry Allen, Bart took over the mantle of the Flash, and Iris and I joined him as the Tornado Twins.

Over the next five years, we cleaned up Keystone and helped bring it back to a semblance of what it was like before the invasion. But, as I've come to discover, just when things are starting to look up, life has a way of kicking your legs out from under you.

It was fifteen years ago, on my first twenty-second birthday that we got that kick in the form of your old buddy Zoom...

 

[Kaboom]

I dropped down out of the sky, my red cape billowing about my blue suit. The assailant turned his attention to me and away from the girl he had been assaulting.

"Stop!" I commanded.

"Who are you," he said he fired his gun at me. The bullets clanged off my chest. It was good to be Kryptonian.

"The name is Supernova," I said. "And you'd be wise to put..."

I couldn't finish my sentence before an invisible wave of energy came surging toward the robber knocking him down. While I couldn't see the enegry, I could hear it. It was deafening and I turned to see where it had come from.

"Hiya Tights," a woman in a form fitting green leotard and green leather jacket said. Her face was similiarly masked in green.

"Who are you?"

"Green Canary." Sirens started blaring in the distance and I turned to see how close they were.

"You know we're breaking the law right?" I asked as I turned back to face her.

But she was already gone.

 

[Catman_prb]

"Langström is dead and buried. Theres a tombstone with his name on it in Gotham Cemtery. All the serum that Langström made was taken by the government for investigation. As far as i've heard President Luthor hasn't made any lasting progress with it," Tim stated looking at Gordon. Gordon laughed.
"Your too trusting kid. Just cos Langström is dead, it doesnt mean that he didn't pass his legacy onto the next generation. You'd be suprised how many of these masked nutcases give the mantle over to psycho junior. Have you heard all these reports about a new Batman and Robin? Bet you they're the originals kids," Bullock said smiling. Bullock had given Tim an idea. He needed to see some video footage of the new Dynamic Duo...
"So cheif, wheres Langström's kid holed up?" Fran asked. Gordon turned to look at her.
"16 Martha Road. Her names Beatrice. She followed in daddy's line of work. A biologist at Gotham Medical Research Centre. We've been asked to keep a close eye on her. I've decided it would be prudent to bring her in," Gordon said in a deep monotone.
"We'll be right on it, Cheif," Tim said.
"Oh and Tim...try not to shoot anyone," Gordon said grinning. Tim smiled.
"Will do cheif," He chuckled and left the room.

Tim pulled up outside a block of flats on Martha Road. The flats looked a little run-down, it reminded him of the place his dad had lived in. He helped Fran out the car and sprinted up to number 16.
"Miss Langström open up," Tim said knocking on the door. He heard Fran coming up the stairs behind him, as the door opened slightly and a young blond woman appeared at it.
"Gotham PD ma'am," Tim said flashing his badge. The young woman opened up and let them in. He looked around. The apartment was a dump. The TV was smashed, and the floor was covered in torn magazines. THe back of the sofa was ripped.
"Make yourselves at home," she said laughing. Fran smiled.
"We'd like to ask you a few questions about your fathers research," she said softly. Beatrice sighed.
"The government conviscated all the serum after my father died. If you want information about it, i suggest you ask them,"
"Miss Langdon, theres been a murder. The marks on the victim correspond with those of a gigantic bat," Tim explained quickly " Previously we would have assumed it was your father, but as he died, we wondered if you've been carying on his experiments,"
"How dare you? You come into my home and accuse me of murdering someone?" she shouted standing up " Get out!" Tim smiled.
"You see i would be inclined to believe you, but the way the back of this sofa has been ripped up, is almost exactly like the claw marks on the body," He said quietly. Beatrice looked shocked. "Would you like to hear my theory? You see i used to be quite interested in biology as well. I think your fathers miracle drug, accidently augmented his DNA, making it more batlike. The serum activated the augmented parts of his DNA, turning him into the man-bat. I think that he passed these genes, quite unknowingly, onto you. However due to the governments refinements to the drug, certain forms of it can be found anywhere, even in drinking water. The constant supply of serum means that you can turn into the man-bat just like your father. Albeit slightly more erraticley, and beyond your own control,"
Fran looked at him in amazment and Beatrice seemed to be stunned.
"Miss Langström, we can help you. You can be set right, Doctors can sace you from what your becoming," Fran said gently. Beatrice still didnt move. Tim frowned.
"Miss Langström? Beatrice?" He asked. Beatrice let out a violent shudder.
"Aw hell no," said Fran standing up and drawing her gun. Beatrice dropped out of her seat and fell on all fours on the floor, shaking. She screamed, and brown fur seemed to grow on her skin. Her eyes narrowed and turned yellow as her ears elongated. Muscles rippled and her shirt and jeans ripped. Wings grew rapidly. Tim and Fran stepped back.
"Fran, get the hell out of here. Now!" Tim said aiming the gun at Langströms' leg.
"I won't leave you like this!" Fran shouted. Tim spun around and looked at her.
"I don't care! MOVE!" he bellowed and shoved her out the front door. He faced Beatrice as she staggered upwards. He'd always wondered why Bruce never called anyone by the name given to them by the media if he could help it. Now he knew. Tim could still see Beatrice Langström inside the Man-Bat struggling to get out. It looked like she was failing. The creature made the bat equivalent of a growl.
"Come on then..." he muttered lowering the gun and smiling. This was more like it.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Cerdian finds Owen walking down the hall, with a smile upon his face. It's been a while since he's seen his best friend like this, so of course he feels compelled to figure out the why behind it.

"I haven't seen you smile that big ever since the time you fooled me into eating what I surely thought was pudding...what the hell do you have up your sleeve this time?"

Cerdian looks around frantically, as if paranoid, but then turns back to Owen and smirks. Owen responds sarcastically.

"Ha ha."

"No seriously, what's up?"

"Me and my dad...we...talked. For once I actually got him to sit down and talk. He didn't walk away, and I didn't have to beg him too much not to."

"Great...so what did you talk about?"

"My mom."

The two continue to walk down the hallway, with Owen leading where they are going, and after a few seconds of silence after they turn a corner, Cerdian speaks up again.

"So what did he say?"

"Everything I wanted to hear and more."

"And what did you say?"

Owen stops. He dips his head a bit, and then looks up at Cerdian slowly.

"...Probably not enough. But I'll tell him the truth soon. Just trying to build it all up is all."

"You tell your father that you went swooping into the Archives...and you're in big trouble, man. Heck, I'll be in trouble. I'm the one who made sure the coast was clear the entire time you were in there. And all you told me afterwards was that you saw some picture...wow. I mean--"

"Stop right there. Don't you talk about it like it's just some...some..."

"Picture."

"Stop!"

Owen pushes Cerdian against the wall, causing it to slightly crack, and he begins to grow angry. But he suddenly stops when he sees the look on Cerdian's face. Owen lets go of him, and takes a deep breath.

"...Sorry about that man...I don't know what came over me."

There's a brief bump of silence in the air, but Cerdian breaks it as he puts his arm on Owen's shoulder, and begins to speak.

"Think nothing of it, man. I'm sorry too. Look...just I've already had to have dealt my dad getting on my case when I'm in trouble. You think I want the King and his entire royal army on my butt too? Cause that's what's going to happen, you know. Word will get around my unit, and I can say 'bye bye' to my promotion to unit leader that I've been hearing about."

"Unit leader...like Atlantis needs an active army."

"Hey man, you know as much as I do that there was an outer dome built for a damn good reason. What do you think I, and every other Atlantean that enlists, is trying to do? Keep the kingdom safe."

"Keep telling yourself that, Unit Leader."

Cerdian crosses his arms in annoyance and rolls his eyes as Owen walks away.

"Hey! Where you going?"

Owen continues to walk away, and makes his exit through one of the side doors of the palace and into the heart of the city. He looks up, seeing through the original, old and ancient, dome, and looks past it. As he sees the magical waters that make up the outer dome, he looks in disgust and starts to sprint towards the inner dome's gates.
​

 

[Keyser Soze]

Edward Nigma followed the sound of shattering glass, Wilson close behind. Finally, panting and gripping his throbbing leg, Nigma found himself standing in front of a police car, with two thugs lying on top of the windscreen.

"What happened here, officers?"

The cops looked as scared as the crooks. One of them couldn't summon words, but one of them stammered out a reply.

"B-Batman," he exclaimed, "It was The Batman!"

Nigma turned away from the scene, placing his hands on his hips. The Batman had been here, less than a minute ago.

"I'm getting closer..."

Edward Nigma blasted into the offices of Riddler Investigations, his pulse racing.

"So close! I could almost smell him!"

Talking to himself was an old habit from his days of supervillainy he hadn't quite been able to shake.

"Wait...I can smell somebody."

The alcohol filled his nostrils, almost making him gag. He heard the sound of snoring, confirming his suspicions.

"Bullock!"

"Wha..."

Bullock's chair swiveled round, exposing to Nigma an obese, white-haired, drunken slob, now well into his 60s. Harvey Bullock. He'd done his 30 for the police, and taken retirement. And now he was working for Nigma's P.I. firm to earn enough money to piss away on cheap liquor. And Bullock let Nigma know all about his distaste for his current employment, every chance he got.

"Screw you....Riddler! Thinkin'...hick...you run the joint! I put you behind bars...back...back in the day! I was a somebody! You're a...bum. A nobody! I'm Detective Bullock!"

"You're not a Detective anymore, Harvey," Nigma said with a cold smirk, "I'm the man that keeps a roof over your head. For now."

The man was a raging alcoholic, and almost unbearable to be around. But Nigma didn't fire him. Part of it was pity, seeing a man who was so respected fall so low. He'd never really recovered from Jim Gordon's death. But the other part of it, the main part of it, was that despite his clear and obvious failings as a functional human being, Bullock was part of that dying breed. He was natural police. And that made him an invaluable private eye.

"Go home, Bullock. If you want, I can call a cab for..."

"Go...screw yerself! I ain't no...cripple like you! I can....walk home!"

Nigma wasn't so sure. He watched Bullock struggle out of his chair with amused disdain, and waited for the retired detective to stagger out of the offices, and towards the elavator down to the main entrance hall, before limping into his own office.

He sat down on the chair, and with a pained grimace, put his legs up on the desk. Twirling his cane absently in his hand, a smile spread across his lips.

"Batman..."

After all these years, the dance had begun once more. The dynamics had changed, but his blood was already burning with that old thrill of the battle. Nigma switched on his computer, and began to write his report.

 

[trustyside-kick]

Owen sprints as if that's all he knows how to do; a fast young guy he is. When he makes it to the entrance of the inner gates, he approaches the guards.

"My prince, what seems to be the rush?"

"Let me pass through, please. I feel a bit faint. I...I feel a good swim would do me good."

"A bit dehydrated, are you? Take my water pouch, my prince. You will feel better."

Owen swipes the guard's guesture, knocking the pouch to the ground. One of the guards bends down to pick it up, and as he gets up, Owen's eyes are locked on his movements; giving a cold stare.

"I think a good swim would be better, now if you'd please."

Immediately the guards's javelins lock in place, creating an "x" to block Owen's pathway. They step forward in unison, further pushing back the prince.

"Your father decreed we guard these gates. You know when you are allowed to take a joyous swim outside the inner gates. Now, I'd recommend standing down, my prince. And just so you know, I shall not report your misconduct with your father."

"I know when I'm allowed to swim? I'm your future King and by that right, I demand you to stand down, guards."

Owen tries to move forth, pushing against the guards' javelins, but they keep their footing. Owen cries out in anger, trying to push harder, but the guards still do not move. As they push him back, now they both bring out their shields from their sides, and change their footing into a battle stance.

"You'd dare attack me? You know the consequences in harming the heir."

"You're father makes the laws, prince. I'm sure he'd understand. No swimming outside the gates at this time. You should know better."

"I...I should know better? It's as you said it, oh faithful guards. I am indeed my father's son."

The guards look at each other, confused for a second, and Owen uses this small distraction to spring out at them, jumping onto one of the guard's large shields, and flipping over them as the guard falls back. As he sprints to the gates, he tries to find the override code to open them; but he doesn't know it.

"Get word to the King! Now!"

One of the guards starts heading to the royal palace, as his higher-ranked officer commanded. The one who remains gets up, slowly picking up his javelin and shield as he looks over at Owen.

"You'll never figure out the code, young Prince. Now, just come with me and--"

Out of anger, such strength seems to fill Owen's fists, as he punches through the control panel in anger, breaking it. As a result, the gates start to open and the guard starts to run towards Owen.

"My Prince!!!!"

Just as the gate finally opens, Owen tries enter the chamber between the city and the water outside of the inner dome, but guard grabs him by the shoulder, pulling him back.

"I cannot let you do that, Owen. My orders are to--ARRRGGGHH!!"

Using the whiplash effect of the guard's pull, Owen swings a punch at the guard in the helmet. Instantly, the guard is down. Owen looks down at his hands, for he made quite a large dent in his helmet, completely shocked. And before that, he was able to tear through the control panel like nothing almost. He tries to shrug it off, and exits into the sea.

 

[Batman]

The Dark Knight silently watched the now muted scene of the crime, as the police officers scurried out of their squad cars in a panic, generated by the brutality of the way the thugs had been thrown into their windshield. The look that the officers gave eachother, shouting out numerous profanities in trying to comprehend what had just transpired, gave Batman enough assurance that his mission was being carried out with success... the people of Gotham were starting to get the message that he had returned.

Ignoring Robin's boasting of their triumph, behind him, Batman turned his attention to an elderly man of which approached the scene minutes later. He wore a dark green jacket, limping upon a shrewd cane. But that wasn't what caught his attention the most. It was the bowler hat of which the man wore atop his head. Something about it seemed... familiar. As if he had seen it before in his life. Though in truth, he knew he'd probably never remember it.

John had spent years upon years studying up on the work of the former Batman, dedicating his time to mimicking every aspect of the practices that Bruce Wayne had put into sending Gotham's criminals into a panic. And that included looking up profiles of both Batman's known allies and enemies. So if this man was one of the two, he'd probably never remember it. Deciding to let it go, Batman draped himself further into the shadows, meeting Robin as they began to walk across the rooftop ledge, on the trek back to the Clocktower. Dawn was approaching, and the two had spent a majority of the night in preparation for Robin's first outing of vigilantism... to which, John admitted, he passed exceptionally.

Then came the sound. The noise of which pierced the silence of the Gotham night.

Batman turned, hearing the faint noise in the distance, as Robin did aswell. Something was off about where it was coming from. While it was obviously a helicopter in motion, the volume of it's noise wasn't particularly comforting. At first, Batman dismissed it as if it were a simple patrolman, scouring the streets for more criminality. But as the seconds passed, he began to hesitantly doubt that notion. It wasn't coming for the criminals. It was coming for...

"I have a funny feeling that the whirly bird I hear isn't for those thugs we beat up.", Robin worriedly exclaimed, provoking Batman to scan the skies for the origin of the sound.

"I think you might be right,", Batman responded, turning over to the Boy Wonder as the noise grew deafeningly louder. "We need to move! Now!"

But it wasn't two steps forward, before the two were suddenly caught off guard by a blinding light shined onto them. The Dynamic Duo flinched, as the now visible helicopter loitered over them, it's spotlight directly outlining their form and ruining any possible chance for the two to escape through the darkness.

"BATMAN AND ROBIN! THIS IS THE POLICE! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP! YOU'RE IN VIOLATION OF THE VIGILANTISM ACT, AND YOU'RE BOTH UNDER ARREST!"

Batman turned, sharply, looking over at the next array of rooftops. He doubted they could lose the copter with ease... but he also doubted that it was impossible. Throwing out his cape, behind him, exposing his body armor and allowing for free movement, Batman grabbed Robin by the shoulder with haste, threw him ahead, and began to run.

Like hell, we are...

"ROBIN! FOLLOW MY LEAD!", Batman exclaimed in an authoritive yell, before leaping over the Boy Wonder and spreading his cape, diving off of the building and onto the rooftops ahead.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Luthor stares out the windows of the Oval Office when his Chief of Staff Howard Keller enters and says, "Mr. President it's time to start making your way over to the memorial. The others are already there waiting for you."

Luthor nods and says, "Thank you Howard see to it that the Limo takes the route that will take us by the Lincoln Memorial. I often think of myself as a modern day Lincoln. After all I helped erradicate the scourge of those costumed fools."

Keller says, "Yes sir Mr. President."

He leaves and Amanda Waller calls him on his cell. He answers, "Yes?"

She replies, "Unconfirmed reports of teh new Batman & Robin being cornered by Gotham's Finest."

Luthor replies, "E-T-A for the Black-ops units."

She says, "20 minutes"

Luthor says, "Keep me advised."

He hangs up the phone and begins to hobble on his cane.

Those Gotham fools don't stand a chance and the black-ops units will be there after it is long over. Looks as though the war is starting again.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

The Dark Knight silently watched the now muted scene of the crime, as the police officers scurried out of their squad cars in a panic, generated by the brutality of the way the thugs had been thrown into their windshield. The look that the officers gave eachother, shouting out numerous profanities in trying to comprehend what had just transpired, gave Batman enough assurance that his mission was being carried out with success... the people of Gotham were starting to get the message that he had returned.

Ignoring Robin's boasting of their triumph, behind him, Batman turned his attention to an elderly man of which approached the scene minutes later. He wore a dark green jacket, limping upon a shrewd cane. But that wasn't what caught his attention the most. It was the bowler hat of which the man wore atop his head. Something about it seemed... familiar. As if he had seen it before in his life. Though in truth, he knew he'd probably never remember it.

John had spent years upon years studying up on the work of the former Batman, dedicating his time to mimicking every aspect of the practices that Bruce Wayne had put into sending Gotham's criminals into a panic. And that included looking up profiles of both Batman's known allies and enemies. So if this man was one of the two, he'd probably never remember it. Deciding to let it go, Batman draped himself further into the shadows, meeting Robin as they began to walk across the rooftop ledge, on the trek back to the Clocktower. Dawn was approaching, and the two had spent a majority of the night in preparation for Robin's first outing of vigilantism... to which, John admitted, he passed exceptionally.

Then came the sound. The noise of which pierced the silence of the Gotham night.

Batman turned, hearing the faint noise in the distance, as Robin did aswell. Something was off about where it was coming from. While it was obviously a helicopter in motion, the volume of it's noise wasn't particularly comforting. At first, Batman dismissed it as if it were a simple patrolman, scouring the streets for more criminality. But as the seconds passed, he began to hesitantly doubt that notion. It wasn't coming for the criminals. It was coming for...

"I have a funny feeling that the whirly bird I hear isn't for those thugs we beat up.", Robin worriedly exclaimed, provoking Batman to scan the skies for the origin of the sound.

"I think you might be right,", Batman responded, turning over to the Boy Wonder as the noise grew deafeningly louder. "We need to move! Now!"

But it wasn't two steps forward, before the two were suddenly caught off guard by a blinding light shined onto them. The Dynamic Duo flinched, as the now visible helicopter loitered over them, it's spotlight directly outlining their form and ruining any possible chance for the two to escape through the darkness.

"BATMAN AND ROBIN! THIS IS THE POLICE! STAY RIGHT WHERE YOU ARE AND PUT YOUR HANDS UP! YOU'RE IN VIOLATION OF THE VIGILANTISM ACT, AND YOU'RE BOTH UNDER ARREST!"

Batman turned, sharply, looking over at the next array of rooftops. He doubted they could lose the copter with ease... but he also doubted that it was impossible. Throwing out his cape, behind him, exposing his body armor and allowing for free movement, Batman grabbed Robin by the shoulder with haste, threw him ahead, and began to run.

Like hell, we are...

"ROBIN! FOLLOW MY LEAD!", Batman exclaimed in an authoritive yell, before leaping over the Boy Wonder and spreading his cape, diving off of the building and onto the rooftops ahead.

Hell of a first night.

That's all I can think about as I follow close behind John. The chopper flys low as I follow John off a rooftop, the both of us hang onto a fire escape and crash through a window into an empty room.

"Damn, damn, damn, and once more for good measure, DAMN!"

I can hear the helicopter outside as John checks the area to make sure everything is safe.

"What the hell do we do now?"

Just as the words are leaving my mouth, my devilish little brain goes to work, a plan forming.

"By Jove, I think I've got it."

I unseath the sword, stepping out the broken window and onto the fire escape.

"Jason, No!"

I'm climbing up the fire escape as he grabs at me. Too late to get me. In the blink of an eye, I'm on the rooftop with the helicopter's spotlight on me.

"Robin, throw down your weapons."

I crouch into a defensive stance, my sword at the ready.

"Police, come and take them."

My quip sends them over the edge, the helicopter's gunner lets a hail of bullets fly. Another advantage to the Wilson line, I can see the bullets ripping through the air.

John is on the rooftop by the time he sees me swinging my sword, watching the bullets bounce off the blade and ricocheting into the early morning light.

"Time to stop messing around."

I angle the blade funny, the bullet bounces off and flies right back at the helicopter, hitting the rotor blade and spinning the chopper out of control. The helicopter slams hard on a nearby rooftop, nobody is seriously hurt, but they won't feel too good tomorrow.

Johnny finally steps out of the shadows. A look of surprise on his face as I put the blade back in the holster.

"Holy hectic heli takedowns, Batman!"

"......Would you stop that?"

 

[Batman]

Batman and Robin are cut off by the distant noise of police cruisers and sirens, coming from the main streets. While Batman sneers, in anger, Robin seems to notice something else.

"Uh... Those really don't sound like Gotham PD."

Batman turns, curiously, before listening to the screech of the tires and the sirens themselves. And quickly, The Dark Knight realises that his young protege is right, startlingly enough.

"Good ears. But that isn't nessacarily a good sign,", Batman answers, before outstretching his arm from his cloak, and pressing a button on his gauntlet. "Reddy. Have the Clocktower's west entrance on the ready. We'll be arriving shortly enough."

"It is done, Master Gordon.", The android replies, over a radio link within John's cowl.

Shutting it off, Batman reclused into the darkness, pulling Robin in with him as they both crouched, allowing John to speak as silent as possible.

"Jason, be ready. We're going to be making quite an elaborate exit. Here's what I have in mind..."

Moments later, within the confines of the abandoned apartment building, another chopper arrived, scoping out the place through night vision technology, so as to not attract the attention of the masked vigilantes within.

"See anything?", One of President Lex Luthor's Black-Ops agents asks the other, within the technological hub.

"Alotta static and grime, Lieutenant. Nothing worth this kinda-"

Suddenly, a set of sounds errupt from the building, blocking the sound scope on the chopper. The Black-Ops agents shield their ears in agony, as all of the windows on the building simuntaneously shatter. Seconds of tense, painfully loud noise pass, before both Batman and Robin leap out of opposite sides of the building, The Dark Knight taking to one set of rooftops, and The Boy Wonder on his way through the shadows of an alley.

I told Jason that it was better if we split up, and remained apart until it was safe, so as to detract their forces and minimalise the chances of their strengths. I told him if he needed help, to call Reddy for backup. I told him all of that, without telling him what the risks were if I happened to be wrong.

Because truthfully, I'm beginning to get more scared out of my mind than I've ever been.

 

[Catman_prb]

"Come on then..." he muttered lowering the gun and smiling. This was more like it.

Tim reeled back as the Man-Bat, or Woman-Bat Tim supposed, leaped at his front. The claws dug into is shoulders, drawing blood. Tim brought the butt of his gun into the back of her head causinng her to screech loudly. Tim brought his knees up and pushed Beatrice off him. She stood up and backed away from him. Blood seeped slowly into Tims jacket.
Right, lets think weaknesses. She's in an enclosed space, and probably doesnt know her own strengths. We don't know how long this transformation would last. She has all the characteristics of a bat. Bats...they have poor optical vision, which they make up for with a sonar like hearing, which is incredibly sensetive...sensetive hearing. i've got to make as much noise as possible.
Tim looked up at the approaching creature and raised his gun in the air. He fired three shots in quick succession and Beatrice brought her clawed hands to her long ears. That should give him some time. Tim rushed over to the battered CD player in the corner of the room. He switched it up to full volume and turned a CD on. Guns and Roses. Excellant. Langstom screeched as Tim dove across the ripped sofa to the TV set, which he flicked on, and grabbing the remote, turned to full volume. He pulled his police-issue radio out of his pocket, and twisted a knob, turning it too full volume.
"Batman and Robin sighted in East Gotham. All units intercede! The following is in accordance with the Vigilantism Act passed by President Luthor in..." The radio called before trailing off into static. Tim didn't know who Batman and Robin were just yet, but he had a good idea. And if he was right he knew where they'd be hiding.
Tim looked at the writhing form of Beatrice Langstrom on the floor, now completley reverted to human form. He grabbed a towel from the washing pile and put it around her naked form.
"This isn't a safe place for you. Nowhere is safe for you anymore. I've got a contact who can help you," Tim said taking a slip of paper from the inner pocket of his jacket. "You can never be accepted now, never stop running. If you are arrested now, you will be experimented on and tortured, or just plain killed," Tim said looking at her eyes. She whimpered.
"Why are you helping me? Im a criminal," she whispered. Tim smiled.
"You're unfortunate. We can't always choose what happens to us, but we can make the most of it. You have a curse, or a gift in disguise. Use it to help people. Control it, and you are a true master," Tim said standing up and walking to the door. "Now if you don't mind I have somewhere to be,"
"Wait! Why are you helping me?" she asked, "Im a meta-human. You're meant to stop me!"
"Times change," he muttered walking out and down the stairs, past a shocked Fran and into his car. He needed time to think.

********​

Tim pulled up outside an abandoned apartment block, just in time to see a black swathed figure bursting from one of the windows. The black ops fools try and follow it with their infa-red. Bruce's suit was always heat-containing. He hoped this new guy had had that insight. Tims trained eye saw another figure retreat into the alley-way. Tim had a sudden flash of inspiration. He drove past the swarom of special forces, and swerved his car so it was blocking the entrance to the alley. It shouldn’t hold them for long, but it was worth a shot. TIm climbed out of the passenger seat and into the alley.
He pulled a small torch out of his bloody jacket. He flicked it on. Backed up against the wall of the alley was Robin. Tim recognised the figure in the suit.
"Jason..." he whispered. He looked as ready to fight as any Robin before him. Tim wasn't sure he approved of the sword though.

 

[Byrd Man]

Tim pulled up outside an abandoned apartment block, just in time to see a black swathed figure bursting from one of the windows. The black ops fools try and follow it with their infa-red. Bruce's suit was always heat-containing. He hoped this new guy had had that insight. Tims trained eye saw another figure retreat into the alley-way. Tim had a sudden flash of inspiration. He drove past the swarom of special forces, and swerved his car so it was blocking the entrance to the alley. It shouldn’t hold them for long, but it was worth a shot. TIm climbed out of the passenger seat and into the alley.
He pulled a small torch out of his bloody jacket. He flicked it on. Backed up against the wall of the alley was Robin. Tim recognised the figure in the suit.
"Jason..." he whispered. He looked as ready to fight as any Robin before him. Tim wasn't sure he approved of the sword though.

The majority of the black ops guys follow John, a few chase after me as I duck and hide in the shadows. While I'm waiting there, I hear someone walking up. I reach for my sword as a light shines on me.

"Jason..."

I stop reaching for my sword, it feels like my stomach just dropped out and ice is running through my veins.

"D-...Dad? I don't have time to explain now. I got to go. Please don't be mad."

Using some of those acrobatics he trained me in, I leap over my father and his squad car.

"I'll be home as soon as possible, I love you, dad."

Just like that, I dissapear into the shadows. Leaving my father alone to cope with the fact that his only biological son has taken up a job that is not only dangerous, but now, illegal.

 

[Catman_prb]

Just like that, I dissapear into the shadows. Leaving my father alone to cope with the fact that his only biological son has taken up a job that is not only dangerous, but now, illegal.

Tim needed to take this in, but now was not the time. The black ops that chased after Jason noticed his torch light and came racing over guns raised. Tim turned.

"Don't move, your under arrest in accordance to the Vigilantism Act!" the squad leader shouted.

"I'm Detective Tim Drake, GCPD. On what grounds are you arresting me? Do i look like i'm wearing a mask to you?" Tim shouted, hands in the air. The guns around him lowered.

"The boy calling himself Robin came this way," the squad leader said again.

"Oh really? Do i look like im wearing a leotard to you?" Tim said mockingly.

"Apologies Detective," the squad leader said. Tim nodded towards him and walked to the car.

***

Tim pulled up at Gotham Cemetry in the early hours of the morning. He stepped out, a bundle of red roses in his hands. He walked as if he knew where he was going, even though he'd only been here four times. Once for his father, once for his mother, once for Dick Grayson and the last time for his surrogate father Bruce Wayne.​

He walked straight past the graves of his biological parents, and straight on to those of his real family. He knelt by Bruce's grave and lay down a bunch of roses.​

"I dont come here nearly enough. I dont come here at all. I know your dead and buried, but i thought you may want to know whats happened since you died. John's become the new Batman...i havnt seen him in the suit yet, but if Jasons Robin, John's the best bet. Rose has run off to find Slade...you always said she would. Bruce...after you died i gave up. There was no good left in the world. The worlds become a different place. Cassie tried to make me help her. I turned away. There were no good men left to fight the good fight. But now...times have changed. Theres still evil in the world...Luthors president again. There are new heroes, some better than those before them. They need a teacher. Someone to show them the way. Someone to stop them from going too far. I can see it happening. Jasons got a sword already for Christs sake. I have to go now. But i made a promise to you years ago, that i would keep my boys safe. Any way i had too. I intend to keep that promise." ​

Tim stood up, walked out of the cemetry and drove home.​